#taeyong x reader fanfiction

[keehomania]

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

[cbeargyu]

what you want

summary: you and taeyong have been best friends since college, sharing your adult lives side by side—your flower shop, his branding firm, countless shared memories. but as you near your 30s, the yearning to become a mother grows unbearable. during a reunion trip to jeju island, a tipsy conversation turns into something tender, raw, and irreversible. what begins as comfort and shared vulnerability becomes something deeper—intimate confessions, unspoken love, and the beginning of a quiet forever.

pairing: bestfriend taeyong x fem!reader

genre: slow-burn, friends to lovers, emotional smut, soft romance, hurt/comfort, domestic fluff, eventual pregnancy.

warnings: breeding kink, unprotected sex (consensual, emotional context), impregnatio, pregnancy mention, emotional vulnerability, suggestive adult themes (18+), heavy romantic tension with soft resolution.

wc: 4,5K

notes: hi hiiii, okay so i've been dying to read smutty taeyong fics lately and it's been ALMOST impossible to find 😭 like 90% are mxm and there's barely any tae x reader content out there... if anyone has recs pls drop them in the comments ily. alsooo it's probably painfully obvious by now that i'm obsessed with the whole breeding kink + domestic fluff combo BYE that's literally my favorite thing ever 😩🫠💗

you’ve always been close to taeyong.

since college, really—when you met in that ridiculously stuffy marketing class during your second year. he was late that day, hair still damp from a rushed shower, a printed branding portfolio tucked under one arm, and somehow, he still managed to slide into the seat beside you with an easy smile and that soft voice.

you became inseparable after that. group projects, late-night convenience store runs, silent study sessions that turned into hours of talking about everything and nothing. you built a quiet rhythm with him, one that never required a label or explanation.

you opened your flower shop right after graduation. taeyong built his own creative agency, specializing in branding and design—sleek, intentional, always poetic in its aesthetic. you sent him flowers for his launch day; he designed the logo for your storefront for free. "it’s a gift," he said when you tried to pay him, his voice warm over the phone. "besides, i owe you for all the coffee you bought me during thesis week."

now in your late twenties, things feel stable. solid. your dreams are real. you run a blooming business. taeyong’s agency is doing well. life, on the surface, is soft and good. but there’s one thing that sits heavily in your chest.

you want a baby.

you’ve wanted one for years. even when you were young, you imagined yourself as a mother before anything else—before being a florist, a business owner, a woman navigating city streets with earbuds in and a tote bag full of errands. you crave that connection, the physicality of pregnancy, the quiet intimacy of raising someone who came from you.

but dating? nonexistent. your schedule is tight, your circle small, and the men you do meet are more interested in weekend flings than parenting plans. you’ve been obsessively reading about IVF, sperm donors, even traditional remedies your grandmother used to whisper about. you bring it up to taeyong one night, half-laughing as you scroll through forums.

“i don’t know what to do,” you admit, looking over the rim of your mug at him. “i’m not seeing anyone. i don’t want to wait until i’m forty. and i want to carry them. i want to feel them growing inside me.”

taeyong goes quiet.

he doesn’t have the answers, but he listens. tells you that you’d make an amazing mother. suggests maybe you could consider adoption, but you shake your head gently.

“i want to be pregnant,” you whisper. “i want them to be mine from the start.”

he nods.

he doesn’t push.

a few days later, he messages you.

taeyonggie👺 [11:13am]: remember our old classmates? they’re planning a reunion trip to jeju. want to go? they said you’re welcome too.

you hesitate, then say yes. maybe a change of scenery is what you need. something about the sea and the quiet and the way jeju always smells like citrus and wind.

you don’t expect to feel so at ease.

you arrive together, him beside you on the plane, headphones shared between you as you both doze off mid-flight. you’re staying at a cozy hotel not far from the beach—modern but warm, all wood accents and soft lighting.

there’s a mix-up at check-in.

“two rooms for y/n and taeyong?” the clerk asks.

“no, just one,” taeyong corrects, glancing at you. “two beds, please.”

you nod. it’s nothing new. you’ve stayed over at each other’s apartments before. this is the same. right?

your room has two full-size beds, a window view of the ocean, and barely enough space for both your suitcases. you joke about how you’ll end up tripping over each other, and taeyong just grins, tossing his duffel onto the bed by the wall.

the first two days are calm.

nakamoto yuta—now a travel content creator, all sun-kissed skin and open laughter—is the life of the group. seulgi, working as a creative director for a fashion label, is effortlessly elegant, always with a camera around her neck. also in the group: kwon eunbi, a vocal coach; hwang minhyun, managing a production company; kim seolhyun, running a podcast on pop culture; and kim hanbin, now a choreographer.

you spend your days exploring the island.

taeyong helps you pick tangerines from the orchard. you braid small wildflowers into your hair, and he snaps a photo when you’re not looking. he buys you honey ice cream and insists on carrying your bag when your shoulder starts to ache.

it feels like nothing’s changed.

but there’s a moment.

you’re inside the hotel lounge, grabbing drinks. yuta and taeyong sit near the back, shoulders low, conversation soft between them.

“you still in love with her?” yuta asks, voice easy but not teasing.

taeyong chokes on his drink. coughs. blushes.

“no,” he says, eyes flickering. “i mean, not anymore. that was...college. i’m over it.”

yuta raises a brow. “you sure?”

taeyong doesn’t answer right away. his fingers tap against the glass, slow. thoughtful.

“she wants a baby,” he says eventually. “that’s all she talks about now.”

“so give her one,” yuta shrugs.

taeyong laughs quietly. like it’s ridiculous. like it’s tempting.

he doesn’t bring it up again.

but something shifts.

you notice him watching you a little longer than usual when you laugh. his gaze lingers on the curve of your jaw, the line of your collarbone, the way you absentmindedly rest a hand over your stomach when you’re lost in thought.

you don’t say anything either.

you’re still just friends.

sharing a room.

sharing a life.

almost.

dinner that night is golden.

the kind that stretches out with laughter, grilled seafood, tangerine wine, and flickering lanterns strung up between pine trees. the restaurant is open-air, tucked near the cliffside with a view of the ocean glowing beneath the full moon.

everyone's a little tipsy by the time dessert comes around. yuta’s telling stories about backpacking in morocco and the time he accidentally ended up at a wedding. seulgi keeps taking pictures of everyone's reactions, cheeks flushed from wine. hanbin and seolhyun are arguing about the best era of k-pop choreography. eunbi sings a soft verse of something nostalgic, and minhyun smiles so softly you wonder if he's thinking of someone he left behind.

taeyong is beside you. always beside you. refilling your glass with something citrusy. resting his arm along the back of your chair. letting his knee bump into yours and not pulling away. the heat from him is steady. familiar. almost too much.

later, the drinks keep flowing back at the hotel. minhyun brings out a bottle of plum soju he brought from seoul, and that’s when it really starts. shots. dares. flushed cheeks and slurred memories.

you’re warm. glowing. a little too honest.

“i mean it,” you say, your voice low, shoulders loose as you sit with taeyong on the floor by the balcony door, away from the noise. “i think about it every night. sometimes i dream about it.”

he looks at you, gentle. “dream about what?”

you lean your head against the windowpane, watching the wind rustle the curtain.

“having a baby,” you murmur. “being pregnant. the little kicks. the soft cries. the weight of them on my chest. it’s so clear in my mind. like… i can almost feel it already.”

taeyong swallows.

you’re drunk. not sloppy, just vulnerable in a way you rarely let yourself be.

“i’ve tried not to obsess over it,” you continue, voice quieter now. “but it’s hard. i want it so much. and i know it’s selfish to want the whole experience—the belly, the pain, the birth. i just… i don’t want to feel like i missed it, like i missed the chance to be the kind of mother i’ve always seen myself becoming.”

taeyong doesn’t know what to say. you can feel it in the silence. his fingers curl slightly, brushing the edge of your sweater.

“you’d be such a good dad, you know,” you say suddenly, eyes half-lidded, smiling gently now as the alcohol softens your words. “like… annoyingly good.”

taeyong blinks.

“you’d be the kind that warms up the milk just right. that kisses tiny foreheads. that always carries extra snacks. that reads the bedtime story even when he’s tired. you'd probably cry when they take their first step.”

he laughs under his breath, a little shaky. your words are melting something in him.

“and your baby would have your eyes,” you add, like it’s nothing. “those pretty lashes. and maybe your laugh. and you’d panic the first time they got sick. and hold them all night until they stopped crying.”

he’s staring at you now. full-on. wide-eyed, a little undone.

“you’d be so gentle,” you whisper. “you already are.”

taeyong shifts. swallows again. his voice is rough when he finally speaks. “don’t say that.”

you tilt your head, confused. “why not? it’s true.”

“because,” he breathes, gaze flicking down to your lips for half a second before pulling back to the ceiling. “you’re drunk. and i’m trying really hard not to do something i’ll regret.”

you blink slowly, the alcohol making everything feel suspended.

you’re suddenly aware of how close you are. how intimate this has always been. not the words. not the night. just you and him.

taeyong stands. runs a hand through his hair, frustrated.

“i’m gonna get some water,” he mumbles, stepping away from the room.

you stay behind, heartbeat thudding, his warmth still lingering beside you.

you meant every word.

but you don’t know if he’ll ever believe that.

taeyong returns to the table with your glass of water clutched between his fingers like it’s something to hold himself together. his pulse is still uneven, the weight of your words clinging to him like sea salt in the air—soft but undeniable.

you’re laughing at something when he returns. yuta’s grinning, telling a story about a disastrous photoshoot in cambodia that involved a monkey, a drone, and his own foolish confidence. your cheeks are still flushed, but your expression dims a little when your eyes catch his, like you can feel the shift. like you remember what you said.

taeyong sets the glass in front of you gently, and you whisper a quiet “thanks” without looking up.

he doesn’t sit down again. instead, he hovers, letting the chatter of the group wash over him, standing on the edge of it all. seulgi pulls hanbin into a debate about concept staging in idol tours, seolhyun’s already half-asleep on the couch, and minhyun is texting someone with a small smile. the night has thinned out. the fire outside has died, leaving only the dim golden lights strung overhead and the soft hum of a playlist playing someone’s nostalgic mix of late 2010s ballads.

by the time the clock hits nearly two in the morning, someone mumbles about calling it a night.

you blink blearily, your words slurring just a bit now, your weight leaning more and more toward the backrest of the couch. taeyong’s already there before anyone else moves, slipping a hand beneath your elbow and helping you to your feet like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“come on,” he says quietly, warm breath by your temple. “let’s get you to bed.”

you nod sleepily, your body soft, trusting. your fingers find the edge of his jacket sleeve as he steadies you, and he doesn’t pull away. the walk to the room is silent, the hallways dim and muffled. your steps are clumsy, and he catches you more than once, his hand curling around your waist like second nature.

inside the room, it’s dim and warm. the faint scent of saltwater and clean cotton lingers in the air from earlier. you collapse on the edge of the bed you claimed the night before, one of two queen mattresses sitting side by side with a single nightstand in between. the tension returns with the silence, thick and cloying. he walks to the dresser and grabs a bottle of water, offering it to you.

you drink half of it. then sit there. watching him.

he avoids your gaze at first. fiddles with the hem of his shirt. looks out the window like he might say something—then stops himself.

but you’re still drunk. and honest. and maybe a little bold in the way you never let yourself be.

“you know,” you start, voice quiet, “i wasn’t drunk when i said you’d make a good dad.”

taeyong turns slowly. you meet his eyes.

you swallow thickly, fingers wringing the edge of your pajama top. “i’ve thought about it before.”

he blinks, lips parting like he wants to ask but isn’t sure if he should.

you continue.

"not just in the abstract. not just... you as someone’s dad. but you as my—" you stop, heat blooming up your neck. you exhale. “sometimes, i think about what it’d be like if you were the one.”

he says nothing, but his expression crumbles—something tender and wounded flickering behind his eyes.

“i mean, we’ve been in each other’s lives forever,” you say, softer now. “we grew up together in every way that matters. you’ve seen me fail and get back up and fall apart again. you’ve never walked away. not once. not even when i was unbearable. i trust you with everything. i always have.”

taeyong doesn’t breathe.

you keep going.

“so yeah. i think about it sometimes. about what it’d be like to have your kid. to raise them with you. to wake up to you and a messy little human with sleepy eyes and your stupid laugh. and maybe i’m insane, maybe it’s just my hormones or my loneliness or whatever—but the thought doesn’t scare me. it grounds me.”

you laugh, a little bitterly, wiping at the corner of your eye. “and that’s the worst part. because i know you don’t see me that way. or if you did once, it’s long gone. and i shouldn’t be saying this—i know that. but there’s something about tonight that makes me feel like i’ll burst if i don’t.”

taeyong moves before you can finish.

quiet. careful.

he kneels in front of you. not touching you. not yet. just there, looking up at you like he’s memorizing every curve of your face.

his voice is raw.

“don’t say i don’t see you.”

you meet his eyes.

“i’ve always seen you.”

your breath hitches.

taeyong lets out a quiet, shaky laugh. “you talk about me being a dad like i wouldn’t spend every second wondering how the hell i got so lucky to build a life with you. like i haven’t already imagined it too. maybe not with words. maybe not out loud. but… i have.”

you whisper, “you have?”

he nods.

“every time you smile like that. every time you bring me coffee with your name scribbled next to mine. every time you hug me like home. yes. i have.”

you don’t move.

he reaches for your hand—slow, reverent, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

“but i never let myself say it,” he murmurs. “because i didn’t want to mess this up. not with us. not with you. and definitely not like this. but if i’m being honest… the thought of you carrying my child?” he swallows. “that doesn’t scare me either.”

the room is silent.

you stare at him, your fingers trembling in his grip.

you whisper, “then kiss me.”

he does.

not rushed. not heated.

just true.

the kind of kiss that feels like coming home after years of wandering.

like maybe—just maybe—you weren’t crazy after all.

the kiss deepens slowly.

taeyong’s hands are warm on your cheeks, cradling you like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever held. you melt under his touch, your fingers sliding up his neck, into his hair, pulling him closer, closer still—like you’re afraid he’ll vanish if you let go.

he’s the one who gasps first when your lips part just enough to whisper his name. it falls from your mouth like a secret you’ve kept buried for too long, and he swallows it whole.

he pulls back slightly, forehead resting against yours, his thumbs brushing over your flushed skin. you can feel his heart racing beneath his shirt.

“y/n…” his voice is hoarse. “are you sure?”

you nod, soft and breathless. “i’ve never been more sure.”

and there’s something in your voice—something so certain, so full of quiet longing—that makes taeyong inhale like he’s taking you in for the first time.

his lips find yours again, slower now, more deliberate. his touch trails from your face to your waist, pulling you gently into his lap, like he needs you close enough to feel everything—the way your body trembles against his, the way your thighs tighten around his hips, the way your breath stutters when his mouth moves down your neck.

he tastes your skin like a prayer, like something he’s dreamt about in the quiet hours of the night when your voice was the only thing that could calm him down.

you whisper into the space between kisses, into the curve of his jaw, “i want it to be you.”

his breath hitches.

“i want your baby,” you murmur, your hand pressing over his chest, right where his heart is pounding. “i want to carry your child. someone small and perfect and warm, someone who has your eyes… your smile.”

taeyong lets out the softest sound, almost like a whimper, and you feel his fingers tighten on your hips, his body tensing like he’s trying to hold himself back.

you lean into his ear and say it again—this time slower, your voice shaking. “i want your baby inside me, tae.”

his hands slide up your sides, under your shirt, reverent and gentle. “god,” he breathes. “you have no idea what that does to me.”

“tell me.”

he leans back just enough to look at you—really look at you. his pupils are blown wide, his cheeks flushed, lips swollen and parted.

“i think about it all the time,” he says, barely more than a whisper. “what you’d look like with my baby growing inside you. your belly round and soft, your body glowing. coming home to you with your shirt stretched over the bump, your hands cradling it like it’s the most natural thing in the world.”

he presses a kiss to your collarbone, then another, lower. “i want to see you like that. i want to wake up and run my hands over your belly, feel it kick. talk to it. kiss it.”

you whimper, your fingers knotting in his hair. “tae…”

his hands slip beneath the waistband of your shorts, thumbs brushing over your hipbones like they belong there. “i want to fill you up,” he murmurs, voice thick and trembling. “not just for tonight. not just for the fantasy. i want this to meansomething. it does mean something.”

you nod, cupping his face. “i know. it does to me too.”

he kisses you again, deeper now, one hand at the small of your back, guiding you down onto the mattress. the room is quiet, lit only by the moonlight spilling through the window, and everything feels soft. intimate. warm.

he undresses you slowly, carefully, as if every piece of clothing he removes reveals another piece of your heart. your legs wrap around his waist instinctively, pulling him closer until there’s no space between you, nothing but breath and bare skin and whispered names.

when he enters you, it’s slow and deep, like he’s savoring every inch, like he’s trying to memorize the way you feel wrapped around him. your back arches, and he moans into your neck, your name a broken sound on his lips.

you’re both trembling—emotion thick in your chests, tears brimming at the corners of your eyes. because it’s not just sex. not just lust. it’s home. it’s years of friendship and quiet yearning finally coming undone in the safest way possible.

taeyong presses a kiss to your temple and whispers, “you’re perfect. you’re mine.”

you cradle his face in your hands, smiling through the tears. “give me everything, tae. i want to feel you. all of you. i want to feel you stay.”

his rhythm falters, just for a second, overcome by the weight of it all. “i’ll give you everything. i’ll give you a family.”

you tighten around him at the words, gasping.

“i want to make you a mom,” he whispers. “tonight.”

you nod frantically, lips parting, “do it. please. i want to feel it—i want to feel you—when you fill me.”

taeyong groans, hips stuttering, burying his face in your neck. “fuck. y/n…”

you whisper, “put a baby in me, tae.”

he thrusts deeper, harder now, the restraint beginning to crumble. your bodies are slick with sweat, moving together with a kind of desperation that feels like both a beginning and a promise.

when he finishes—inside, just like you wanted—it’s with a gasp, his arms locked around you tight, like he’s scared to let go. and for a long moment, neither of you move.

“i want you full of me,” he says against your mouth, already hardening again. “i want to make sure.”

you nod, dazed. open. warm.

“don’t stop,” you whisper. “please don’t stop.”

and he doesn’t.

he makes love to you over and over again, slow and focused, like each time is another chance to seal your wish into reality. sometimes he holds your hips, watching your face as you fall apart for him. other times he lays you on your side, kissing your shoulder while whispering how beautiful you are, how perfect you’d be with his child inside you.

when dawn breaks, you’re tangled together in silence. your body aches, sweet and sated. your thighs sticky, your heart full. his hand rests on your stomach again, like he’s already waiting.

he is groaning your name, whispering over and over, “mine. you’re mine. our baby. our future.”

you’re crying. he is too.

and when the trembling stops and the world is still again, he kisses your lips, then your cheeks, then your stomach.

“i can’t wait to see you grow,” he whispers, resting his head just below your ribs.

you run your fingers through his hair, heart pounding.

you whisper back, “i hope it has your eyes.”

the sunlight pours through the thin curtains like a slow, golden confession. the air smells like salt and lemon shampoo. taeyong wakes up first this time, his arm heavy over your waist, your back pressed flush against his chest. sunlight filters through the cream-colored curtains, warming the bare skin of your shoulder.

it kisses your bare shoulder first, then the soft curve of your waist, then the scattered marks taeyong left across your chest like constellations only he could read.

you’re the first to stir, eyelids fluttering open to the unfamiliar ceiling of the hotel room. for a second, you forget where you are. but then you shift slightly and feel the weight of an arm draped across your stomach, the steady rise and fall of a chest pressed into your back, and the unmistakable warmth of taeyong’s body, still wrapped around you like a second skin.

his breath ghosts against your nape, slow and deep, and you realize he hasn’t let go of you all night. not once.

you smile.

when you turn your head just enough to see his face, it nearly knocks the air out of your lungs. he’s peaceful like this—softer, younger somehow. his lashes rest against his cheeks, and his mouth is parted slightly, lips still swollen from all the kisses you gave him. his hand, large and warm, is splayed gently across your lower belly, protective and possessive in the same breath.

you reach down and lace your fingers with his.

as if he feels it, he stirs, humming sleepily against your skin. his nose nuzzles into your shoulder. “mmm… morning,” he mumbles, voice thick and low, still soaked in sleep.

you twist around slowly in his hold so you’re facing him. he blinks a few times, eyes still heavy, but when they focus on you, they soften in that way they always have—like you’re the center of his world and he’s been waiting all night just to see you again.

“you stayed,” you whisper, thumb brushing his cheekbone.

he smiles lazily, eyes fluttering shut again. “of course i did. where else would i go?”

you tuck yourself into his chest, your nose against his collarbone. “you feel so warm…”

his arms tighten around you instantly, drawing you closer until there’s no space between you. “you kept me warm first,” he murmurs, and you can hear the smile in his voice. “i didn’t want to let go.”

you stay like that for a while. breathing together. existing.

and then you feel him shift, one hand still resting over your belly, thumb drawing lazy, absent-minded circles over the skin there. he hums, low in his throat. “do you think… do you think it worked?”

your breath catches.

you look up at him, searching his face. he’s watching you carefully now, no longer groggy, eyes wide open and impossibly tender.

“i don’t know,” you whisper. “maybe.”

he leans in, kisses your forehead. then your temple. then the spot just below your eye. “i kind of hope it did.”

you feel your throat tighten with emotion.

“you do?”

“mmhm,” he nods, nudging his nose against yours. “i kept thinking about it last night… the way you’d look months from now. the way i’d get to take care of you. rub your back. cook for you. kiss your belly every morning.”

you let out a small laugh, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand.

“i’d be so annoying,” you murmur. “always crying. craving weird stuff. complaining about everything.”

he smiles, brushing your hair behind your ear. “you’d be perfect. i’d love you more every day. and our baby… our baby would be lucky.”

you bury your face in his chest, overwhelmed by the sweetness of it. the certainty.

he strokes your back gently. “and if it didn’t happen this time… we try again,” he says softly. “no rush. no pressure. just us. just love.”

you pull back, tearful and smiling all at once. “you want to try again already?”

he grins, lips brushing your cheek. “i want to make love to you every morning for the rest of my life. but yes… also for the baby.”

you laugh, breathless, and he kisses the sound right out of you.

his hands start to wander again—slow, exploring, remembering. he murmurs against your lips, “can i stay inside you today too? just like this… all day?”

you nod, whispering, “don’t leave me empty.”

and he doesn’t.

he makes love to you again—this time slow and languid, under the weight of sunlight and morning warmth. he kisses your face like you’re already glowing. like you’re already carrying a part of him.

when he comes again, deep inside you, he doesn’t look away. he holds you through it. kisses your tears. whispers your name like a promise.

afterward, he pulls the blanket over your bodies, still tangled. still joined. he keeps his hand on your belly, and you both stay quiet, smiling softly.

as if the future is already there.

[blondechariot]

NCT127 reaction to you telling them you’re a virgin

Pairing: NCT127 x reader

Warnings: light smut, make out, some fluff

Taeyong

It’s a boring Sunday afternoon, and for once, Taeyong has the day off. You two decided you would only leave the bed for food and bathroom breaks. It had been his idea, and you immediately agreed since you both hadn’t been able to spend much time together lately. You and Taeyong haven’t been together for long — just a month, to be exact. That made it even more special for you to have him all to yourself for an entire day and hide away at home.

So it happens that at 4 PM, you’re still lying in bed. His head rests in your lap as he scrolls through his phone while you absentmindedly run your fingers through his hair. Eventually, he closes his eyes and sighs,

“This is nice. Maybe you should apply to work at SM as staff so I can take you on tour with me,” he suggests with a smile.

You giggle. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

He absentmindedly nods. “I’d love it. I’d have you around every day,” he murmurs, wiggling his eyebrows.

“And at night, when everyone’s asleep, I’ll sneak into your room.”

You smile briefly but then grow thoughtful.

“And what would we do in my room?” you ask.

He opens one eye and tilts his head slightly.

“Well, this. You’d run your fingers through my hair.”

“Oh, so that’s why you want me to come along? To be your personal masseur?” you laugh mockingly, making him grin widely.

“I’d make sure to return the favor,” he promises, reaching for your hand and kissing your knuckles.

You tilt your head slightly, watching him as he intertwines his fingers with yours and squeezes them gently. Your relationship was amazing in every way — except for one thing. Taeyong had never mentioned it, but you were aware of the way he looked at you when you changed after a shower or lay by the pool in a bikini. You noticed his glances but always pretended not to. He never brought it up or tried to go further than kissing or making out on the couch. You were grateful for that, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that a conversation about it was coming soon.

It’s not that you didn’t want to — Taeyong looked incredible, and there were moments you could barely hold yourself back from jumping him. It was more the fact that you had no experience at all that made you hesitant.

“A penny for your thoughts,” Taeyong says, pulling you out of your daze, wiggling his eyebrows at you. You chuckle softly and run your fingers through your hair.

“What’s wrong?” he asks curiously, turning his head toward you.

You chew on your lower lip, searching for the right words.

“I-I know it might seem like I’m making you wait on purpose, but I’m not,” you suddenly say, making him frown slightly

“What do you mean?”

“Tae… I don’t want you to think I don’t trust you or anything… that’s not why we haven’t gone further yet,” you explain.

He sits up, looking at you confused.

“What is this? Are you trying to justify yourself?” he asks with a small smile.

“It’s more like… I just want to explain so you don’t think badly of me,” you confess, feeling guilty.

He laughs and kisses you gently.

“You don’t have to explain anything to me,” he assures you.

“But—”

“Listen, you’re the hottest woman in the entire world to me, but that’s not why I’m with you. I don’t care when we take the next step — I just don’t want you to feel pressured into anything,” he says, placing his hand on your cheek.

You chew on your lip again and clear your throat before looking into his eyes.

“I, um… I’m still a virgin,” you say quietly.

He looks at you for a moment and then chuckles.

“So what?”

“That means I really have zero experience… What if I’m terrible?” you ask, insecure.

He sighs briefly and kisses you again.

“I doubt that. You drive me crazy just by tossing your hair back. I’m more worried about being terrible myself,” he laughs.

You roll your eyes and playfully nudge him.

“Idiot.”

“The fact that you’re a virgin doesn’t change anything for me — if anything, honestly, it’s kinda sexy,” he admits, grinning.

You laugh and kiss him tenderly.

“We’ll figure it out — but only when you’re really ready, okay?” he asks seriously, pressing his forehead against yours.

“Okay,” you confirm with a big smile.

Doyoung

It’s your fourth date. The first three were spent at the movies, going for a walk, and visiting a museum followed by coffee. At the end of your second date, you had gathered your courage and kissed him for the first time. Since then, not a minute had gone by without the two of you texting, calling, or sending each other funny videos and pictures.

Tonight, however, he had invited you over to his place — the first time you’d ever been to his apartment. He cooked for you and had clearly put in a lot of effort. You hadn’t missed how his hand trembled slightly when he poured you some more wine or helped you take off your coat. By now, though, he had relaxed, and the two of you had been laughing, chatting about everything and nothing, and joking around.

It was getting late as you both started clearing the table and loading the dishwasher.

“You have surprisingly few plates,” you remarked as you peeked into one of his cabinets.

“I know. A lot of them didn’t survive,” he snorted in mock frustration while rinsing the frying pan.

You closed the cabinet door and watched him for a moment. He was standing with his back to you at the sink, and you observed the way his shoulders moved. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and his muscles flexed now and then as he handled the heavy pan. He looked incredibly good, and you felt a sudden urge to touch him.

You walked over to him and pressed a kiss to his cheek. He looked at you surprised, then smiled broadly.

“What was that for?”

“As a thank you—for the meal,” you replied with a smile of your own.

He set the pan down and dried his hands with a towel before turning to face you.

“Then I guess I should cook more often,” he said and took your hand.

“I can bring a plate each time, so eventually you’ll have enough,” you suggested, making him roll his eyes with a grin.

“If that means you’ll come over more often, I’m all for it,” he said softly, raising one corner of his mouth before gently placing a finger under your chin so you’d look at him.

You smiled faintly and leaned up to press your lips against his. He leaned in, placing his hands on your hips while yours cupped his face. He tilted his head and deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding into your mouth, and you sighed quietly. One of his hands moved to the back of your neck while the other settled on your waist, pulling you closer.

You hesitantly pulled back and gave him a quick smile.

“M-Maybe we could sit on the couch? It’s more comfortable,” you suggested quietly.

He grinned and nodded before taking your hand and leading you to the couch. But you turned him around so you could sit down first, pulling him down with you. He looked at you intently before connecting your lips again and settling between your legs. You ran your fingers through his hair as he began kissing your neck, his hands exploring your body.

You closed your eyes, trying to relax, but when his hand moved between your legs and started sliding up your thigh, your body tensed up. You placed your hand over his.

“Everything okay?” he asked, lifting his head with concern.

You bit your lip and sighed.

“Sorry,” you murmured, frustrated by your own reaction.

“Did I do something wrong? Am I going too fast?”

“No, no, not at all,” you quickly said, brushing your hand along his cheek.

Still, he looked unsure, and you cleared your throat, straightening up a little so you could meet his gaze.

“I, um… I’ve just never done this before,” you admitted shyly.

“Sex?” he asked, surprised.

You nodded slowly, looking at him nervously.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, clearly surprised.

“It just never came up… is that bad?”

“Of course not,” he said quickly with a small smile, giving you a short kiss.

“But if I’d known, I don’t know… I probably would’ve approached things differently,” he admitted, a little awkward.

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong. I don’t even know why I just blurted it out,” you murmured quietly.

He gave you a soft smile and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I’m glad you told me,” he said warmly. “And I won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with, ever. Promise.”

You laughed quietly and nodded.

“I know,” you said, and kissed him.

You looked at each other for a moment before you cleared your throat.

“I should probably go now.”

“Or… you could stay,” he suggested. “We could watch a movie, talk, I’ve even got coffee.”

You smiled widely and nodded.

“That sounds perfect.”

Jaehyun

Well, so much for the picnic,”

Jaehyun sighed after closing the car door, while the rain pounded heavily against the outside. You had planned a beautiful picnic by the lake, everything was perfectly prepared — but the weather had other plans. It had started off nicely: you managed to lay out the blanket and sit down, but just as you began eating, the sky darkened and the first shower came down. You barely made it back to the car with your things.

Your hair and clothes were soaked, and the car seats immediately absorbed the rainwater.

“Damn it,” Jaehyun muttered under his breath, staring out the window.

You pushed your wet hair back and shrugged.

“Oh well,” you said, laughing, and reached for the basket of food.

“Guess it’s going to be a car picnic instead,” you suggested, handing him a sandwich.

He looked skeptically at your hand for a moment before laughing and shrugging as well.

“Fine by me,” he chuckled and took the sandwich from you.

A little while later, you had your legs draped across his lap, and you had already eaten most of the food. Absentmindedly, his hand started to trace lazy patterns along your legs. His gaze rested on you, and when you looked up, your eyes met his. He gave you a wide smile.

“Why are you looking at me like that? Do I have mayonnaise on my face?” you asked, starting to wipe your face frantically.

“Now that you mention it…” he said, pulling your legs further over his lap, bringing your upper body closer to him.

You startled a little but laughed as he looked at you proudly.

“What are you doing?”

“You really do have some mayonnaise,” he teased, leaning down to kiss the corner of your mouth.

He paused, studying you for a second, before saying, “Hmm, nope, there’s still something left,” and kissed you again — this time fully on the lips, gently stroking your cheek. You kissed him back but then pulled away.

“Don’t do that,” you whined playfully, giving him a little shove in the side.

He laughed and tilted his head.

“What’s wrong? Does it make you nervous?” he teased, wiggling his eyebrows.

“No, but it ruins the mood,” you said, laughing but trying to stay serious.

He gasped in mock offense and frowned.

“Wow, how am I ruining the mood?”

“We were having such a nice picnic in the car,” you grinned.

“Exactly. It’s raining outside, we’ve got food, and I’m stuck in a small space with a beautiful woman,” he said dramatically.

“All that’s missing is some music and candles to make it properly romantic,” you added sarcastically.

He sat up a little straighter.

“I don’t have candles, but I do have music,” he said proudly, pulling his phone out of his pocket and opening Spotify.

He played a chill playlist and set the phone down on the driver’s seat. Then he relaxed back so that your legs rested fully across his lap, making it easy for him to lean over you.

“Just so you know, I think this is very romantic,” he informed you, bumping his nose against yours.

You smiled softly and traced his lips with your fingertips before kissing him tenderly. His hand slid up your thigh and you took a deep breath, looking into his eyes nervously. He smiled warmly at you, and for a moment, your nervousness faded — until he leaned down to nibble gently at your earlobe and trailed kisses along your neck.

“Jaehyun,” you breathed, threading a hand into his hair.

“Mhm?” he hummed against your skin, continuing his kisses.

“I’m still a virgin,” you confessed, feeling him freeze mid-movement.

He lifted his head and looked at you, surprised.

“Really?”

You nodded quickly, feeling nervous under his gaze. His silence made your heart race.

“We don’t have to continue, you know? We can stop,” he offered gently, stroking your stomach.

“But you want to keep going,” you said skeptically.

He let out a small laugh.

“Of course I’d love to keep going, but I would never force you into anything you’re not ready for,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

You sat up and played with a strand of his hair.

“That’s not it. I do want to keep going… I just thought you should know,” you murmured shyly.

He looked at you in surprise.

“So you want to… you know.”

You giggled and nodded.

“Yes, Jaehyun. I want you to be my first.”

His cheeks flushed red, and he scratched the back of his neck.

“I, uh, feel honored.”

“Aww, am I making you nervous now?” you teased, quoting him from earlier and giving him a cheeky grin.

He rolled his eyes.

“I just want it to be special for you,” he pouted.

“I’m ready, okay? I trust you, and I’m 100% sure I want this,” you assured him, kissing his cheek.

“Are you really sure?” he asked one last time.

“Really sure,” you confirmed, smiling brightly.

He grinned widely and gently pushed you back down onto the seat, positioning himself over you.

Mark

You’re sitting next to each other on the couch. You’re watching a movie while Mark is on his phone. Over the course of a year, the two of you had become very close friends — you could talk about anything. Mark knew everything about your love life, and you knew everything about his.

He also knew that you had recently been dumped by your boyfriend and that he was the only guy you could currently stand to be around. It already helped just having him sitting next to you on the couch, even if he was just scrolling through his phone. You always enjoyed his presence, even during the quiet moments when you weren’t talking or goofing around.

You sat on your side of the couch, chewing on a pretzel stick, your eyes on the TV — though your mind kept wandering.

You hadn’t gotten very far physically with your ex; you never had sex, which would have been your first time. You had been excited because sex was something that sparked your curiosity, something you really wanted to experience. All the more angry you were when your ex ended up sleeping with a coworker.

Since then, a frustration had been building inside you, one you couldn’t even put into words.

You had reached a point where you just wanted to get it over with — for the experience. But not with just anyone. You wanted it to be someone you trusted, someone you liked, and who knew you well.

Your gaze stopped on your friend Mark, who was resting his head on one hand while scrolling through TikTok.

“Mark,” you said slowly, raising an eyebrow.

“Hm?” he replied, turning his head slightly but keeping his eyes on his screen.

“Would you sleep with me?” you asked boldly.

He glanced at you, let out a short laugh, and shook his head before turning back to his phone.

When you stayed silent and kept looking at him, he froze and furrowed his brow.

“Wait, what?” he asked, blinking in confusion.

“You think I’m attractive, right?” you pressed on.

“What are you talking about?”

“I saw you checking out my boobs when I bent over,” you said casually.

“Okay, hey, I — uh — what is happening right now?” he stammered, finally putting his phone aside.

You sighed and turned off the TV.

“You know I’m still a virgin… and honestly, I’m so over it. I want to finally have sex, but I don’t feel like starting a whole new relationship just for that.”

“Then download Tinder or something,” he muttered.

“I want to do it with someone I trust. Someone who knows me and actually likes me. I’ve had so many bad experiences with guys that I don’t want to leave my first time up to chance,” you explained.

Mark stared at you for a moment before pulling a skeptical face.

“This is a test, right?”

“Mark,” you said, rolling your eyes in frustration.

“Do I need to show you my boobs to prove I’m serious? Because I’ll do it,” you threatened, tugging at your T-shirt.

“No!” he yelped, quickly pushing your shirt back down.

“I-I’m just trying to wrap my head around this. You want to have your first time with me? But you have other guy friends too.”

“I don’t trust any of them like I trust you. Plus, you’re cute,” you teased with a grin.

He blushed slightly and cleared his throat awkwardly.

“So… what do you say?” you tried again, nudging him gently in the side.

He scratched the back of his head thoughtfully and took a deep breath, glancing around.

“So what then… here and now? Or how do you imagine this?” he asked.

“I don’t know. You’re the more experienced one,” you shrugged.

He chuckled at your honesty and smiled briefly. Then he stood up and reached for your hand.

“Just because I’m more experienced doesn’t mean I’m good at it. But maybe we should at least move to the bedroom,” he suggested.

You smiled too, but then he looked at you seriously.

“I just need to know this is really what you want,” he said, squeezing your hand firmly.

“I want this. I really do,” you confirmed, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

He looked surprised and froze for a second, then shook himself out of it and nodded.

“All right.”

Johnny

You barely made it into the hallway before Johnny slammed the door shut behind him and pressed you up against the wall. You kissed him feverishly, your hands running through his hair, while his clung tightly to your waist, tracing your skin and giving you playful squeezes.

You had met at Mark’s party, had a few too many drinks, and after an hour of intense conversation, decided to leave and get to know each other better.

“I have no idea where I’m going,” he mumbled against your lips with a grin, and you realized that you were at your place — he didn’t know the layout.

You giggled softly before grabbing his hand and pulling him along behind you.

In your bedroom, you started taking off your jacket, but he beat you to it, practically yanking it off.

You stumbled a little and laughed, but he quickly caught you, laughing along before taking off his blazer as well.

You let yourself fall backward onto the bed, and he followed without hesitation, pinning your hands above your head and pressing hot kisses against your neck.

You sighed and closed your eyes, trying to free your hands from his grip — but he was too strong.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he panted against your skin before kissing you deeply again.

You smiled briefly and arched your chest up so he could reach the zipper of your dress.

When he pulled the top half down, he sat back for a second, shaped his fingers like a camera, and said,

“Mental picture.”

“Shut up,” you laughed, pulling him back down toward you.

But he pulled away again, hurriedly unbuttoning his shirt. When you finally felt his skin against yours, heat flooded through your body, and you wrapped your legs around his waist.

He ground his hips against your pelvis, and you bit your lip to stifle a sound.

Satisfied, he grinned and let his hand rest against your neck, stroking your skin with his fingertips.

He kissed you once more and then looked at you, asking,

“Do you have condoms here?”

Your face fell at the question, and with growing horror, you realized you didn’t have any.

You were still a virgin and definitely hadn’t been prepared for tonight. You were on the pill, but you had only just started taking it about a week ago, and you weren’t even sure how reliable it was yet.

“Uh…” you began awkwardly, and he glanced down at himself.

“I’m clean, so if you’re on the pill—”

“I-I’ve only been on the pill for about a week,” you stammered, flustered.

He grew more alert, raising an eyebrow.

“But you’ve done this before, right?”

You searched for the right words, but your face already gave you away.

“Oh,” Johnny said, surprised, and moved away from you.

“So what? I’m still a virgin. Are you seriously going to tell me that’s a problem?” you snapped, frustrated by his reaction, feeling stupid.

Johnny knelt in front of you and ran his hand through his hair.

“I honestly can’t do this,” he admitted.

“Seriously? You do realize that it’s completely my choice when I want to lose my virginity, right? And it’s none of your business why I waited. But fine, if it makes you that uncomfortable or embarrassed that I’m still a virgin — whatever. Leave,” you said sharply, pulling your dress back up.

He sighed and tilted his head.

“It’s not embarrassing that you’re a virgin,” he explained calmly.

“But your first time shouldn’t be a one-night stand… and definitely not while drunk.”

“I’m not even drunk,” you protested, offended.

He gave you a gentle shove, and you wobbled slightly.

“Stop it,” you hissed at him but sank back into the pillows with a huff.

“Great,” you muttered under your breath, shaking your head in annoyance.

Johnny chuckled softly and leaned over you again to kiss you gently.

“I think it’s cool that you’re still a virgin. But I’m not the right guy for your first time — not under these circumstances,” he explained.

You tried to hide your disappointment and shrugged.

“Fine. Are you going to call yourself a cab then?”

He stood up and started pulling his clothes back on.

As he saw you sitting there on the bed, he gave you a crooked smile and grabbed a pen from your desk.

“Give me your hand,” he said.

You hesitated but then reached out to him. He scribbled something down for a moment.

“That’s my number. If you’re sober and still think this is a good idea, call me,” he offered with a warm smile.

You looked down at the messy numbers on your hand and cleared your throat.

“I’m not promising anything.”

“I know,” he said with a wink before leaving your bedroom.

Jungwoo

This feels so good,” you sigh dreamily as you sit at the edge of the pool, your legs dangling in the water.

Jungwoo sits beside you, his legs also submerged, enjoying the calm and the coolness of the water.

The two of you had snuck into the outdoor pool after closing hours to cool off on such a hot day.

You watch your toes wiggle under the surface, then an idea strikes you. You pull your legs out of the water and stand up.

“What are you doing?” Jungwoo asks curiously.

“This isn’t enough for me,” you grin, pulling your T-shirt over your head.

He watches you with wide eyes as you strip down to just your bra and panties, hands resting on your hips.

“Are you coming in too?”

“What if we get caught? We won’t exactly be able to just run away,” he says, sounding thoughtful — though his attention is completely fixed on you.

You pause for a second, then shrug before reaching behind your back to undo your bra.

You toss it at him with a mischievous grin.

Jungwoo laughs briefly, clearly not believing what he’s seeing, as you step out of your panties and jump into the water.

When you resurface, you shoot him a challenging look, wiggling your eyebrows.

“Coming in?”

He watches you for a moment, then grins and slowly gets up, starting to strip off his clothes.

Just as he’s about to jump in, you call out to him.

“Didn’t you forget something?”

He glances down at himself and notices he’s still wearing his boxers.

“Equal rights for everyone,” you tease, splashing a little water in his direction.

Jungwoo blushes slightly, fingers hesitating at the waistband before he takes a deep breath and pulls them down as well.

You can’t help but sneak a glance, grinning triumphantly as he finally jumps into the water and swims over to you.

You feel his hands at your waist as he surfaces, running a hand through his wet hair.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, and he pulls you into his lap.

“If I end up naked in jail because of you, I swear I’m going to kill you,” he laughs softly before you kiss him, your fingers threading through his damp hair.

Jungwoo gently pushes you backward until your back meets the edge of the pool.

You gasp for air briefly before pulling him into another passionate kiss. His arms are locked around your legs, holding you tightly against him.

When you pull away to catch your breath, he kisses along your neck, his fingers gliding over your skin.

You bite your lip and let out a soft moan, moving your hips against his, feeling him slowly harden.

“Jungwoo,” you breathe, your fingers trailing down his back.

He growls softly at the sensation of your nails and playfully bites your skin.

“Jungwoo,” you say again, more insistently this time.

The water ripples around you as you cup his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you.

“I— I want this… I want you… but I’m still a virgin,” you confess.

He looks at you, surprised, but says nothing for a moment.

Instead, he gently strokes your thighs, his expression unsure.

“And you’re sure you want this? Here?” he asks, concerned.

You smile brightly and kiss him quickly.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything. I really, really want this,” you whisper.

“But wouldn’t it be nicer—” he begins, but you cut him off with another kiss.

“It’s perfect. Honestly. I couldn’t imagine a better moment — or anyone I’d rather experience this with,” you tell him softly.

He looks at you for another moment, then brushes a wet strand of hair from your face and kisses you deeply.

He lifts you slightly, pressing you even closer to him, and you gasp softly as he mutters a quiet curse under his breath

Yuta

The sun was slowly setting as you and Yuta settled on the rooftop with a few blankets, a bottle of wine, and some food to enjoy the view.

It had been your idea — Yuta had had a long, exhausting day, and you wanted him to relax. You knew how hard he worked and thought he deserved some peace and quiet at your place.

The sky was already glowing red as you rested your head against his shoulder, absentmindedly tracing your fingers along his arm.

“This is nice,” you sighed.

When you didn’t get a response, you turned your head toward him.

“Yuta?”

Still no answer.

When you carefully lifted your head, you discovered your boyfriend had fallen asleep.

You chuckled softly before pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, which woke him up.

He frowned in confusion for a second, but the moment he opened his eyes and saw you, he smiled warmly.

“Should we go back inside? You should get some real sleep,” you suggested, starting to get up, but he pulled you back down against him.

“No, five more minutes,” he mumbled, wrapping his arms around you, pressing your head to his chest so you could hear his heartbeat.

He smelled incredible — that perfect, natural scent he always had without needing any cologne.

You inhaled deeply and kissed his collarbone softly.

“Oh, thanks,” he teased, grinning mischievously, and you pinched his arm.

“It’s unfair how good you smell naturally,” you mumbled against his shirt.

“Really? I think it’s pretty practical,” he said with a smug tone.

You rolled your eyes but kissed his collarbone again.

“How is that even possible? You come straight from training, eat greasy food, hang out with a bunch of guys, and you still smell heavenly,” you said in disbelief, sitting up slightly to look at him.

“It’s the testosterone. Drives women crazy,” he grinned cheekily.

“I hope you’re only talking about one woman,” you warned him playfully.

“Of course,” he laughed, kissing you sweetly.

You smiled into the kiss, then stood up briefly, making him look at you in confusion.

But you simply sat down in his lap, kissing him again — this time with more passion.

He seemed a little surprised but quickly pulled you tightly against him as you kissed along his neck, his hand slipping into your hair.

“What are you doing?” he asked quietly, his voice already a little rough.

“I can’t help it,” you whispered back, sliding your fingers under his shirt.

Goosebumps spread across his skin, and he closed his eyes briefly before leaning into you so your chest was pressed against his.

“You better control yourself. You’re driving me crazy,” he whispered with a crooked smile.

You returned his smile and raised an eyebrow.

“Good.”

He looked slightly startled, and you took his hands in yours, squeezing them tightly.

“There’s something you don’t know about me,” you admitted softly, making him look at you with concern.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, alarmed, his heartbeat speeding up.

“I’m a virgin,” you blurted out, feeling embarrassed.

He stared at you silently for a few seconds before leaning back a little to look you over.

“Really?”

You nodded, swallowing hard.

“Is… is that a problem for you?” you asked nervously.

He laughed and shook his head.

“To be honest…” he began, placing his hands firmly on your thighs.

You gasped in surprise at his strong grip, instinctively pressing your chest against him.

“That’s the hottest thing you’ve ever told me,” he added with a mischievous waggle of his eyebrows.

“Really?” you asked, shocked.

“Absolutely. And if you’re really sure you want to do this… I’m definitely not going to say no.

But I need you to be sure,” he warned you, brushing your cheek gently.

You thought for a moment, looked around, and bit your lip.

“Let’s stay up here,” you said.

“Seriously?” he laughed.

You giggled, pulling your top over your head and tossing it at him.

“It’s supposed to be special, right?” you said with a wicked grin.

Haechan

The party had been over for about half an hour. It was four in the morning, and almost everyone was either passed out or had disappeared with their hookups.

Johnny had offered you his bed earlier, but once he met your friend, it was clear he’d be needing it himself.

So here you were, sitting on the couch with a glass of water in your hand, trying to counter your inevitable hangover while staring blankly ahead.

You weren’t exactly tired yet — just very drunk. Damn Johnny and his persuasive ways.

You heard a noise and looked up.

Haechan stood in the doorway, rubbing his eyes. When he saw you, he gave a small wave and a nod.

“Hey.”

“Hey, where did you come from?” you asked, surprised.

“I fell asleep on the balcony chair. Nearly froze my ass off,” he said, rubbing his arms.

“You know if there’s a free room where no one’s having sex?” he asked hopefully.

“I don’t think so,” you grinned.

He sighed and glanced at your phone.

“Can I borrow your phone? I’ll call a cab.”

You looked around briefly and shifted on the couch.

“You can just take the couch. It’s too late to call a cab anyway.”

“No way, it’d be rude to kick you off,” he shook his head.

“I meant we could share the couch. You think I’m gonna sleep on the floor?” you asked, feigning offense.

“Is that really okay?”

“Shut up and sit down,” you grumbled.

He plopped down beside you and ran a hand through his hair.

“Did I miss much?”

“Honestly, I didn’t even know you were here,” you admitted with a laugh.

He grinned and pinched your side.

“Where’s Johnny?”

“With my friend in his bed… you know,” you said, smirking.

“Oh,” he said, surprised, glancing down the hallway.

“Damn.”

“What?”

“I thought he’d be hooking up with you,” he said casually.

You frowned, confused.

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, come on, I saw the way you were looking at him.”

“Oh god — we — no… just no. Johnny and I are good friends. That’s it. He’s really not my type,” you said quickly, scrunching up your nose.

Haechan scoffed, and although he reeked slightly of alcohol, he seemed more or less coherent.

“Can’t blame him though. Wish I hadn’t fallen asleep; maybe I’d be in a room right now too,” he sighed dramatically.

You rolled your eyes and patted his thigh.

“Poor guy,” you said sarcastically.

“Hey, you have no idea how rough it is,” he protested, biting his lip.

“I miss it — that physical closeness. There’s nothing better than feeling a woman’s warm body against yours, her soft skin under your hands while you explore her body, pressing her close, kissing her neck, feeling her melt under you, making her feel like she’s pure perfection. Even when you’re both sweating, bodies burning up… that feeling is indescribable,” he sighed.

Your breath caught in your throat.

Only now did you realize you hadn’t even blinked.

Haechan’s words echoed in your head, and your grip on your glass tightened.

The top three buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing part of his chest, a few beads of sweat glistening on his skin.

You bit your lip, your breathing getting a little faster.

When Haechan waved his hand in front of your face, you snapped out of your trance.

“What?” you asked, startled.

“I said, are you okay?” he repeated, confused.

You stared at him for a while, took a sip of your water, and then set the glass on the coffee table.

You turned toward him, taking a deep breath.

“Haechan?”

“Hm ?”

“Do you want to have sex?”

“I mean, did you even listen to me? I can barely hold it together. I’m dying here,” he scoffed.

You mustered all your courage and cleared your throat.

“I mean with me. Do you want to have sex with me?”

“What?” he laughed, but when he saw the serious look on your face, his smile faded.

“You’re serious?”

“The thing is, um… I don’t have much experience,” you admitted, your voice raspy, swallowing hard, “but everything you said earlier… it really got to me. And you were right. I want that too.”

He looked you up and down, thinking for a moment.

“Or am I that awful?” you asked, hurt, glancing down at yourself.

“No,” he said quickly, scratching the back of his head.

“Quite the opposite… it’s just — I have to ask, since we’ve been drinking — are you really sure you want this?” he asked uncertainly.

You nodded, shrugging slightly.

“So, are you just all talk, or can you actually back it up?” you teased him with a smirk.

He scoffed and raised an eyebrow.

“You tell me,” he said, pulling you roughly into his lap.

[klowiishere]

My Favorite Fanfic List

Just wanted to make a list of my favorite fanfics, so I don't have to bother searching again when I want to reread.

Some may have content that makes you uncomfortable. So please check the warning in the main post. (Only if you happen to find this list, hehe)

I know most of them are Johnny and Jaehyun fanfics. Haha. There will probably be more

Johnny Suh

[8:26 P.M] @whereisten

Baby  @sehunniepotwrites

Claim @smileysuh

forget me too @yutaholic

Homecoming @caiuscassiuss

I’ll Send All My Loving to You @sehunniepotwrites

Kiss me, Kiss me @sehunniepotwrites

Love is A Beauty @peanutpinet

Love Is On Air by @raibebe

Make Me Move @yutaholic

Setup @smileysuh

Sing For Me @whereisten

Take The Leap  @sehunniepotwrites

The Cinderella Search by @sluttyten

Touch @yuta-nakamots

Well Played @caiuscassiuss

Lee Taeyeong

Late Night Adventures with a Green Haired Kingpin (Series-ongoing) @whereisten

Small Doses @yutaholic

The Wedding Singer (Series-ongoing) @whereisten

Nakamoto Yuta

Caught @all-about-kyu

Cologne @jaelvr

Fuchsia-Colored Glasses @whereisten

Nanny Cam by @sluttyten

Otou-Chan by @yutahoes

Sakura Kiss @sehunniepotwrites

Jeong Jaehyun

Arranged @smileysuh

Blind Date by @luvhaos

Boyfriend Material @mochidoie

Don’t Look  @cheolsbitch

For You by @sluttyten

He Fell First And He Fell Harder @taurusdaylight

In The Rain @sehunniepotwrites

It Only Takes One Night @whereisten

King of the Streets @anashins

Love Alarm @aeristudios

Love Song @aeristudios

Marry Me @cbeargyu

My Mister? @mieohmy

Only Fate Can Tell @charmingyong

Ordinary People @ppangjae

PLANET GIRL @ppangjae

Promises @whereisten

Romeo Roulette @wincore

Something Stupid@sehunniepotwrites

Song For A Little Sparrow @ppangjae

Sugar Daddy!Jaehyun [Part 1] – [Part 2] @freakynct

SUN&MOON @ppangjae

Team Captain @smileysuh

Winter Bird @yutaholic

[yongility]

NEO TV # i like me better when i'm with you ꗃ╭╯ jung jaehyun.

──────── chapter ⵌ 8: ghosts of the past.

𒄬 genre: slowburn / angst / suggestive / gang au / rich kid au / e2l

𒄬 warnings: drug use mention / gang activity / fights / use of weapons / adult language / nsfw scenes / illegal activities / mentions of cheating / toxic family enviroment / addictions / manipulation / insecurities / illegal street racing / death mentions / jeno is jaehyun's brother / lots of angst. - cursives are flashbacks in this chapter.

𒄬word count: 4k

if you want to be in the taglist, just lemme know;) enjoy!

The stars didn’t shine in Neo Zone. At least, not the way they did in books.

Jaehyun used to search for them all the time as a child— staring up at the polluted sky, wondering if they had disappeared forever or if they were simply hiding… afraid, just like him. He had asked his father once, on a night much like this, as they sat on the sidewalk of their house.

“Why don’t we have stars, Dad?”

His father had smiled then. a tired, weathered kind of smile, the kind that carried too many things left unsaid. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a cigarette – a mint one — lighting it with a flick of his old metal lighter. The orange glow flickered against his sharp features, casting deep shadows under his eyes.

“We do have them, kiddo. They’re still up there… you just can’t see them from here”

Jaehyun had frowned, kicking a rock that was near his feet and pouting slightly. “Why not?”

“Because this part of the city is too loud. Too many lights, too much smoke. The sky is covered in all the things people would rather not see.”

Jaehyun didn’t understand what he meant back then. He only knew that the stars were gone, and it felt like the universe had abandoned this place.

“Does that mean we can never see them?”

His father hesitated. And now, years later, Jaehyun would recognize it for what is was – a moment of truth too painful to say aloud.

“Not unless you find a way out, son.”

There had been something in his father’s voice that night… something heavy, like a man speaking from experience. Jaehyun hadn’t questioned it. He had simply leaned into this father’s side, feeling the weight of the man’s arm around him. It was one of the only times his father had truly held him, warmth radiating from his body despite the cold wind that always howled through Neo Zone´s streets.

“Do you ever wish we lived somewhere else?” Jaehyun had asked quietly.

His father chuckled, ruffling Jaehyun’s messy hair. “All the time.”

“Then why don’t we leave?”

His father didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he looked down at his cigarette, tapping the ashes off the edge off the sidewalk. His face had darkened, deep in thought, his usual sharp confidence replaced with something Jaehyun now knew was regret.

“Because some places don't let you leave, Yoonoh. No matter how much you want to.”

Jaehyun had furrowed his brows at that. It didn’t make sense to him. Back then, he still believed that anyone could choose their own future.

“That’s stupid” he muttered, pouting. “If you wanna leave, just leave.”

His father had smiled again, but this time. There was sadness behind it, something Jaehyun couldn’t quite place. His father had looked at him then — really looked at him, the way a man looks at something too precious to keep safe in a world like this one.

“You’re still young, kiddo. That 's good. Keep thinking like that for as long as you can.”

“But you’ll leave one day, won’t you?” Jaehyun had pressed. “You and me… and Jeno?”

His father had turned away at that, staring to the dark sky… looking for the stars.

“Maybe you will” he murmured. “But me? I was born in this place… and I’ll die in it”

Jaehyun hated that answer. He hadn’t understood why his father spoke about himself like he was already gone. He had wanted to argue, to tell him that they could leave together, that they could find a place where the stars were bright, where they could breathe air that didn’t taste like metal and cigarette smoke.

“Listen to me, Yoonoh. When you grow up, I need you to be safe—  to watch your back. I need you to take care of Jeno”.

Jaehyun blinked up at him. “Why?”

His father’s eyes were distant, as if he was seeing something Jaehyun wasn’t. Something he hoped his son would never have to see.

“Because in this zone, people don’t like it when you start thinking for yourself. The higher-ups?” he scoffed bitterly, shaking his head. “They’ll smile at you, tell you you’re one of them. But the second they think you’re a liability? They’ll take matters into their own hands.”

Jaehyun shivered, not just from the cold, but from the way his father said it.

“Doesn’t matter who you are, the position you are in… in this place you just have to be in the way to go down if they want to.”

Jaehyun hadn’t fully understood what his father was trying to warn him about. He had thought his father was just being paranoid… but his father deep down knew what was coming and Jaehyun wishes he also knew back then…

Because weeks later, his father was dead.

And Jaehyun never saw the stars again.

Jaehyun wasn’t expecting to see Jeno when he walked into the room.

 But there he was.

Sitting comfortably across from Sooman, one arm draped over the back of the leather chair, his posture too casual— too at home in a place he didn’t belong. At home with the person that was the reason for all the bad things that had happened to him. A cigarette burned between his fingers, the thin stream of some curling lazily towards the ceiling. The dim lighting made him look older, sharper, like he had already shed the last pieces of the kid Jaehyun had spent his life trying to protect.

It took Jaehyun a second to react. Just a second. But it was long enough.

Jeno noticed. Sooman noticed.

And suddenly, Jaehyun felt like he was the outsider in this room.

“Took you long enough, hyung” Jeno muttered, not bothering to stand.

Jaehyun’s jaw tightened. He ignored the empty chair Sooman gestured to, his focus locked on Jeno.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Jeno smirked, tapping the ashes off his cigarette. “Business.”

Jaehyun turned to Sooman, voice tense. “Since when?”

Sooman leaned back, swirling the whiskey in his glass, amused by the exchange. “Since I said so.”

Jaehyun’s fists clenched, but he forced his voice to stay calm. “He’s not ready for this.”

Jeno scoffed, shaking his head. “You heard that boss? Hyung thinks I’m still a kid.”

Sooman chuckled, setting his drink down. "I hear it." His gaze flicked back to Jaehyun, sharp and knowing. "But I also see what’s in front of me."

Jaehyun didn’t like that answer.

Jeno sat up slightly, rolling his shoulders like he was shaking off a weight. "You always do this," he muttered. "Act like you can control me just because you got here first."

Jaehyun exhaled slowly, forcing himself to keep his temper in check.

"That’s not what this is about."

Jeno arched a brow. "No? Then what is it about?"

Jaehyun didn’t answer.

Because the truth was, he didn’t know how to explain it—this gut-wrenching, sinking feeling in his chest. The way his father’s voice echoed in his head, reminding him of the little boy who once followed him around, who clung to his hoodie in his sleep, who looked up to him with eyes that still saw something worth admiring.

"He’s lucky to have you, you know? He’ll look up to you one day. Just make sure he has something worth looking up to."

Jaehyun had spent years trying to protect Jeno from this world.

And now?

Jeno was staring at him like he was the problem.

Sooman watched the silent tension between them with interest before finally speaking.

"Relax, Jaehyun," he said smoothly. "Your brother’s not a child anymore. He’s smart. Capable. And most importantly, he’s loyal."

Jaehyun hated the way he said that.

"That’s why I trust him to be here," Sooman continued. "To sit at this table. To handle things like a man."

Jaehyun’s stomach twisted.

Because Sooman wasn’t just praising Jeno.

He was claiming him.

Jaehyun knew this game. Sooman had played it with him, too. And now, he was playing it with Jeno—feeding him just enough power, just enough approval, so that he would never want to leave.

Jeno wasn’t just sitting at this table. He was being pulled into it.

Jaehyun finally sank into the chair, his movements slower than usual, measured. His eyes never left Sooman.

"So what’s this meeting really about?" he asked.

Sooman smiled. "Business, of course." He leaned forward slightly, voice calm, almost casual. "The exchange is happening soon. I need you ready."

Jaehyun felt the weight of those words settle over him.

"And Jeno?"

"He’ll be ready, too."

Jaehyun’s heart clenched, but his expression remained blank.

Sooman was pulling Jeno in, deeper and deeper, with every word, every look, every casual nod of approval. And Jaehyun couldn’t stop it. Not here. Not now.

So he said nothing.

Sooman leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table. His gaze flickered between the two brothers before settling back on Jaehyun.

"You’re unusually tense today." He smirked. "That exchange got you nervous?"

Jaehyun forced himself to keep his expression neutral. "No."

"Good." Sooman studied him for a moment longer, as if peeling back layers Jaehyun had spent years building. "Because I don’t need hesitation."

Jaehyun stayed silent.

Sooman reached for his drink, taking a slow sip before setting it down with a soft clink. "Jeno tells me you’ve been a little... distracted lately."

Jaehyun’s fingers twitched under the table.

He turned to Jeno, his voice steady. "That what you’ve been doing? Running your mouth?"

Jeno just exhaled another slow breath of smoke, unbothered. "Just saying what I see."

Sooman tilted his head, his smirk widening just a little. "You wouldn’t be letting anything... personal interfere with your duties, would you, Jaehyun?"

Jaehyun knew exactly what he meant.

His pulse thrummed in his ears, but his voice was smooth when he answered.

"No, boss."

Sooman watched him for another second, then nodded in approval.

"Good."

Jaehyun stayed quiet, staring at the table as Sooman took another sip of his drink.

"Jeno, step out for a moment," Sooman said suddenly.

Jeno hesitated, glancing between them.

"Why?"

Sooman gave him a look. "Did I stutter?"

Jeno exhaled, muttering something under his breath as he pushed himself up from the chair. His cigarette burned low, the last ember glowing faintly before he dropped it into the ashtray.

As he passed Jaehyun, his voice was low.

"Try not to embarrass yourself, hyung."

Jaehyun didn’t move. Didn’t react.

Just stared at the smoke curling from Jeno’s abandoned cigarette.

The last piece of warmth fading into nothing.

The door shut behind him.

And Jaehyun finally looked up.

Sooman’s eyes were already on him, unreadable.

"Now," he said, his tone almost amused. "Let’s talk."

Jaehyun didn’t sit.

The chair across from Sooman was empty, waiting, but he stayed standing. His fists curled at his sides, jaw clenched tight enough to ache.

Jeno was gone. Sooman had sent him out like a child dismissed from the dinner table.

But Jaehyun knew better.

That hadn’t been dismissal. That had been claiming.

And now, Sooman was watching him, like he always did—calm, amused, dangerous.

Sooman sighed, motioning lazily to the chair. "I’m not gonna bite. Sit."

Jaehyun sat.

Not because he wanted to. But because this was how it worked. You didn’t refuse Sooman.

"You seemed tense earlier," Sooman mused, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. "Something bothering you?"

Jaehyun knew the game.

This wasn’t concern. This was a test.

"No."

Sooman hummed, unconvinced. "Good. Because I need your head in the right place."

The words sat heavy in the space between them.

Jaehyun knew what this was about. The exchange. The weapons deal. The reason he was still in this life.

"I assume you’re ready."

Jaehyun’s jaw tightened. "I’ll be there."

"That’s not what I asked."

Jaehyun finally looked up. Sooman was watching him carefully, dark eyes sharp with something unreadable.

"I don’t like surprises, Jaehyun. I need to know that when the time comes, you’re not going to hesitate."

Jaehyun held his gaze. Didn’t blink.

"I won’t."

For a moment, silence.

Then, Sooman smiled.

Not a kind smile. Not approval.

Something colder. Sharper.

"That’s what I like about you," he murmured. "You understand how things work."

Jaehyun didn’t respond.

He wasn’t sure if it was a compliment or a warning.

Sooman leaned back in his chair, setting his glass down with a soft clink.

"Jeno’s got that same drive, you know."

Jaehyun’s stomach twisted.

He should have known. Of course this was about Jeno.

"Smart kid," Sooman continued, like this was just a casual conversation. "Quick on his feet. Knows how to read a room. You should be proud of him."

Jaehyun forced himself to stay still.

"He’s not ready for this."

Sooman tilted his head. "Neither were you."

The words hit like a hammer to the chest.

"But you adapted."

Jaehyun’s grip tightened on his knee.

"You think I don’t see it?" Sooman’s voice was almost amused now. "The way you tense up every time his name comes up? The way you look at him like he’s a little kid, while he’s sitting at the same table as you?"

Jaehyun didn’t respond.

Because Sooman was right.

"You spent all these years trying to protect him," Sooman mused, lifting his drink. "And yet, here he is."

Jaehyun swallowed. His father’s voice whispered once again replaying the same words in the back of his mind.

"He’s lucky to have you, you know? He’ll look up to you one day. Just make sure he has something worth looking up to."

But Jeno didn’t look up to him anymore.

Jeno was looking up at Sooman.

"You should be proud," Sooman said again, softer this time. "He’s one of us now."

Jaehyun’s fingers dug into his jeans.

"Jeno’s got a future here."

Jaehyun’s throat tightened. The final nail in the coffin.

Because there was no future outside of this.

Not for him. And now, not for Jeno.

Sooman leaned forward slightly, voice dropping lower. "And you, Jaehyun… you wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize your brother’s future, would you?"

Jaehyun’s pulse thundered in his ears.

It wasn’t a question.

It was a threat.

"No." His voice came out flat. Lifeless.

Sooman smirked. "That’s what I thought."

Jaehyun felt sick.

Sooman picked up his glass again, taking a slow sip before speaking again—this time, more casual.

"You’ve been a bit of a topic lately, you know."

Jaehyun forced himself to look up.

"People talk," Sooman continued, swirling the whiskey in his hand. "They notice things. Like who you spend your time with."

Jaehyun’s spine stiffened.

Sooman was watching him too closely now, like he was waiting to see if Jaehyun would flinch.

"It’s nothing to worry about," he murmured, voice smooth. "I just think it’s best if you keep a little… distance."

Jaehyun’s grip tightened.

"You understand why, don’t you?"

There it was.

The real reason for this conversation.

The exchange was just an obligation. Jeno was already claimed.

But (Y/N)?

She was a problem.

Sooman wasn’t threatening her. Not directly. Not yet.

But he didn’t have to.

Jaehyun knew what happened to people who became liabilities.

"I don’t need distractions on my team," Sooman added, taking another sip of his drink. "And you don’t need them either."

Jaehyun exhaled slowly.

"I understand."

"Good."

Sooman leaned back, looking satisfied.

"That’ll be all, then."

Jaehyun hesitated. Just for a second.

"Jeno…" His voice barely sounded like his own. "He’s still young. You don’t have to rush him into this."

Sooman studied him.

Then, he smiled.

"Your father said the same thing about you once."

Jaehyun didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.

Sooman reached for his lighter, flicking it open. The flame danced in the dim light, flickering gold against his expression.

"Look at you now."

Silence.

The night was too quiet.

The kind that wraps around your chest and sinks its claws in deep.

The city was always loud—always alive with the hum of neon lights, the distant echoes of tires screeching, the faint murmur of conversations in alleyways. But tonight?

Tonight, there was nothing.

That was the first sign.

(Y/N) had been texting Daeho for hours. No response. She had tried calling, too—straight to voicemail. That was the second sign.

Daeho had been dodging her all day, but that wasn’t unusual. He was good at running. Good at pretending everything was fine until it wasn’t.

But this time, something was off.

She didn’t know how to explain it—just a gnawing, stomach-turning sense of dread creeping up her spine.

Something was wrong.

(Y/N) sat in her parked car, phone pressed to her ear, waiting. Listening. But there was no answer.

Again.

Her screen dimmed, the contact name DAEHO staring back at her, the last messages left unread.

9:57 PM – Where are you? Ur mom have been calling me all day asking about you… 9:59 PM – I know your parents are away and you hate that, but at least answer their calls.10:20 PM – Daeho, pick up your damn phone.10:45 PM – I swear, if you’re doing something stupid again—

The typing bubble had appeared for a second. Just one. Then it vanished.

Her fingers curled around the phone, pressing redial.

Ring.

Ring.

Voicemail.

Her heartbeat stuttered.

Daeho was reckless. Self-destructive. A disaster waiting to happen. But he always picked up. Even if it was to curse her out for nagging..

Something wasn’t right.

With Daeho being in a vulnerable state everytime his parents were away off the city, (Y/N) didn’t want to think the worst… but it was impossible, because when her stomach twisted, she didn’t hesitate the slightest– she just drove.

Lots of memories filled her mind as she drove her cars with her legs trembling — her family lake house held her most precious childhood moments with Daeho and she knew it held the same feeling to him. That’s why when she knew his cousin wasn't anywhere near the city… she found herself driving to that place.

Which it didn’t quite set well for her.

As she drove, her hands trembling on the wheel, memories of childhood flooded her mind. The family lake house, the place where so much of her life had unfolded alongside Daeho. The laughter, the secrets, the comfort of familiarity. She knew the house like the back of her hand, knew the way it felt to step through its doors.

It was a place of safety. Of home.

But tonight, as she turned onto the road leading there, it felt wrong. The air felt thick, heavy with something dark, something ominous.

The moment she pulled into the driveway, her chest tightened. She didn’t even need to step inside to know something was wrong.

The air outside was thick with an unspoken warning, thick like smoke, clinging to her skin.

Her legs carried her to the stairs almost of their own volition, her heart pounding in her ears, but her feet felt leaden, as if each step was harder than the last.

The door stood ajar. Not wide open, but just enough to leave room for doubt.

A voice inside her screamed to turn around. To leave. To get out.

She knew– She knew even before she even stepped inside.

The air was too thick, the kind of silence that wrapped around your ribs and squeezed.

And then—

Her breath hitched.

Daeho.

Her breath caught, and for a moment, time seemed to stop. He was lying there, motionless, his body sprawled on the floor in a way that didn’t seem natural. Still.

Too still.

It took a beat for her brain to catch up with what she was seeing, her mind desperately trying to reject the image in front of her.

But her body was already moving.

"Daeho!"

She was at his side in a heartbeat, dropping to her knees, hands shaking as she gripped his shoulders, her voice raw as she begged, "Wake up. Please. Wake up."

Nothing.

His skin was clammy, his breathing ragged, eyelids fluttering but not opening.

His skin was cold, clammy, his chest rising and falling with labored breaths that were too ragged. His eyes fluttered but didn’t open.

A wheezing breath rasped out of him, the sound like a death rattle in the stillness. 

Shallow. Wrong.

Panic surged through her veins, hot and violent, swallowing her whole.

"No, no, no, no—Daeho, wake up! Please—"

Her fingers scrambled against his pulse point.

Faint. Too faint.

She gasped, barely managing to grab her phone. Her hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

Ring.

Ring.

"911, what’s your emergency?"

Her voice was unrecognizable—broken, panicked, fragile. "It’s my cousin, he’s—he’s not waking up. I think he overdosed. I don’t know what he took, but—he’s barely breathing—please, you have to send someone—"

Her words were tumbling out of her mouth, fractured and disconnected, her focus wavering between the dispatcher’s voice and Daeho’s still, too-still form.

Nothing. No movement.

Her hand shook as she pressed it against his clammy face, trying to force his eyes open.

Daeho wasn’t moving.

He wasn’t fighting her anymore.

Her free hand reached up, gripping his face, trying to force his eyes open.

"Daeho, listen to me—stay with me, okay? Help is coming. Just—just hold on."

Her voice cracked.

"You hear me? Just stay awake."

He didn’t respond.

Didn’t even twitch.

Tears blurred her vision, hot and stinging. She didn’t even realize she was crying.

She needed to call someone else. Someone who would come.

Her heart pounded in her chest, erratic, like a trapped bird trying to escape its cage. The phone trembled in her hand as she dialed his number, each passing second feeling like it stretched into infinity. She could barely breathe through the panic that twisted in her gut, the air around her growing thin, almost suffocating. Her thoughts were jumbled, a whirlwind of fear and desperation.

"Pick up, please, just pick up," she whispered, her lips barely moving.

The phone rang again. Once. Twice. The third time, her breath hitched.

"Please, please, Jae” Her voice cracked, a soft, broken plea that carried more weight than she could bear.

And then, just as her panic reached its peak, his voice cut through the chaos. Low. Sleepy at first, like he’d been woken from a dream.

"Angel?"

Hearing him, hearing that voice—so familiar, so warm—was like a thread of sanity pulling her back, just for a moment. But it wasn’t enough to stop the tidal wave of fear crashing through her.

"Daeho... Daeho’s not waking up. He’s not moving." Her words were disjointed, stumbling over themselves as she fought to keep her composure, but it was slipping through her fingers like sand. She could hear the desperate edge in her own voice—the pleading that she couldn’t stop, no matter how hard she tried.

"I don’t know what he took, Jaehyun. He’s barely breathing… please, you have to come, you have to help him!"

Her hand shook violently, gripping the phone so tightly her knuckles turned white. The words felt like they were being ripped from her throat, each one harder to get out than the last. She could hear the hollow sound of her own voice, breaking with the weight of everything she couldn’t control.

Jaehyun was silent for a moment, his breath slow and steady, as though he was trying to process what she was saying. He couldn’t help the flicker of hesitation that passed through him. It was the first time they had spoken in days, the first time since their fight. That distance, that anger—they were still there, lingering between them like a heavy fog.

But it didn’t matter. Not now.

"Where are you?" His voice was sharper now, like a switch had been flipped. Cold, direct. He had no time for awkwardness or old wounds.

His pulse hammered in his chest as he gripped the steering wheel of his car, already on the move. He wasn’t sure if he was moving because of the urgency of the situation or because hearing her voice—desperate, broken—was too much to ignore.

"I’m at the lake house, Jaehyun. He’s... he’s not moving, he’s not—"

She couldn’t finish the sentence. The words felt too much to say aloud, too real. Too final.

Jaehyun’s jaw clenched, the weight of the moment sinking in. This wasn’t the time for past arguments, for bitterness. For a second, he wanted to scream at her for the way things had ended between them, for how they had left things unresolved. But her words—her panic—had him pressing down harder on the accelerator.

"Stay with me, okay?" Jaehyun’s voice softened for just a moment, before the tension rose again, thick and strong. He couldn’t afford to show weakness, not when she needed him. "You’re not alone, (Y/N). Breathe, just breathe."

He could feel the tightness in his chest, the sharp pang of regret as he remembered their last conversation—the one where they both said things they didn’t mean. The one where silence had stretched for days. But that didn’t matter now.

Just her. Just Daeho.

"Just focus on breathing for me," he said, trying to keep her grounded, even as his own hands trembled. His voice was steady, but the fear was there—beneath it all, in the spaces between his words.

"Just stay with him. Help’s on the way," he urged, his mind spinning with the worst-case scenario, but he couldn’t let it show.

But (Y/N) wasn’t responding. She was breathing faster now, her panicked gasps cutting through the silence between them. It wasn’t enough to reassure him, to calm him down.

"I’m almost there, just hold on." His words were desperate, cracked at the edges, as though he couldn’t quite believe them himself.

His hands gripped the wheel tighter, knuckles white. He was already second-guessing every move he made, replaying the moments before the fight, wondering where it all went wrong between them. But there was no room for that now.

"Stay strong, (Y/N). I’m coming," Jaehyun whispered, almost to himself. He couldn’t leave her alone—not now, not when she was falling apart. He had to be there.

Her sobs were muffled now, and his heart broke at the sound. The cracks in her voice were unmistakable, and it drove a wedge deeper between them—familiar, but painful.

"I swear, (Y/N), just hold on." Jaehyun’s words, softer now, cracked under the weight of what they both had yet to face.

He should have seen this coming. Of course it was Daeho.

The kid had been on a collision course for months. Jaehyun had watched it happen—hadn’t stopped it.

By the time he arrived, the ambulance was already there.

Red and blue lights pulsed in the dark, sirens slicing through the night like a warning too late.

Jaehyun stopped mid-step.

Daeho was being wheeled out on a stretcher.

And he looked—

Gone.

For one horrifying second, Jaehyun thought it was too late.

Then, a flicker of movement—fingers twitching.

Still alive. Barely.

(Y/N) climbed into the ambulance with him.

Jaehyun didn’t.

He just stood there, watching the doors shut.

Jaehyun found (Y/N) in the waiting area, curled up in one of the plastic chairs, looking smaller than he’d ever seen her.

But before he could speak—

Jaehyun barely had time to register the shift in the air before (Y/N)’s mother was upon him.

Her presence was suffocating, like an icy gust cutting through the sterile hospital lights. The faint hum of the fluorescent lights above seemed to only heighten the intensity of her stare—sharp, unforgiving, a laser focus locked onto him as if she were seeing nothing but the embodiment of everything that had gone wrong.

"You."

Her voice rang out, filled with so much venom it made the air crackle with it.

She stormed toward him, her heels striking the floor with heavy, purposeful steps, her entire body coiled with an intensity he hadn’t seen before. Jaehyun didn’t flinch, but it took everything in him not to. She reached him in seconds, the scent of expensive perfume mingling with the sterile hospital air, and before he could even brace himself, her hand collided with his chest. The impact pushed him back a step, the force behind it surprising for someone so refined.

Her fingers dug into his shirt, her eyes cold as ice, her voice cutting through the space between them like a blade. "This is your fault."

Each word hit him like a physical blow, but it wasn’t just the blame in her tone that stung. It was the weight of it—the certainty, the finality of the accusation. She wasn’t just blaming him for Daeho’s condition. She was blaming him for the decay she saw in her family, the damage he had brought into their perfect, orderly life.

"You ruined everything," she spat, her voice trembling with barely contained fury. "You, with your dirty past, your gang... You think you can just waltz into my daughter’s life, drag her down into this mess, and there are no consequences?"

Jaehyun’s heart pounded in his chest, the words sinking in like poison. He had expected some anger, some condemnation, but hearing it in her voice—the disgust, the judgment—felt like he was being stripped of every last scrap of dignity.

"You came from nothing," she went on, her face twisted in a mixture of disdain and sorrow. "And now, my daughter is tangled up with you. With your filthy, violent world. You’ve turned everything upside down, and for what? She has a future! and you know who also has a future? Daeho! but now my nephew’s life is hanging by a thread, all because you people… all of the Neo Zone people do is ruin other people's lives…I knew you were gonna be a problem the night I saw you with my daughter.”

Jaehyun didn’t speak. He couldn’t. What could he say? She wasn’t wrong. Deep down, he knew the weight of the destruction he’d caused—the violence, the danger he had brought into her life, into her family’s life. But hearing it so plainly, so directly from her mouth... It was suffocating.

Her mother laughed bitterly, shaking her head. "You’re a joke. She’s a pawn in your world now, and don’t you dare try to make me believe otherwise."

Her words were venomous, cutting deep into his soul, ripping away the thin threads of self-worth he had clung to. He wasn’t just a disappointment to her. To her, he was a symbol of everything that could tarnish her family’s reputation—everything that had the potential to tear them apart.

(Y/N) moved to step in, her hand outstretched as if to intervene, but her mother’s cold gaze stopped her in her tracks. "No," she said sharply, her voice filled with finality. "Not this time."

Turning back to Jaehyun, her expression softened only slightly—enough for the raw, trembling hurt in her eyes to seep through. "You’ve done enough. You’ve broken my family. You people have broken him."

Jaehyun swallowed hard, but there was nothing he could say. 

(Y/N)’s mother gave him one last, hateful look before she turned away, dismissing him without a second thought. 

As her mother walked away, Jaehyun stood there, the weight of her words pressing down on him, suffocating him in the silence that followed. His hands were shaking. His mind was reeling. He had known the consequences of his life, but hearing her accuse him, hearing the complete destruction in her voice... that was something he hadn’t prepared for.

He stood there for a long moment, unsure of how to move, unsure of what to do next.

With one last glance toward (Y/N), he turned, walking away without a word, each step feeling like the final severing of a bond he hadn’t even known was important until it was already too late.

His father once told him that life was about the choices you made. But standing there, staring at the cold hospital doors, Jaehyun realized—maybe he had already made his choice.

a/n: NOT PROOFEAD! i would really love if you could gave sum feedback!(specially since english is not my first language, so it makes it a little harder to write).

taglist is open! if you want to be added just lemme know;)

taglist: @spicyryujin @daegalismybiasinnct @peachfulnight @gojoscumslut @bluedbliss @dear-97 @girlwholovespreppyattire @hana-off-icial @cigarettesafterjae @bts-iris @dojaejung @methneo @kriizztin @mrsuhnshine @pieddpiperr @completelyjae @daegalismybiasinnct @kanekisheart (idk why some of the tags just don’t work out!)

Feel free to send any asks here if you want!

[softsan]

˚ 🥀⊹ 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋, 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄. (𝐩𝐭.𝟏)

✉️ ・ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.

✉️ ・ ── 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬: | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 |

✉️ ・ ── 𝐦𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐨���𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 | 𝐲/𝐧'𝐬 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬

✉️ ・ ── 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: Mafia AU, Angst, Kingpin!Taeyong, Queenpin!Y/N, Fem!Reader, Childhood friends, Betrayal, Enemies to lovers, Eventual Smut. ✉️ ・ ── 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧:  You were the only surviving heir of the old-time Mafia kingpin that had ruled the four territories. You were long thought to be dead, living the normal life you had always wanted...Until you run into a Taeyong, a formidable ghost from your past. You are then thrown back into the Mafia underbelly, reuniting with enemies you had hoped had forgotten you. Will you run away? Will you stand beside Taeyong, kingpin of the North, and be his queen? Or will you take your rightful revenge.

✉️ ・ ── 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Possessive Themes, Future Explicit Sexual Content, Murder, Kidnapping, Strangulation, Torture, Weapons, Graphic Violence, Heavy Angst, Explicit Language, Alcohol Consumption, Mentions of Drugs, Betrayal, Morally Grey Characters.

✉️ ・ ── 𝐨𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.

Past. 

You felt all the air leave your lungs, your chest constricting as you tried to gasp for just one more breath. You heard the patter of your blood as it hit the hardwood floors.

“Y/N,” His desperate eyes plead. 

“What did you do to her?!” Your brother demanded, yanking against the chains that were secured around his wrists. 

“Good catch Taeyong!” One of your captors clapped his hand on Taeyong’s back.

You tried to lift your shoulders, but they refused to support the weight of your head. You were but a lifeless heap, carelessly discarded and left to slowly bleed out on the ground. The man’s sickening laughter echoed throughout the room, filling what was left of your heart with dread.  

“Do it,” His voice urged, “Kill her now.”

Present.

“Today will be different,” You stared at yourself in the mirror, “Today I will smile, and I’ll mean it.” Your eyes circled down to your neck, your confidence waning. 

“Come on!” Your roommate urged, “You can say it better than that.” 

Your shoulders slumped in defeat, “You make me say the same thing at the start of every semester.”

Your roommate clicked her tongue, looking up from her phone. “And I believe this semester is going to be fucking fantastic.” She pointed at your white dress that cut just above the knees. “Look, we’re both looking cuter than ever. We have a new apartment,” She pointed to the living room’s ceiling to exaggerate her point. “This is our second year at college, and you, my friend, are going to put yourself out there.”

You shook your head in dread. “I thought we agreed that in this household, you can be the party fiend, and I’ll be the one that spends her nights binging TV shows on Netflix.”

Your roommate Jen threw you a dirty look.

“Hey! Who else is going to keep the universe in balance.”

Your roommate rolled her eyes. “The world is not going to stop spinning on its axis if you go out once in a while.”

“I highly doubt that.” You mutter to yourself, earning a playful hit from your dear roommate.

You and your roommate Jennifer had been cohabitating with one another since you were both seventeen. Back then, it had been a struggle to find someone willing to share a space with a teenager. That coupled with the awful reputation your foster father and sister had garner for themselves, you weren’t exactly considered an ideal house mate. However, to your pleasant surprise Jen was equally in need of someone to cover half of her rent. 

You had somewhat known about Jen prior to living with her. She had been quite popular at your school, the social butterfly. Admittedly, you were a little suprised to hear she like you, had moved out on her own, yet you never pried. 

Despite, her cheerful demeanor, you sensed a sadness akin to your own. You were both content pretending the other didn’t have secrets they’d buried deep inside their pasts. 

The day had been too long, and the sight of a setting sun was a welcome one. A picturesque scene of pink and oranges painted the skies which backdropped Taeyong’s beloved city. 

“Let’s get a drink to cool down,” Johnny piped, securing his gun back in his trousers.

Mark looked over disapprovingly, “You know you should really invest in a holster.”

“Not a chance!” Johnny grinned, “Taeil will flip if I make another extravagant purchase this month.” 

Taeyong slightly shook his head, half-heartedly smiling. Taeil, his consigliere had only gotten on Johnny’s case after he bought two restaurants and three record stores on a whim. Johnny simply was dead set on never purchasing himself a holster.  

Mark discerning Johnny’s lame excuse, decided to play along, “If you’re tight on money, why don’t we drink at the crappy-looking place.” He pointed to a shabby, bar with rusted molding at the end of the street. 

Taeyong grimaced, he didn’t like spending too much time in disputed territory. The street they were standing on fell in a grey area, both claimed by him, the King of the North, and the terrible Black Crow of the West. 

“We should head back closer to base,” Renjun cut in, noticing Taeyong’s hesitancy.  

Taeyong had his own bars and hotels where he could drink and dine with complete ease. He saw no need to do so here. 

“Let’s do it,” Johnny exclaimed, pulling a protesting Renjun into a friendly headlock.

“It’ll be fine,” Mark reassured, nudging Taeyong’s shoulder. “Nobody’s that stupid to take on all four of us.”

“I’m here! I’m here!” You breathlessly apologized to your manager, reaching for a bar apron.

“It’s fine,” He assured, handing you a docket, “First day back?” 

You nodded, trying to catch your breath “It’s the first day, and I feel like I’m already behind on all of my classes.” 

“Well, tonight should be pretty standard for a weekday.” He commented, his eyes scanning the empty tables, “I’ll be up upstairs talking to a supplier but, give me a wave if you need me.” 

“Will do.” It wasn’t uncommon for you to be working the bar alone.

The 'Old Sand Bucket' where you worked was certainly past its prime. Its interior was outdated, half of the bar stools wobbled, and even the bar counter was unleveled. It just wasn’t a place that attracted a surplus of people. 

You pulled your first load of wine glasses from the dishwasher, lifting them into the bar to be polished.

The door to the bar chimed, “Welcome to the Old Sand Bucket.” You said, without looking upward. “What can I get you?”

Taeyong gave the bar a lengthy overview. It didn’t appear to be suspicious, just the opposite. The dated bar was completely unoccupied beside the humming bartender who was mindlessly polishing wine glasses.

He examined you like the rest, evaluating the level of threat you were. Your head stayed down, occupied with your task. You barely spared a glance at his boys, who began ordering drinks.

You wore a simple black shirt underneath a bar apron with the ‘Old Sand Bucket’ labeled on its front. Your hair was tied in a low ponytail, revealing the curvature of your neck. At its base was a silky black ribbon knotted in a neat bow. Other than being pretty, you didn’t appear to stand out. 

Taeyong hummed, satisfied the bar his boys wanted to drink at was nothing more than a dinky, uninspired establishment.

You heard another person pull out a wonky barstool, which made four people in your bar. Not bad, as you usually didn’t have customers come in until half past nine. 

You placed down a bourbon and coke to your left—a man’s voice offering you a quick thanks.

“What can I get you?” You asked, finally looking up at the last man.

“Whatever’s good.”

Your eyes widened, blinking repeatedly, willing the ghost of your past to disappear back to your nightmares.

This can’t be real. This can’t be him. Please. No.

But he didn’t. He sat in front of you. His bored expression faded as he caught you staring. You immediately dropped your face, your face burning.

Taeyong furrowed his brows, confused. The way you looked at him just then… It was as if you knew him. He wasn’t mistaken. He couldn’t be. The way you were mumbling your answers, your arms shaking as you reached to pour a shot of vodka.

You did the best you could to keep a low profile, keeping your face down, and distracting yourself with work around the bar. You wanted nothing more than to abandon your shift— your heart furiously pounding every time you heard one of their four voices address you. However, at around eleven there was an unusual influx of people (what you believed to be a bachelor’s night out), therefore you needed to power through your discomfort. 

You wavered for your manager to join you downstairs, while you stepped out of the bar and started clearing tables. 

Taeyong kept you in the corner of his eye, unable to shake the curiosity that brewed in his stomach.

“Give us a smile, love,” Slurred one of the drunken bachelors, who had stripped off his shoes and was now wearing one on his head. 

You complied, in order not to make a scene. You reached over his table to pick up one of the empty pints. You felt the irksome feeling of fingers brushing against your neck. You jumped back, dropping your tray. Your hands immediately shot to your neck, clasping where your black ribbon ought to be. 

The shattering of glass made Taeyong stand, interrupting Renjun mid-sentence. Your eyes were aflame with anger, your mouth parting in horror. You were trying desperately to conceal the base of your neck.

Without a second thought, Taeyong approached, pulling the drunken patron up by his wrinkled collar. The man began sloppily flailing, trying to make his pathetic getaway. 

Taeyong snatched the black ribbon out of his hand, before not so gently throwing him to the ground.

“I believe this belongs to you.” Taeyong stepped forward, extending his arm in your direction. 

You instinctively stepped back, your eyes narrowing on the black ribbon between his fingers. There was no way for you to reach for your ribbon without exposing your neck.

“You keep it.” You said as firmly as you could, turning your back to him.

He watched as you retreated to one of the back rooms, his interest in you only spiking.

You hid yourself in one of the alcohol storerooms, searching for something to cover up your neck. You resorted to some paper towels stained with raspberry syrup. It wasn’t one of your greatest ideas, but it seemed to work when your manager came bursting in.

“Where’d you go?” Your manager pressed, “You left broken glass for me to clean up by table fourteen.” 

"It accidently lock myself in the storage rooms again.” You lied.

Your manager sighed, ushering you out.

You did a quick scan of the bar, noticing the four men had since left. 

“What happened to you?” Your manager pointed to the paper towels and raspberry syrup. 

“Ah,” You pressed the wet paper harder against your neck, “A customer spilled a drink all over me.” 

Your manager shook his head, “Go home and clean up,” He signaled you to grab your things, “I’ll close up,”

Scattered, you thanked him and reached for your rucksack.

“Wait,” Your manager handed you an envelope, “Some guy left you a tip.” 

Who gives a tip in an envelope? You eyed it cautiously. 

You waited until you had turned a corner before you used your fingernail to pry apart the sealed envelope.

Inside was a one-hundred-dollar bill, your black ribbon, and a napkin that read 'Thanks for your service’. 

Taeyong kept his distance, hiding in the shadows. He watched you leave the bar, with your hand holding some paper towels to your neck. You use the other hand to tear open the envelope he’d left for you.

To his surprise, you barely acknowledged the bill—you were more interested in the black ribbon and the napkin. You stared at the napkin for a couple of minutes, your teeth grinding. You then scrunched it into a ball, throwing it onto the sidewalk with the envelope containing the hundred. You, however, kept the black ribbon.

Taeyong observed you as you slowly pulled the paper towels away, revealing a dark scar that wrapped around your neck... It was as if someone had strangled you with barbed wire. 

A flood of emotions went through him, sympathy, guilt, and finally, coldness. He couldn’t help but remember a young girl who had experienced a similar fate.

You had died many years ago. Or at least he thought so…

NETWORKS: -​

MONI’S NOTE: Woah! I cannot express how excited I am to dive back into this world. For those who don't know, this is an old fic of mine that I wrote like 5 years?! ago. I've decided to rework it and improve the story (also finally give it an ending). I would much appreciate your thoughts, comments, reblogs and likes are extremely valued.

TAGLIST: Let me know if you'd like to be added to this taglist!

© softsan - all rights reserved. please do not repost on any social media sites, translate, or modify any of my works.

[daydreamingyuta]

Dates with NCT

summary: fluff, nct ot20, cute little dates that the members of nct would take you on.

Taeyong: Strawberry Picking Date

Taeyong would take you strawberry picking at a local strawberry field! He came up with the idea during the winter time, so you both had to wait until May for it to be strawberry picking season. The wait almost made it more fun though, because you both were ten times more excited.  “These are the biggest strawberries I’ve ever seen!” Taeyong says, his boba eyes wide in amazement.  You nod your head in agreement, admiring the most juiciest and perfect looking strawberries. “We need to make a strawberry shortcake when we get home.” “And strawberry milk!!” He says, as he picks some more and puts them into his wicker basket.  As much as you loved the strawberries, you found yourself watching Taeyong during the majority of the date. He’s just such a cutie whenever he tries new things. You always adored how he seemed to experience things like a child would, in pure amazement and wonder. You catch him off guard a little, when you crouch down next to him and plant a kiss on his cheek. He makes a cute face at you in response and you both go back to picking out the best strawberries.

Taeil: Cooking at Home Date

Taeil would want to mix things up from your usual dates, and cook for you! Taeil is a really good cook, so you were very excited for what he was going to make you. He chooses to make you pizza from scratch which he has never done before.  “Just sit back and relax honey, I'll make everything.” Taeil says after you ask him if he needs any help. You’re sitting at the kitchen table, he’s already made the dough, so you're watching him try and toss it up in the air. The first few times was a total fail, but it puts on a good show for you, at least.  Once he’s done, the kitchen is such a mess. You never knew cooking could be this messy. When you actually do try the pizza though, it’s genuinely one of the best pizzas you’ve ever had. Taeil sits back, with a proud look on his face, once he sees that you love it. “You didn’t even follow the directions, I don’t know how this turned out so good.” You tell him in amazement.  “I’m glad you like it, baby.” He says, as he stands up and gives you a sweet kiss. 

Johnny: Concert Date

Johnny knows that you’ve been wanting to see your favorite artist for the longest time, but their shows always end up getting completely sold out. So, when he saw that they were going to be on tour, he made sure to get you tickets. He didn’t tell you about his plans, just in case he couldn’t end up getting them, but luckily he got them and planned to surprise you. “Johnnyy, I’m so sad I couldn’t get tickets. They went on sale when I was in a meeting.” You say, hiding your face into Johnny’s chest.  He pats your back to console you, but when you look up at him, you see a smile on his face. “Why are you smiling? It’s not funny.” You pout.  He crouches down so that you’re face to face. “It’s funny because I’m the most amazing boyfriend in the world, and I got my sweet baby tickets to go see her favorite artist.” To say that you freaked out would be an understatement. You’ve been waiting to go see them for so long and that the fact that you finally were, didn’t seem like real life.  ⸻ If you had to describe the concert, you would say it was a dream come true. Not only did Johnny get you amazing seats, but he surprised you again by learning some of their songs so that he could sing along with you.  Although Johnny did enjoy the concert, his attention was mainly on you the whole date. He watched you, like a proud boyfriend. Seeing you so happy filled his heart with so much joy. During the slower songs, he made sure to put his arm around you and give you sweet kisses on your temple, as you both swayed to the music. 

Yuta: Nail Salon Date

Yuta would take you out to go get both of your nails done! Ever since he went with Johnny to go get his nails painted, he’s loved to get them done. So what better way to spend time with you, than going to get them done together! He would get his usual black gel nails, and he would help you choose which ones you want to get.  “Ohh, this one would look really pretty on you!” Yuta says, pointing at a set you had saved on your pinterest board. “I’ve always liked those a lot, but is it doing too much?” “No! Absolutely not, if you don’t get them, I will.” Yuta assures you, earning a big smile from you.  You both enjoy every second that you're at the nail salon together. Getting your nails done always made you feel more ‘put together’ which you loved. Plus every time you got a new set, Yuta always held your hand to analyze every detail of them, which you always thought was so cute. 

Kun: Movie Theater Date

When Kun told you that he was going to take you out today to go see a movie, he didn’t tell you what movie you two were going to go see. You even tried to guess what movie he was taking you to see, but all of your guesses were wrong, which left you confused but excited. You two walked into the movie theater and you turned to Kun to see what seats he had bought.  “Sit anywhere you like.” Kun says, with the cutest smile on his face. “We can’t, we have to sit where you bought the ticket.”  “I didn’t buy a ticket. I rented out the whole room.”  You turn to take a look around and he was right, the theater was completely empty which would have been impossible for the weekend. You pick out your seat, which takes a few tries, but you eventually get your perfect seat. You try to question Kun some more about what movie is about to play, but you don’t get an answer until it starts.  When you finally do figure it out, you couldn’t be more surprised. He had gotten the theater to play your favorite movie from childhood.  “Kun!! I can’t believe we’re watching this right now.” You say, grabbing his hand. “You always talk about how you wish you could see it in the theater like you did when you were a kid, so of course, I had to.”

Doyoung: Cooking Together Date

Doyoung had cooked for you numerous times, both before and after you started dating. You loved when he cooked for you so much, so when he suggested a date where you both cooked something together, you couldn’t have been more excited. When you walked into his apartment, you saw that he had lit some candles and was playing soft music in the background. The ambiance made you even more ecstatic. “What are we making today?” You say, as Doyoung takes your coat off and hangs it up. “White wine butter bucatini.” Your mouth waters as he says this. He’s made this dish for you once before and it was amazing.  Doyoung starts by boiling the pasta, while you mince the garlic. Every once in a while Doyoung made sure to come over to you and give his girl a sweet kiss. As you start to combine all the ingredients, his whole apartment is filled with the aroma. The slight pop of Doyoung opening the wine makes you jump, because of the serene environment.  Once the pasta is done, you two enjoy what you created together, getting lost in conversation. Before you know it, all the pasta is gone.  “We need to make this again!”  “Yes, and there’s a million other recipes I want to teach you how to make.”  “I would love that, Doyoung.” 

Ten: Painting Date

A few weeks ago while you two were getting ice cream, Ten saw a couple painting together at the park. He thought that it was such a cute idea, so he went out and got all the supplies the next day.  At first you were unsure about painting, because you were worried about it not turning out good, but Ten assured you that it was going to look amazing to him because you were the one making it.  He took you to the park that had the prettiest view of a pond. He brought a picnic blanket, some snacks, and all the painting supplies. You two set everything up, and you had to take a picture afterwards because it looked so cute. “I have an idea.” Ten says. “I was thinking we could both paint something for each other!” You loved that idea so you both got started painting right away. You both decided not to let each other see the painting until you were done, so that you could see each others reactions at the finished product.  “I can’t believe I forgot how much fun this is! It kind of makes me feel like a kid again.” You say, as you do the finishing touches. You end up finishing first and you see that the sun is starting to set. You look over at Ten and he’s glowing under the pink sky. He’s too lost in his own painting to notice you taking pictures of him, and the sky.  “Done!” Ten announces to you. “We should reveal our paintings to each other at the same time.” You both hold your paintings as Ten counts down from five. You turn you paintings around at the same time, and to say that you loved Ten’s painting would be an understatement. He had painted the teddy bear that he won for you from the claw machines on your first date together. “Ten! This is the cutest painting ever, I love it so much.” You say, as he hands it to you. You had also chosen something a bit sentimental to paint for your boyfriend. You had painted a close up shot of his hands playing the piano. When you two first started dating, he had been kinda shy about his piano playing, so when he finally did play something for you, it signified a new level of trust in your relationship. You knew he loved it by the way he kept smiling at it.  “I’m definitely hanging this up. I love it so much, baby.” 

Jaehyun: Yacht Date

When Jaehyun told you he was going to take you out on a yacht tonight you thought that he was joking, but of course, he wasn’t. “Wait, what do I even wear on a yacht?” You ask, searching for an outfit in your closet.  “ Wear that little black dress, you know how much I love it.”  You knew it was going to be a good date if he told you to wear his favorite dress of yours. You felt your excitement grow as you got ready. You know that he’s a sucker for a red lip too, so you made sure to put some on.  You had been on boats before, but nothing like this one. It had multiple decks with a kitchen, bedroom, reading room, and a giant hot tub.  “This is the boat?” You asked Jaehyun, surprised.  “Yacht.” He replied, as he held your hand to help you onto the yacht.  The captain came to greet you both to tell you how long the ride will be and to enjoy your evening together. There were other people on the boat, which you assumed to be other passengers, but were actually the rest of the staff.  “Did you rent the whole thing just for the two of us?” “Of course I did, baby.” He says, as he gives you a wink.  You had very few weaknesses in life, but Jaehyun treating you like a princess was one of them. You melted at his sweet gesture, and took a moment to process that your boyfriend would do all this for you.  The first thing you did was have dinner on the lower deck. There was a piano and violin player that set the tone for a romantic evening. The whole night Jaehyun was looking at you like you’re the most gorgeous person on earth, which of course, to him that’s exactly what you are.  After dessert, Jaehyun took you to the upper deck where you heard music playing. “Jae! It’s our song.”  “Is it?” He says, with a knowing smile because he planned this whole thing out.  Outside on the upper deck had the best view of the water, that looked so pretty under the setting sun. As you’re looking out at the waves, you feel Jaehyun's arms wrap around you from behind. He places sweet kisses on your cheek and down to your neck. “Will you dance with me, baby?” He whispers in your ear. You nod your head in agreement, as you take his hand. You two sway to the song, the same song that you danced to together hundreds of times throughout your relationship.  “I hope we’re still dancing to this song when we grow old together.” Jaehyun says, as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. 

Winwin: Fancy Dinner Date

You loved being treated by your boyfriend every once in a while, so every time Winwin took you out on a fancy dinner date, you were always so excited. This time, it’s a new restaurant that neither of you have been to, but looks amazing.  You both get dressed up in your best outfits. Whenever Winwin gets dressed up, you can never stop yourself from looking at how handsome he is. This always makes him a bit shy, but you knew he loved it when you couldn’t take your eye off him.  Once you got to the restaurant, there was a small line in the lobby, but Winwin made a reservation,so you two were seated right away. As you two look over the menu, Winwin grabs your hand to hold. He always does this at every restaurant, and your heart melts at the gesture every time. He rubs his thumb up and down on the back of your hand, while he concentrates on the menu. He looks up at you with an innocent smile once he decides on what to eat, like he doesn’t know the effect even the smallest touch from him has on you.  The food comes soon after you both order it and you are not disappointed. Everything tastes just as amazing as it looks. You are in the middle of eating when you notice Winwin is looking at you.  “What?” You ask him. “I love you y/n. I always feel like the luckiest guy in the world whenever I’m with you.”

Jungwoo: Flower Picking Date

Wanting to go to a flower field one day was something you mentioned in passing to Jungwoo. Ever since then, he had made it his mission to find the prettiest flower field so that he can take you. The flower fields nearest to you were pretty, but the one a little farther away was gorgeous. So, Jungwoo thought to make a day out of going and have it be a date! Jungwoo decided that it would be a nice surprise date, so he didn’t tell you where you were going. You really had no clue as to what he was up to, because he had never indicated that he wanted to take you to a flower field.  When you finally got there, it took your brain a minute to register that Jungwoo had really taken you here. “Jungwoo, this is even prettier than the pictures I’ve seen!” You say, giving him a hug before he’s even gotten the chance to park the car yet.  The flower field was filled with all different types of wildflowers. It went on farther than you could see and you just had to take a moment to really soak in the beauty of it all.  Jungwoo walks you down a little bit where there's a pathway that goes down the middle of the field. At first, you walk hand in hand together down the path. Then, you start to pick out the flowers you really like to make a little bouquet for. It’s hard to pick because they’re all so beautiful, but you end up picking out some yellow, pink, and purple wildflowers.  Jungwoo seems to be busy picking out some flowers too, but when you look closer, he’s only picking out one flower. When he seems to find the perfect one, he plucks it out of the ground but then hides it behind his back so you don’t see.  He walks up to you with that pretty smile of his. “I got something for you.” He says, as he shows you a cute little orange wildflower. He twirls it in between his fingers before he pushes back your hair and lets it sit behind your ear. “So pretty.” He makes a gesture like he also wants a flower behind his ear, so you pick out your prettiest one and do the same for him. 

Mark: Watching the Sunset Date

You couldn’t count the amount of times you and Mark had dates where you watched the sunset together. It was one of his favorite times of day and he loved spending that time with his girl.  Mark had access to the roof from his apartment, which was the perfect place to watch the sun go down. Even before the sun sets, the clouds in the blue sky are always so pretty to look at. “I just love how every sunset is different, but each and every one is so unbelievably beautiful.” Mark says, as you both are laying down on a blanket, shoulder to shoulder.  You look over at him with a smile on your face. You loved his love for the sky so much. You loved that he could find such beauty in the everyday things that most people take for granted.  The sun sets gradually over time, turning the whole sky pink. You start to take some pictures of it, a habit that you had gotten from Mark. You feel Mark press a sweet kiss on your cheek and when you look over at him, he gives you another kiss.  “I love you, y/n.” He whispers to you. “I love you too, Mark.” You whisper back to him.

Xiaojun: Ice Cream Date 

Late night ice cream runs with Xioajun were your favorite. It’s always very spontaneous, you and Xiaojun usually have a night together at his apartment, when one of you gets a craving for the sweet dessert. There’s a Ben and Jerry’s not too far away, so you always end up going there.  Xiaojun always orders for the both of you, after you’ve told him what you want. You stand behind him, as you watch the worker scoop out the ice cream and into a cup. You always go back to his car to eat because you love the cozy atmosphere of the night sky and the soft music playing from the car radio.  You two switch back and forth between each other's ice creams, ‘arguing’ about which one is better. Usually yours ends up being the better one which leads to Xiaojun saying that he’ll let you pick his flavor next time, even though he never does.  “Next time I really will let you pick mine, yours is always better.” You roll your eyes at him because you know it’s not the truth. “Don’t roll your eyes, I’m serious!” He tries to convince you.  “I’ll believe when I see it, baby.”  “Fine, we are going on another ice cream date tomorrow.”  (He did not get the flavor you suggested the next day.)

Hendery: Home Movie Night Date 

When Hendery told you that he had planned for a movie date at his apartment with you, you thought it was going to be like every other movie date you’ve had together. Which is why you were shocked when you got to his place and he had completely decorated his living room! He put out blankets, snacks, and lit some candles making everything look so cozy and perfect for a movie night.  “Do you like it?” He asks, with a proud smile on his face.  “Of course I do baby, this is so sweet!” You say as you wrap your arms around his waist and look up at him. “You’re so cute, Hendery.”  He gives you a kiss before he walks over to five pieces of folded up paper that you hadn’t noticed was sitting on the coffee table.  “What’s that for?” You ask him.  “I wrote down five movies that we’ve both been wanting to watch and then you’re going to choose one at random and we’ll watch it!” He says, clearly very excited by his plan. “Just pick the one that’s calling to you.” You take a moment to consider your options before you settle on the third piece of paper as the ‘right’ one. You unfold the paper and immediately you’re so much more excited. “Kiki’s Delivery Service! I love that movie, I can’t believe you even put it in here.” Hendry gives you a big smile. “You always talk about it so I wanted to watch it with you.” He walks over to the blankets and picks one up. “Where do you want to sit?” You decide to sit down on the floor with your back against the sofa. Hendery sits next to you and covers you both with the blanket. He starts the movie as you both snack on all the food he bought.  About halfway through the movie, you stop eating and get more comfortable on the couch together. Hendery lays on his back while you lay on top of him with your head resting on his chest. You both know it’s a dangerous position to be in because it’s so cozy and it always ends up with you both falling asleep.  Surprisingly though, neither of you did fall asleep until the end of the movie. Hendery seemed to be really enjoying Kiki’s Delivery Service a lot which made your heart swell because of your love for the movie. 

Renjun: Grocery Store Date 

With Renjun, everything was a date, as long as you two were hanging out together. One of his favorite dates to go on with you was to the grocery store. Most of the time neither of you really needed anything, but just wanted to go roam the aisles, picking up whatever looks good so that you could try it when you got back to his place.  He always took you to the same grocery store. A local one, that hasn’t changed since you both were children, causing you to get hit with a wave of nostalgia every time you come.  As much as you enjoyed doing this with Renjun, you have always wondered why he gets so excited for your grocery store dates. You two are walking down aisle four, when you decide to ask him about it. You slightly bump your shoulder against his to make him look at you. “Why do you like taking me here so much?”  He takes a moment to consider your question. “It just makes me happy. Doing the everyday things with you. Knowing that, even when we’re old, we’ll still be making trips like this to the grocery store together.” He explains, as he links his fingers into yours.  “Renjun, that’s so sweet. And you’d be such a cute grandpa.” You say, giving his hand a squeeze. He nods in agreement, causing you to laugh. He lets go of your hand when he sees a brand new flavor of chips he hasn’t tried yet. “We have to get these.” He says, giving you puppy dog eyes as if you would dare tell him no. 

Jeno: Picnic Date

Jeno got the idea to plan out a picnic date a week ago. You were laying in between his legs on the couch, when he caught a glimpse of your phone out of the corner of his eye. You were scrolling through Pinterest when you stopped on a picture of a couple having a picnic.  Jeno thought that a picnic sounded like such a cute idea, so he started to plan everything out right then and there. He even made himself a pinterest account so that he could get more ideas.  He decided that the park would be the perfect place. He bought a blanket, a cute little basket to put all the food in, and some flowers for you. He wanted it to be a little bit of a surprise, so he told you about it the day of when you two went to go get food for the picnic.  Once you got to the park, Jeno already had the perfect spot in mind. It was only a short walk until you got to said spot. It was right under a big tree so it had the perfect amount of shade. You two set up the blanket and got out all of the food.   “The weather is literally perfect for a picnic.” You say as you pop a green grape into your mouth.  You feel Jeno plant a kiss on your cheek. “You’re perfect.” You scrunch your nose at him for being cheesy which causes him to give you more kisses.  While you two were distracting one another, you almost didn’t notice a little kid sneaking up to your picnic. She was stealing a strawberry when you noticed her. You made eye contact with her and she ran off with the fruit.  You and Jeno burst out laughing. You would have let her have more if she didn’t run away. “No more distracting me angel, I’ve got to protect our food.”  “You were the one all over me!” You say, giving him a soft punch on his arm. 

Haechan: Selfcare Night Date

All week long, Haechan has been asking you about your self-care routine. So far, you’ve told him about your favorite sheet masks, tea, and the recipe for your favorite cookies. You had just assumed that he was going to have his own self-care day, and willfully answered all his questions.  You were surprised when he told you that you two were going to have a selfcare night date. As soon as you came over you, noticed the sheet masks on display, all the ingredients out to make cookies, and some candles that were lit. The amount of thought and effort he put into this date, melted your heart. As instructed, you came wearing your pajamas. Haechan, of course, did the same.  “What do you want to do first?” Haechan asks you. “I usually start off my selfcare nights with skincare.”  “Perfect, I’ve bought all the types of sheet masks you told me you liked so which one should we do?”  “Hmm, this one.” You say pointing to your favorite.  You two go into his bathroom and Haechan helps you put your hair up into a bun. He has to re-do it at least three times, but he’s so gentle with your hair and it feels so nice. Once he also puts his hair up, you both put on the mask. “I think we should make some tea now.” Haechan was already one step ahead of you, he had already put the kettle to boil right before you got to his place. So once you were both in the kitchen, it wasn’t long until it was ready to be poured over your tea bags.  “What should we do now?” Haechan asks you as you finish pouring his drink. “We relax.” You respond. You and Haechan both head over to his room where you decide that the most comfiest spot would be in his bed. You two stay there for a while, on your phones and drinking your tea, until you decided that it was probably time to take off the masks.  “Do you feel refreshed?” Haechan asks you, giving you a little kiss.  “Absolutely and now, we need to make those cookies.” You say, kissing him back.

Jaemin: Game Night Date

Game night dates with Jaemin were a regular thing between you two. You loved these nights with him even though he always messed with you. Jaemin would either cheat to win every single game, or he would let you win. You didn’t know which was worse, but your reactions were the only reason why he continued to play like this. He just can’t get enough of you when you’re semi-frustrated.  “Jaemin, there is physically no way you're not cheating right now. How have you won four games in a row?” You say, throwing down the uno cards. Jaemin looks at you with his hand on his heart, appalled that you would even suggest something like that during game night. “Is this really what you think of me, angel?” “Don’t call me sweet names to make me forget what you’re doing.” “Sweetheart.” He says, as he fake pouts.  “I’m not playing with you anymore.” You say, knowing that this is exactly what he wants you to do. He smiles at you as he comes to sit next to you. He stares at you, until you're both smiling goofily at each other. “You’re so annoying.” “You love when I’m annoying.” He says, as he apologizes by giving you a million little kisses.

Yangyang: Cooking Class Date

When Yangyang first mentioned that he wanted to go to a couples cooking class with you, you were hesitant at first. He kept on insisting though, so that’s exactly what you found yourself doing today.  The class was teaching you how to make pasta from scratch, which you were honestly really excited to learn how to do. The instructor was the cutest old lady, who seemed to have the strongest passion for cooking.  “...and then mix the flour into the eggs gently.” She says, as she walks along the room watching everyone's progress. She immediately stopped Yangyang because he wasn’t doing it softly enough, and showed him how to do it. “This is so much fun.” He whispers to you, and you can see it in his face that he means it.  You two don't make any mistakes until you get to the sauce making portion. Yangyang forgot to add oil to the pan, so the sauce started to burn.  “What do we do?” He says, in a bit of a panic.  “I don’t know, it’s burning.”  The instructor comes over and sees the predicament. She took the pan away and gave you guys a new one, along with some more ingredients to restart on your sauce. This time, you both make sure to do everything correctly. When the pasta was all done, all the couples in the class fed each other a bite. You and Yangyang both laughed as you did this, but it was actually really cute. You weren’t sure where he heard about this couple's cooking class but you were glad he did. You give him a quick kiss on the cheek, which he wasn't expecting and you saw a faint hint of blush appear.

Chenle: Bookstore Date

Chenle knew your love for reading, so he thought that it would be fun to take you out on a bookstore date. You couldn’t hold in your excitement when he told you this. Going to the bookstore just held such a special place in your heart, and you can’t help but feel a little giddy every time you get the chance to go. You both bring your favorite tote bags so that you can carry all the books you buy. Like always, you immediately get overwhelmed by all the books so you decide to take it section by section. You and Chenle walk down the book aisles hand in hand, taking your time and just enjoying being with each other.  When you settled on all the books you wanted to get, and even helped Chenle pick out some books, you both went to go sit at the cafe inside the bookstore. You both orders some coffee and pastries, which were amazing.  You were reading the first chapter of one of your new books when you noticed Chenle staring at you. “What?” you say, smiling at him.  “You’re so pretty.” He says, and then takes another sip of his coffee.  You bring your book up to your face to hide your smile. Chenle always knew how to make you feel special, and you loved that so much about him.

Jisung: Aquarium Date

You had mentioned to Jisung that you hadn’t been to the aquarium since you were a kid, which prompted him to immediately take you out on a date to the aquarium. You didn’t think that you were going to be as impressed with the aquarium as you were when you were a kid, but you were so wrong. The whole place was amazing and so breathtaking. You caught a glimpse of Jisung and his proud smile because it was a rare sight to see you in awe. Everything was just so pretty.  You and Jisung walked hand and hand through the aquarium, making sure to take pictures of everything so you had the memory of this date forever.  “Aw! Look Jisung, that fish looks just like you.”  He just stares at it and then at you. “That one looks just like me?” You nod your head yes while trying to get him next to the fish to take a picture of the both of them. “I look nothing like it, it’s ugly.” “It’s cutee I don’t know why you’re calling it ugly. That’s very rude.” He rolls his eyes at you and starts to walk ahead of you but stops and holds his hand out for you to take. You gladly take it and give him a quick kiss to apologize for calling him an ugly fish, even though you thought it was adorable. 

[rosietaeyongswife]

shameless | kim doyoung

AU: angst, fluff, drama, cheating au, readerxtaeyongxdoyoung SYNOPSIS: Marriage was supposed to be your dream. You were in love with Taeyong, until you came to realization that maybe he's not the one. Thankfuly, his best friends was there for you when you needed him the most. WC: 8k TW: cursing, cheating, mentions of sex AU: i do not support any kind of cheating. never. it's a pure fiction. yall i think i've improved my english lol one day i'll fix all my works because lmao yeah enjoy this pls:P

Marriage. How foolish of you to think it's going to be a dream come true. Well, everyone else stated that fact. According to them, marriage is one of the best stages of life. You've reached a certain point in life - perhaps an achievement. Too bad none of them said how much of a burden it can be.

Of course, the first few months were perfect. Dates, flowers, and affection. Isn't this what every woman craves? Kisses, gifts, and affirmations from your loved one. Those things blinded you. Only if you knew back then. Maybe then you would've left. It was your choice to ignore all the red flags. It's been a year, and it's a nightmare.

"Baby, can you do laundry?" You were running late, yet Taeyong does nothing. He could help you, at least. "I have to leave already. I showed you the other day how to do it. Will you do it for me, please?"

Taeyong was playing Call of Duty on the PS4 you've bought for him on his 27th birthday. He was focused on the game.

"Sure. I'll do it."

Without any other word, you left. Sometimes you'd like to smash that PlayStation into pieces. Taeyong does nothing around the house besides playing that damn thing.

It was a late call meeting with your work team. You couldn't focus on the words of your co-workers due to that weird gut feeling. Something deep down felt like something would go wrong. Ignoring this wasn't helping at all.

"Y/N, we want you to manage this project with Chaeyoung. Is that alright with you?" Your boss asked while you were drifting in your thoughts. "We believe your reviews and suggestions would make this successful on the market."

"Of course, I'll handle this."

"Thank you." He looked at the watch. "Okay, it's 9 p.m. We're done for today. I'm sorry we had to hold a meeting. It was a surprise to us too. You can go all home now."

Everyone left in a hurry, and so did you. The weather got worse, and it was raining. You couldn't get cold, so you called your husband. Silence. Again silence. He didn't pick up your calls. All you could do was run and pray that a bus would arrive.

"I called."

"Sorry, baby. I was too busy with the game. Look, I ranked up."

"That's amazing, but it's pouring outside, and I had to walk there by myself." You rolled your eyes at your husband's ignorance. "I'm fuckin tired. I just want to take a shower and go to sleep. Have you done the laundry like I asked you to?"

"Yes. It wasn't that hard." He laughed and turned the PS4 off. "I'm heading to sleep. Waiting for you in the bedroom."

At least he did what you had asked for. Walking in the bathroom was hopeful for you. Little did you know how much anger it would bring you.

"Taeyong! What the fuck have you done?!" Your husband was quick to run back to you. He was looking at you confusedly. "How could you ruin my white shirt for tomorrow? Why would you put red socks together with white laundry?"

"My bad. I'm sorry, honey." He looked at you with his doe eyes. "I didn't notice, sorry once again. I'll give you money to buy a new one."

"Sorry? You're sorry?" You scoffed. "I needed that shirt for work tomorrow. It's past 10p.m, what am I supposed to do? I asked you for one thing, and you managed to fuck it up."

"It's just a shirt, Y/N. You're overreacting. You can buy another one."

"It's not just about the shirt, Taeyong. You don't understand." You went next to him. "I don't have any clothes for work. Fuck."

Taeyong apologized once again and went back to the bed. He didn't really care about the fact that he ruined your shirt and left you alone past 10 pm, looking for clothes for work. He difted away to sleep while you had to hold your anger in yourself and calm down.

Your husband and you both work for the same company. You work in different departments and both of you start work at different hours. Taeyong got up and left an hour before you. As usual, you woke up to dirty dishes on the table and a cup of coffee on the counter. He didn't respect the fact that it was you who was cleaning the whole apartment.

"Look there. I guess you could've described another problem here, and we would put it together." Chaeyoung was taking notes on your words. "Do it, then send me the rest of the thing. I'll try to finish it by Friday."

"Thank you, and of course, I'm doing it."

Mark Lee was sipping on his coffee when he approached you. He was your best friend and best colleague from the company. Both of you go along pretty well.

"Someone's not in the mood today, huh?"

"Mark, please." You stopped on your way. "Don't get on my nerves today. It's not funny at all."

"Sorry, Miss Not in the Mood." He chuckled. "You slept on the wrong side, or what?"

"I slept on the right side."

"Then what happened?"

"Taeyong happened." Mentioning of your husband made your head hurt. "I asked him for one simple thing. Do laundry. That's all! Guess what." Mark was waiting for you to finally tell you the tea. "He ruined my shirt for today. I was tired, hungry, and annoyed, and on top of that, I had to find myself clothes for today."

Mark could only laugh. He was aware of your husband and how clumsy he can be.

"How did he even do it?"

"He put red socks and underwear together with white clothes. The majority of clothes were pijamas, but still. I didn't ask for much. I explained how the washing machine works about ten times!"

"Everyone makes mistakes, but your husband is crossing the line, Y/N. I'd be mad too. Yesterday was a horrible day."

It's almost the end of the month, so everyone is worked up. Every project needs to be finished ASAP, clients are waiting and aren't patient, and on top of that, your boss is scolding you for every little mistake you've made.

"You should be thankful you don't have to deal with it."

Another day went the same way. Today was another hard day, and the only thing you wished to do was fall asleep, but it seems like you won't be able to do that.

"Honey, I missed you."

Taeyong was looking at you with lust in his eyes. Deep down, you knew what he was about.

"Not today, sorry. I had a rough day, I'm exhausted."

"C'mon. I missed you and your body so much." He began to kiss down your neck. "I want you."

Anger was boiling in your veins. It's like you're talking to a wall.

"I told you no, why don't you give up? I'm not in the mood, I had a tiring day, and you expect me to fuck?"

"Fuck, Y/N." He stopped and put his hands into his hair. "We haven't had sex in months, alright? I have my needs, I'm fuckin horny, and I want to fuck my wife. I want us to feel good, yet you're always too busy to do so."

"I fuckin told you I'm tired. You're so, so.." His gaze went upon you. "Pushy. Leave me alone."

"Great."

The last thing you've heard was a door shutting. He left, and God knows when he'll be back. Like a kid. Your husband behaves like a spoiled child. Nothing ever satisfies him, and he wants things his way. Nothing in between.

Once you've been reading about all those unhappy couples who have sex once in a while, don't talk too much, or don't even know too much about each other. They're just together because they get used to each other and are way too comfortable to let go and leave. Little did you know you were going to face the same fate.

"Fuckin hell." You rolled your eyes. Taeyong wasn't picking up your calls when it was an important matter. "Boss, can I go into the marketing department to meet my husband? It's urgent."

He didn't even look up, but he nodded. Men.

The marketing floor was only three floors higher. Of course, you've known the majority of people working there thanks to Lee Taeyong. A few employees passed and greeted you.

Johnny was sitting by his desk, probably busy with his tasks that needed to be done by today.

"Hi, Johnny." He sent you a smile. "Do you know where Taeyong is?"

"Oh, hello, Y/N. Shit. I think he might leave for a lunch break with Jaehyun and Yuta."

"He did."

The voice was familiar to you. Turning your head, you saw no one else but Kim Doyoung. Your husband's co-worker and best friend.

"Fuck. Thank you, guys."

"Something did happen?"

"I wanted to ask him to drive me to Kun's bakery. It's Jaehyun's birthday in two days, but they need me there today. I guess they couldn't find a sample?" Doyoung was looking at you with his soft eyes, while you were stressed. "Nevermind. I'll go."

"Wait." Doyoung grabbed his coat. "I'll drive you. It's no problem for me. I'm on the break anyway."

Your whole body relaxed at his words. Somehow you felt different, because Taeyong usually rejects your requests, but Doyoung? He agreed right away.

As both you and Doyoung were on your way to Kun's bakery, Taeyong called you a few times. Asshole.

"Thank you, really. You have no clue how much this matters to me. You saved my day, Doyoung."

"No worries, I mean, I'm just driving you to the bakery. It's not hard, or something."

"I fear some people wouldn't agree." Doyoung glanced at you for a second. "Nevermind. Thank you, again. I bet Taeyong doesn't even remember we booked a cake at Kun's."

Both of you laughed at your remark. Doyoung was aware of how clumsy and nonresponsible his best friend can be.

"It wouldn't be Taeyong if he didn't forget about such a thing. But hey, look at you. You're about to solve a problem with Kun and come back to work, and you didn't need Taeyong's help."

"Wow, I'm so independent now. Not like you drove me there, at all."

Kim Doyoung was a year younger than Taeyong. Both of them have known each other since high school. Then they applied to the same business school where you met Taeyong. Both of them graduated and found a job at Lee Sooman's company. Like you did. Doyoung was different than Taeyong. He was clean, tidy, and he could cook. Everyone could depend on him when needed. He never let any of your friends down. Never. If you needed help, you should've called Doyoung. He was stylish and looked like an old-money guy. None of your friends, nor you, have seen him date. He probably had a few girlfriends, but they weren't serious, as you guessed.

"Well, I can pay you for-"

"Y/N, please." He stopped you mid-sentence. "Don't pay me at all. I had a great time picking a cake with you."

"Me too, Doyoung. Again, you're wonderful."

Taeyong was looking at you through the window of his office. He was calling you for an hour, and he had no response from you. He was a bit worried, but as he saw you with Doyoung.. He was relaxed.

Mark was smiling from ear to ear. He saw you coming into the building with Doyoung from the marketing department.

"What were you doing with Kim Doyoung?" He was moving his eyebrows in a funny way. "He's cool, right?"

"I had an emergency at Kun's bakery, yet my lovely husband wasn't picking up my calls." Mark scoffed. "He gave me a ride, and yes, he's a cool guy."

"Jaehyun's birthday, right?" You nodded. "I bought him a watch, and what about you and Taeyong?"

"I don't know. I was supposed to buy a cake, Taeyong is going to buy a gift. Please, I wish he had already done that."

Jaehyun's birthday is always a party at his house. He invites a whole friend group on the weekend, and makes a dinner. Everyone is drinking and having fun together. It was supposed to be an amazing day, but only if your husband didn't ruin it the day before.

"What do you mean you forgot?" Taeyong was stressed too. He knew he was meant to do something, but he had no idea what exactly. "Taeyong, you promised me you're going to buy him a gift!"

"Fuck, I forgot! Couldn't you do it? I'm busy with work, so it wouldn't hurt, Y/N."

"Are you kidding me?" You put on your coat. "I'm also working, I'm cleaning and cooking, I ordered the cake for Jaehyun's birthday, and both of us agreed that you're going to buy a gift!"

Every favor you're asking Taeyong for, ends in the same way every, fuckin, time. You can never depend on him.

"I help you too! Don't make me look like I'm some kind of lazy jerk. I simply forgot, things happen, okay."

"And what are we going to do? Are we going to show up with a cake for his 27th birthday and say sorry, but Taeyong fucked up once again?" The sarcasm in your tone was noticeable, and your husband wasn't a fan of it. "Do you even know what he likes?" Taeyong couldn't answer as he had no thoughts. "I knew it. God."

"Where are you going? It's past 8pm, and it's freezing outside?"

"None of your business. Clean after dinner. That's the last thing I'm asking you to do."

Cold February nights like this make you wonder about your life. Lately, both you and Taeyong have been fighting. You couldn't even remember when the last time both of you exchanged "I love yous". Are your friend's marriages the same? Do they fight a lot? Do they fight every day? Do they overcome it? To you, it seems like an endless circle.

Luck was with you tonight, because the old vinyl shop was open until 9. You made it on time to buy a jazz vinyl record for Jaehyun. He was a huge fan, everyone knew it, except Taeyong.

"That's a hundred dollas, mam."

The last shop you're going to visit is one owned by Haechan's uncle, who sells prestigious wines from all around the world. It was just a few blocks away.

As you were looking for a wine thatJaehyun hasn't tried yet, you've noticed familiar sillhouete.

"Doyoung?"

"Y/N?" He turned back with a gummy smile. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"Emergency. Again."

"Mark mentioned that Taeyong was supposed to buy a gift, right?" He was visibly confused. "Then why are you here?"

"Key word 'supposed'."

For the first time ever, Doyoung felt bad for you. He always thought that you're a couple goals. Back in the day, you couldn't shut up about Taeyong. Either of you, were talking about each other, still in love. Taeyong never complained, nor did you. To be honest, every single one of your friends thinks you and Taeyong live your dream lives. Only Mark knew it was total opposite.

"I mean, maybe he was tired? Everyone works hard these days, people tend to forget things at times."

"Doyoung, please." You laughed sacristically. "I agree, but Taeyong always forgets about something. Doesn't matter if he's tired, or not."

For the time being, Doyoung had no explanation, nor could he defend his friend.

After a few minutes, Doyoung helped you pick a wine and took you home. It was another time he saved you. He was kind enough to drive you home.

"See you tomorrow, Y/N."

"See you too." As you were about to go into the building, you turned around. "Again, thank you."

Taeyong was asleep in the living room with a TV on. Typical of him. You looked over, and once again, Lee Taeyong disappointed you. The dishes were in the sink, not washed. You put the gifts down and did the dishes yourself.

Morning was a tense one. Neither of you speaks to yourself. The only thing you said was that you're going to pick up the cake by 5 pm. It was Saturday, and both you and your husband had a free day. Taeyong was probably waiting for you to make a lunch or something, but it wasn't your plan. You made yourself some waffles and ate them by yourself.

"Where's some for me?"

"Don't you have hands? Do it yourself."

He was looking at you in disbelief. Taeyong was used to you cooking and serving him food.

"Why are you bitching? I've already apologized. What else am I supposed to do?"

"I'm not bitching. I just made lunch for myself." He was getting annoyed with you. "It seems like I'm some kind of housewife to you. I'm not. Learn to do things yourself."

By 5pm, both of you were getting ready. It's been a long time since both of you went together somewhere. Taeyong stopped asking you on dates long time ago. Of course, you missed those silly dates. Your husband doesn't put effort in.

Taeyong was waiting for you in the car, while you put everything into a bag. One last look into the mirror, and you were looking pretty. In your eyes, everything seems fine.

"What are you wearing?" Taeyong almost burst laughing. "Honey, go change yourself, I don't think you look the best in such a dress."

For a moment, you felt stupid. Your own husband laughed at your look, even though you thought you looked great. A knee high, black dress and boots with a coat. Everyone was wearing that. It was a cute look.

"What do you even mean?"

"It's not made for you, I guess? I don't know, I just want to help you to not get emberrased."

"Oh, fuck you, Taeyong."

There was no time for changing, besides, you felt cute. A month ago, you would've run into the apartment to change but not today. You tried to ingore peaks Taeyong took. He hurt you. You thought you could ignore it, but as soon as you arrived, your self esteem was six fit under.

"Hey guys! Wow, Y/N, you look stuning!" Jaehyun welcomed you with a kiss on the cheek. "Suit yourselfs."

Jaehyun complimented you, but inside of your head there were Taeyong's words.

In the living room, everyone was waiting until Haechan would arrive with his fiance, Jimin. Johnny was sipping on a coffee with Sooyoung. Taeil was taking photos with his wife, Joohyun. Yuta, Jungwoo and Jaehyun were making food. Mark was laughing with his girlfriend, Soyeon. Doyoung was looking at you and Taeyong, when both of you arrived. Doyoung couldn't stop himself from looking at you. This dress complimented your body and your bueaty the best.

"Everyone let's drink. It's our Jaehyun's birthday." Johnny stood up with a glass of champagne in his left hand. "I can't believe you're already 27. We're all happy to be here and celebrate with you, dude."

The party was going great, everyone had fun, and none of the guests seem to be annoyed, or not having fun. Taeyong found himself sitting with Yuta playing games and drinking beer.

"Men are like children." Joohyun sat down next to you on the coach. "I can't believe they're almost in their 30s."

"Don't tell me that. Look at them, they're playing on the PlayStation as if they were teenage boys."

"At least we can have some time to ourselfes."

Joohyun was right. She was with Taeil since freshman year of the college. She was three years older than Moon Taeil and she was one of your closest female friends. Everyone looks up to her, since she was the oldest one in the friend group.

"Can I ask you something?" Joohyun looked at you waiting for your question. "Do you fight with Taeil often?"

"Hell yes! We fought in the morning because he didn't clean the bathroom like I asked him to."

"Did he do it after you had scolded him?"

"Of course. What kind of question is that?" She laughed at you, but you were dead serious. "Wait. Doesn't Taeyong do the same? You know, if you scold a man, then he's kind of irritated, but do it anyway out of respect for you."

"He doesn't. You see, I asked him to do something. I show him how to do things properly, so he won't have to need my help. I explain it like I'm speaking to a child. I do it about ten times per chore." You giggled at yourself. "Guess what. He doesn't do it. No matter how much I ask for, he either forgets, or doesn't do it at all."

Joohyun, for the first time ever since she has met you, felt bad for you. For the first time ever, Taeyong doubted her.

"I have no idea what to say, Y/N. It's not supposed to be like that. You're a duo after all."

"I don't think we're a duo, Joohyun."

For the rest of the night, Taeyong didn't give you attention, which you were thankful for. He got on your nerves enough. He was hanging out with his homeboys, enjoying himself, not worrying about you. In his mind, both of you have a perfect life. You are happy together, and you're madly in love. Maybe love is starting to be a too strong word for your feelings towards that man.

"Are you fine, Y/N?"

Doyoung smiled at you when you were sipping on a lemonade made by Johnny and Mark.

"I'm just tired after work and all this shit. And you? Are you fine?"

"It could be worse." He chuckled. "I see Taeyong isn't with you."

"Thank God. He's busy playing games."

"Still. I haven't seen you talking yet."

"We had a small fight before."

A reminder of that situation from before made you self conscious again. Your husband's words aren't supposed to make you feel the way they do.

"Was it serious or?"

"Not really. It was about my outfit, so nothing extreme."

"What do you mean by your outfit? You look stunning, I swear to God."

"Doyoung, can you be honest with him? We've known each other for almost ten years. We're friends." The man was busy thinking about what might come next out of your mouth. "Do I look bad? Be honest. Do I look worse than before? I don't know, am I not taking care of myself?"

It was a question directed at Doyoung because he was a person from a friend group that you've known for the longest. Actually, it was Doyoung who introduced you and Taeyong to each other. He knew him from high school, and he met you during the same classes at the business school. Kim Doyoung was a lovely nerd. Interested in Star Wars, books, and business. He used to collect plushies, he even gave you some of them. You always have wondered how Doyoung's world crushed with Taeyong's. Lee Taeyong was a popular jerk, interested in tattoos, rock, and trouble. For quite some time, you had a small crush on Doyoung. But then, you met Taeyong, and you fell head over heels over him.

"I don't see the point of this question. Isn't it obvious? Many guys from the department have a crush on you. I saw multiple strangers turn their necks when you passed by. You've always been pretty, Y/N."

"Now I feel better. Thank you, Doyie."

He was looking at you, once again, with his soft eyes. Sometimes, he wonders why you work him up so much.

"No problem. Remember, you're that girl. Don't let anyone say otherwise."

As you were about to respond, Taeyong showed up. He was drunk, and he could barely stand on his legs.

"Did you just call my wife pretty?"

"I did. We're friends, though. It's not that deep, Taeyong."

"I don't know, maybe you want to do something with her?" He was approaching you and Doyoung. Embarrassment fed your whole body as he got closer. "I don't like the way you talk to her."

"What's your fuckin problem, dude? I complimented her, since no one else bothers to do so. Like her husband, for example. Get it together, man."

You wish you could be gone for a second. Taeyong was drunk, and he had no clue what was going on.

"Shut the fuck up, Doyoung. You don't know shit."

"Calm down. You're wasted as fuck."

Everything that came after is now the past. The next thing you knew was Taeyong punching Doyoung straight into his nose. Blood was dripping on his shirt, and guys tried to grab him. You were shocked, and all you could do was scream at your husband. He was never that aggressive towards someone.

Jaehyun and Yuta were holding Taeyong, while Johnny and Haechan held Doyoung. Both males were calling each other names, while you wanted to disappear. Everyone was stunned. They had no idea such a storm was coming tonight. Best friends fighting over nothing.

"I'm leaving."

You got up, took your purse and coat, and left. Sooyoung called after you, but you were done for tonight. There was nothing you could do with your stupid husband. Leaving seemed like a good option.

"Get in." After a five-minute walk, a black Mercedes parked by your side. It wasn't your husband, though. "I won't let you go alone on a cold, dark night. Get in."

"You don't have to, Doyoung. I really -"

"I won't repeat myself."

Even after such a fucked up night, Doyoung had to be the one to take you home, not your husband. Does he even love you?

A week passed by, and nothing has changed. Both you and Taeyong would only see each other in the morning. Not even a simple "Hi" was exchanged. He was too embarrassed after what happened at Jaehyun's birthday.

"Y/N, we would love to move you a bit higher." Lee Sooman, your boss spoke to you. "We found your results to be the best out of the whole company. I want to promote you to a higher position and move you to the International Marketing department. Are you in?"

It was the day that would change your life the most. Working schedule was tighter, and you had to spend more hours weekly in the company. Chaeyoung was moved into the marketing department, so she was working with Taeyong. Everyone in the new floor was a stranger to you. These days, it's hard to find friends. Especially from work. Mark would always pass by your floor to say hello, though.

"Can I talk to Y/N?" Yuta's voice echoed through the office of the international marketing floor. "It's urgent and we need her. I'm from the Japanese unit."

Na Jaemin, your new co-worker, asked you to come. With a smile on, you saw Yuta waiting for you.

"What do you need, Yuta?"

"Are you the one who is in charge of France and Italy's orders?" You nodded at his words. "Well, I think that someone messed up and their orders came to Japan, and Japan's order came to France. Can you check it out with me?"

Both of you came to your desk and typed out the information about the order. Someone from the delivery unit must have mistaken the orders, that would have cost millions of dollars.

"I think you should call the international shipping floor, there's Seulgi. She may know what to do before the boss finds out."

When you were on your way back, Chaeyoung stopped you. She was smiling a bit.

"Can you help us, Y/N?"

It turns out that marketing and international marketing are supposed to make an ad together. You were picked as a person from the international floor, and Doyoung was picked from marketing.

"I'm glad I'm working with you, Doyoung."

"Me too. I would cry, if I had to work with Jeno or Xiaojun. They're a bit weird."

"I don't blame you." You laughed when you opened your laptop. "I think we should start today, and it would take about a week for us to finish. What's the theme of the ad?"

Doyoung took a look at his papers and then answered you.

"Youth. Progression. Victory."

"How the fuck are we supposed to do it?" In your head, you saw how much of a struggle this ad would be. "Any ideas?"

The time went by so fast, none of you noticed it was past 8 pm. Both of you got to work to make the best project you could ever do. Doyoung was a smart guy, and he knew exactly what to put in an ad to make it interesting.

While both of you were working, Taeyong didn't call you at all. You were supposed to be at home at 6, yet he didn't even care. He's probably still mad at you because of the fight.

"I'll drop you at home." Doyoung put his coat on, and looked at you to check if you're ready. "C'mon, Y/N."

"I feel bad. You're doing too much for me, Doyoung." It was truth, Doyoung didn't mind but to you it was wrong. Taeyong is supposed to help you, not his best friend. "Let me call Taeyong, he would pick me up."

"Waiting for his response, then."

It's ben almost 30 seconds and he didn't pick up. Another call. And another. Nothing. He wasn't going to pick up your calls tonight.

"I'm sorry. It's going to be the last time you're dropping me at home. For real."

Doyoung didn't answer but rather smiled at you. It was cute how much you didn't want to depend on him, but you did anyway.

Both of you were in a car talking about the details of the project when suddenly your stomach made a noise.

"Have you eaten anything today?"

"Lunch. Sandwiches."

"Y/N, it was at 1. It's 8. Are you hungry?"

"No, I'm fine." Another noise came from your stomach. "Okay, maybe a little."

"We're going to eat something. I'm hungry too."

When you were about to protest, Doyoung shushed you a bit. He parked by a restaurant next to the company. Both of you ordered the same thing and enjoyed the meal together inside.

"How much am I supposed to pay you back? I wasn't looking at the price."

"Don't worry, it's on me."

"Doyoung, I can't-"

"I said it's fine." He laughed. "Enjoy your meal and stop being so annoying."

It was the first time since you could've remembered when you were in a restaurant. The last time you were in a restaurant was with Taeyong on your birthday a few months ago. You couldn't explain why, but you felt the warmth you hadn't felt in a long time.

"Doyoung, I really want to thank you for everything you're doing for me." He stopped eating and focused on your words. "I have shitty time with my husband, work is getting on my nerves, and you're too nice to me'' It felt as almost you were crying. "You have no idea how much it does mean to me."

"Y/N, stop. I do it, and I'm not complaining at all. I like to spend time together, and it's not your fault that Taeyong is such an asshole. I wish he was a better husband. You deserve someone who will love you unconditionally."

After that, your evening got better. Doyoung took you on a small car trip around Seoul. He showed you some streets you hadn't seen before. Deep down, he knew you didn't want to come back home as soon as possible. He parked for a minute by the Han River.

"It's an amazing place. I feel like I'm 17 again, me and my friends go on trips here to follow our crushes from school."

"I did the same thing with boys. Me, Yuta, and Taeyong with Jonny would be here every day after classes because of Taeyong." He was laughing at himself. "Because of him and Kang Seulgi, we were here every day for hours. He wanted to look at her and ask her out. It never worked though, because she left for some time, then we were in business school, and he was dating you."

Kang Seulgi? Seulgi from the delivery department? From you company? Taeyong had crush on her? Suddenly you felt lightheaded, your vision became blurry, and tears appeared on you eyes. You had to take a few deep breathes to calm down.

"I've never heard about Taeyong and Seulgi? Why?"

"Fuck. I wasn't supposed to tell you then." It was an accident. Doyoung believed you were aware of Taeyong's first love. "I shouldn't tell you. Sorry, Y/N."

"It's too late, can you tell me more?"

"I shouldn't. I already have said too much."

"Doyoung, please. Taeyong never told me about Seulgi. I had no idea about another girl."

You felt hurt a bit, not because you were jealous. You were hurt because Taeyong was probably lying to you for these years. Was he in love with a girl that got away? That's why he doesn't care. You're not the one Lee Taeyong loves.

"They were seeing each other for months. He always had a thing for her. She rejected him a few times because she was supposed to move to Daegu for some time." Doyoung was looking far ahead, he didn't dare to spare you a look. "Seulgi left, he was depressed for weeks, then I met you. I introduced both of you to each other." Boy, how much does he regret that. "He was focused on you, then Seulgi came back. I guess they tried to talk, but he was dating you already."

"Now it all makes sense to me. Fuckin asshole." You weren't even hurt anymore. It seems like all the feelings for Lee Taeyong are gone. Even hate. "We've been together for the past 8 years. I've focused on him. I was like a maid! He was never there for me when I needed him the most, but I forgave him. I always did. I did this all to find out he was never truly in love with me. Bullshit." A sarcasstic laugh left your mouth while Doyoung was observing you. "Why would you ever introduce him to me? I would've dodged the bullet, Doyie. I wish you didn't."

Doyoung felt guilty, even though he shouldn't. In his eyes, Taeyong was a good man. He was sure his friend was treating you like a princess.

"Sorry, I felt he would be a good party for you. I don't know. But you can't say he doesn't love you. You don't know that."

"I think we both know that."

Awkward silence occurred between you.

"Listen, I do believe you deserve better. Don't mind him, maybe one day he will see what he has lost. Look at you, Y/N. You can't get such an asshole like him to make you feel bad. I love him, he's my best friend, but you're my friend too. I wish you would be happier."

His words were true and meaningful. Doyoung was right. You deserve better than that. In the heat of a moment, you turned your head towards him and kissed him.

"Fuck, sorry. I shouldn't, I don't know what I was thinking-"

He stopped you with a kiss. Much stronger kiss. It was like your mouths knew each other well. As if they were missing pieces together. It's been a long time since you've been kissed.

Best friends don't kiss each other's partners, and a wife doesn't kiss her husband's best friend. That was the truth. It's been a few days, and it was awkward between you and Doyoung. Taeyong apologized to you, and he tried to be a better man for you. Somehow, you felt a bit guilty because you were married, but honestly? You wished to wake up to Doyoung every day instead of Taeyong.

"I made you breakfast."

Taeyong got into the bedroom with a plate of toast and scrambled eggs.

"Thank you."

"That's it?"

"What else am I supposed to say?" You popped your eyebrow. "I've done breakfast for you for the past 8 years, give me a break already. It's the bare minimum, Taeyong."

"I thought you'd be happy."

"I am. Okay?"

It's too late to fix things now. Breakfast in bed won't fix the damage that has already been done to you. Deep down, you wanted to feel guilty, but you just couldn't.

In the company, everyone was busy. It's April. One of the busiest months for the company. You had hopes of passing by Doyoung. Your project got accepted, whichh made your comapany's saels higher. Mark would drop by to talk shit about your co-workers. Johnny bought you a coffee, and Sooyoung called to go shopping with you. Everything should go fine.

About 7 pm, when the company was almost empty, you saw a well known to you figure. He was putting his things together, probably about to leave the building.

"Can we talk? Like adults, please? Ignoring each other won't turn back time, Doyoung."

"It's not the best time for this conversation, the building is about to close down."

"Then let's talk somewhere else. Even at the stupid bench in the park."

He took a second to rethink his life decisions.

"Let's talk at mine."

After 15 minutes, both of you arrived at Doyoung's apartment. It was located in the center of Seoul. It was maybe the fourth time you've ever been there.

"I know it's bad and awkward. I'm married to your best friend, and we kissed each other, making out even." You chuckled because of your nerves. "I shouldn't have kissed you, I guess. Sorry. But please, let's talk. I kinda miss you." He looked at you, a bit shocked. "As friends, of course."

"Well, I really want to say I regret kissing you. Really." He was pacing around the living room. "But it would be a lie. Honestly? I enjoyed it, and I would do it again, and again, and again. I don't give a fuck about Taeyong now."

His statement made you blush. He was confident in himself and sure of what he was saying.

"Fuck, me too. I know how wrong it is, but I can't help myself."

Nothing else needed to be said. Doyoung dropped everything he had held. He was kissing you like a starved man. As if he hadn't been able to see you for ages. It's a forbidden romance, and you're enjoying it.

Next thing you knew was you being in his bedroom. He was slowly kissing you down your neck, while his hands were taking off your clothes. Everything felt magical.

"Can I?" He asked with hungry eyes, his fingers on the hem of your pants. "Please?"

"Please."

It was the best sex you've ever had. Taeyong usually didn't pay you much attention. He wanted to cum and he could care less if you did. Doyoung paid attention to you, and only you. He was focused on making you feel good. He loved your body and moans you left out your mouth.

"You're amazing. I wish it was me who dated you back then." Doyoung was holding you in a spoon. His fingers were circling your shoulder. "I like you."

"I like you too."

Since then, it has become a routine for you. Taeyong wasn't suspicious of anything. He was busy working with Seulgi. He couldn't lie, but he preferred to stay at the company until late hours to finish tasks with her. He thought you were having fun with Joohyun or Sooyoung. You and Taeyong barely talk to each other, but none of you seem to mind. This marriage was meant to fail from the beginning.

"Y/N." Mark touched your shoulder. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure?"

"What were you doing at Doyoung's apartment last night? I was there to drop him off his laptop, but I saw you coming in."

This question made your heart drop. Romance between you and Doyoung was supposed to be a secret until you'd be responsible enough to divorce Taeyong.

"We're friends? And co-workers? I was doing research with him." You giggled. "What are you even thinking of?"

"Fuck, sorry. I shouldn't have asked." He was a bit embarrassed. "You wouldn't do anything harmful to Taeyong. I thought you were doing something weird with Doyoung."

"Mark, please. How could you think about it?"

"I don't know. I haven't seen you talk in weeks. He's always around Seulgi, you're meeting with Doyoung a lot, and both of you leave at different hours." He was a bit confused. "Are you guys fine?"

"Yes, we are fine, Mark. Don't worry too much."

The thought of being almost caught scared you. Your friends wouldn't understand you. They would blame you for cheating on your lovely, hardworking, and amazing husband. Especially, if you're cheating on him with his best friend. You were lonely, and you lost feelings for Taeyong long ago, he himself probably had lost them first, a long time ago.

"I know." Joohyun's word made you stressed. "Taeyong called asking about you. I covered for you every single time. You're cheating on him, right?"

It was supposed to be a chill meeting at your apartment with a coffee and cake. Joohyun loved you as if you were her sister.

"Before we go any further, don't judge me, please." You couldn't look her in the eyes. "I'm ashamed of myself, but I think that's how it was meant to be. You don't understand how it is to be with Taeyong. How is it to be unloved and ignored."

"Y/N, I'm not judging you at all. Me and Johnny support you. At first, Johnny was furious, and he couldn't believe it." She chuckled. "I guess, me too. I wasn't ready. But look at this. After Taeyong? I really admire you, and how you were able to move on with life.

"I know I'm the worst person on earth because of that. I'm ashamed to face him and tell him I want a divorce."

"Well, it's not a surprise. It's a tough topic. Let me ask you another question. Is it Doyoung?"

"How do you know?"

"It's obvious. Every time we've been gathering together, he could never take his eyes off of you."

After that, Joohyun and Johnny promised you to keep a secret. They didn't support cheating, but they couldn't blame you. Everyone thought you were living a great life with Taeyong, only to turn out it was the total opposite.

"I'll divorce him."

Doyoung was sitting on the chair on his balcony with you on his lap. He was finishing his glass of wine. As soon as he heard that, his eyes met yours.

"Are you sure? I don't want to force you into anything." He said, slowly carrasing your back. "I fear that Taeyong won't forgive us. I may lose my best friend."

"At first, I thought the exact same thing." You kissed his cheek. "But now, I completely hate this guy. I lost my femininity, myself, and energy because of him. I can't look at him, because all I see is how much he hurt me and me cheating on him."

"I'm here. I'm going to support you no matter what."

Both you and Doyoung told your friends you needed to go on a trip to Jeju. You had the time of your life there. Taeyong was texting you once in a while. Doyoung made your life interesting. He gave you something Taeyong could never.

Dark nigths going on a walks on the beach. Singing songs in a karaoke bar or in your room. Doing stupid teenagers shit. Life with Doyoung was different. You felt loved.

Joohyun invited everyone from the friend group to a BBQ. It was a usual Friday. Mark was in charge of drinks with Jungwoo. Johnny was in charge of the music. Taeyong was busy with his phone, while you and Doyoung cut fruits like Joohyun asked you to.

It should be a peaceful night. Only if Seulgi didn't show up. After she came, the atmosphere tensed. Jaehyun felt uncomfortable, so did Yuta and Taeil. You tried to ignore it, but Seulgi was all on Taeyong. In public. In front of everyone's eyes.

"Why is she here?"

"I don't know. Joohyun probably invited her." Doyoung sipped on his drink. "That's wild."

"It is. That's why I hate him. Look how shameless he is."

After some time, everyone was busy with something. Some were dancing, and some were singing old hits. You were on the coach, looking at your friends having fun.

"How are you, Y/N?" Jaehyun and Jungwoo sat down on both sides of you. "We saw you're sitting like a potato here."

"I'm not drunk enough to go up and dance."

"Then drink more!" Jungwoo handed you another drink. "We're having fun tonight!"

"Exactly. You can't be depressed or something."

They were right. Soon after, you had almost five different drinks, most of them being mixed with vodka. You were dancing with the girls, then with Yuta and Doyoung. You really had a lot of fun. Until Taeyong turned the music off.

"Everyone! Can I take a second of your time?" Everyone was confused. Your heartbeat was faster, and your hands started to sweat. "I'd like to share the wonderful news with you!" He was drunk. Drunk like on Jaehyun's birthday. It means trouble. "I don't know if any of you are aware of me and Y/N. My lovely wife."

You were quick to stand up and grab Taeyong.

"Let's go. Get yourself together you're embarrassing me."

"Let me go." He got out of your hold. "As you know, we've been married for 8 years! That's a long period, right? Well, I think someone might get bored of one another."

"Taeyong, please. Stop it."

Tears came into your eyes quickly. Everyone witnessing the scene was confused. Joohyun was fast to send Johnny to get Taeyong somewhere else.

"Johnny, leave me alone! I'd like to share something with you! Our lovely, sweet, and faithful Y/N is a cheating bitch! That's right!" He was laughing devilishly, while you were on a verge of a breakdown. "Isn't it crazy? We all think about her as of an angel. Look at her. She's not all that."

"I don't think you should do it, man." Jaehyun tried to get Taeyong's attention, but he wasn't listening.

"I should. My wife is fucking my best friend, and I should stay quiet? No way! Tell us, Y/N, how long have you been fuckin Doyoung?"

People left gasps. They all turned their heads towards you. Johnny and Joohyun felt anger. He should never done this to you in a public.

"Let her go, man. I'm not kidding." Doyoung stood up and pushed Taeyong. "Are you crazy? Did you forget about fuckin Seulgi? You're not saint after all."

It felt like a nightmare. Everything was going so fast, and you could only stand there shocked.

"I was faithful to her for the longest time ever! And look how did she pay me back."

"Don't be funny, Taeyong." You managed to say it, while wiping the tears away. "How can you do this to me? After what I've done to you. I never told anyone how much of a burden living with you was! Not even once! I was there with you when I was doing every chore for you! Every little thing you needed! I let you fuck me when I wasn't in the mood, because I cared about you!" You were screaming on top of your lungs. "Y'all can judge me. You can throw names at me, I don't care! I've never been happier. None of you understand what I went through."

Your friends were in shock. They never would guess what was coming. You and Taeyong fighting in the Johnny's backyard with a people around. All the dirty things you've ever done were mentioned.

"Don't act like a victim."

"Am I not? You were using me for everything. I lost my will to live, Taeyong. You're a selfish motherfucker, who had never loved me. You've been in love with Seulgi since the beginning. You lied to me, ruined my life and I wasted all those years."

"I want a divorce."

"Me too. I hate you, Taeyong."

With that, all your group friends were confused. Joohyun, Johnny, and Doyoung gave you support. Taeil and Sooyoung reached out to you too. Mark,Haechan, Yuta and Jungwoo were confused about what to do. Jaehyun had no idea what to think, until Johnny changed his mind. They were uncomfortable with everything that'd been said that day.

Taeyong blocked your number, packed your things, and threw you out of your shared apartment. You had no choice but to move in with Doyoung.

"I love you, Y/N. I think I always did."

"I wish I had married you first." Both of you chuckled on the way to the court. "Imagine what we would have done in these years. I'm grateful we have so much to explore about each other."

Doyoung never let you down, or doubted you, or your trust. He gave you loved, you were craving for. He was a missing puzzle to your life. He helped you understand yourself, and improve yourself.

"Mr. and Mrs. Lee, oficially you've been divorced. Mrs. Y/N, succesfuly, you dropped Lee from your last name. I wish both of you happines on a new life's path."

It would be the end of the chapter titled Taeyong, now you're beinning a new one with your true love.

[onyourhyuck]

SHALALA. | L.TY

— Prologue: “Lay low lay low lay low, baby, keep it low-key.”

— Summary: Where you have to design an outfit for Lee Taeyong a famous fashion model but it leads to you both stripping off your clothes.

— Genre: Smut minors dni. SHALALA is such a bop. Model!taeyong. dom!taeyong. praising praising praising. sneaky link trope. Pussy eating. Overstimulation. Many orgasms. Almost caught (?) Makeout. Female fingering receiving.

— Notes: I love Shalala album so much.

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You’re a designer who’s now working with the most viral and talented fashion model Lee Taeyong.

It is truly an honour you stand in front of the most handsome man in the entire world you’ve laid your eyes upon. You feel almost self conscious about your eyes laying on him. It’s like you thought, you wonder if you even deserve to have such a good moment to watch him. To look at him.

But Taeyong was a friendly guy. He welcomed you. He heard good things about your work and he feels like it fits into the concept he puts out there. The most neo person to live. He bleeds neon green to you. He’s perfect for your work.

You smile. “It’s honestly my greatest accomplishment to have you model for my clothes.” Taeyong smiles back hearing you say this. Every designer tells him this; ‘it’s an honour. I am so glad you allowed me to design this for you.’ But your words seem to have a different meaning and tone to what he usually would hear from other brands.

You spoke with the most raw truth about your work. When Taeyong looks at the clothes you make, they tell a story, they tell a story about every single thought and aspect you make in your head while creating these beautiful things for people to wear.

Taeyong couldn’t wait to see what you will create for him. He can’t wait to see the story you will make for him to see and read. To tell the world and wear it on his sleeves.

“I look forward working with you, Y/n.”

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You’re sat down designing on the paper. The hardest part of being a fashion designer it’s that you have to sketch the idea. You have to brainstorm every part of your muscles to figure something unique, something worth making and trying out. You don’t want Taeyong to wear the most banally shaped and boring designs — because it’s not his concept firstly. Secondly you wish to catch the attention of the public and have people want to scream to wear what Taeyong will wear on that fashion walk.

You want people to look at a certain clothing and think: ‘Wait What! That looks like it’s made by Y/n.’ And you want to get the point across that you want to make your work the most outlandish and outstanding piece of clothing like it is an artwork that must be hung up in a museum somewhere.

This was your goal and you knew the moment you needed a model to do the right job it would have to be no one else but Lee Taeyong.

He has your vibe. He has style and the body you need. And most importantly he has the face and personality that fits right into your branding.

You sketch on the paper many designs various sizes and shapes; a shirt in a shape of a triangle? Pair of trousers with rectangle stitching ends? You did anything you found to be fitting. You let your mind run wild.

“Y/n what colour do you want the first stage outfit to be?” Your co-worker Johnny who worked for you for many of your fashion shows and such. He was another designer too, and without him you’d be a lost cause you thought.

You trail busy looking at the pieces of papers checking out the outfits you have sketched. He was behind you holding many blocks of colours and he saw you were too far looking at the papers than at him. “Hmm…I have a vision… but I can’t seem to see it clearly.” Johnny hears you say that with a sigh.

His eyebrows rise up on his face. “How come? What’s your vision.”

You hum putting the papers down on the desk as your chair turns around. You’re now facing Johnny. “I want the audience to go wild when they see someone like Taeyong; I mean he’s handsome. He has a face that anyone would want. I want his clothes to equal that.” Someone with Taeyong’s face would want to be shown off.

Johnny can understand that your points coming cross may be from your stress and overthinking though you have a point, when he looks at Taeyong he imagines something weird. He wants a weird outfit.

“I think we should make something weird. Something out of the norm-you’d-usually go in the direction of.”

You squint your eyes as you hear this. The sudden wave of realisation puts you into a trapping reality like you were dreaming out of nowhere so you’re now going to be through a lane of ideas trafficking at your fingertips. You turn around quickly, “You’re a genius Johnny…” Johnny had no idea what you were now drawing. But it seems like he made you tick in a different direction now. As per usual his guidance always makes you bring out the best ideas out of yourself.

In a few minutes you’ve drawn the perfect picture of what your vision actually was. Johnny was brought in closer to the desk next to you leaning down with one arm stretching out to hold the table. He looks proud. He looks satisfied and it’s a lot better than what he expected from you. You smirk looking at the design of what you will be making Taeyong wear; on his first stage fashion walk. You can’t wait but you can already imagine that he will look so good, that he will have no choice but to take people’s breathes away and leave them unable to look away from him. As if he was a siren possessing anyone in his reach.

“It’s perfect.” Johnny told you satisfied.

You grin. “He’s going to be the centre of everyone’s attention now.” You we’re sure of it. You were confident and you could already tell in the future it will be like that.

“What are you going to name it?” Johnny now said asking you and you raise an eyebrow humming.

Your eyes sparkle when you click your fingers in the air as if you finally found the perfect title to name this outfit design you have created.

Something weird for something weird to wear.

“I am going to name it,”

“Shalala.”

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Taeyong would be in the fitting rooms awaiting for your arrival. It was early morning and he was surprised to have been called in so early. You had a great chance to be making many finalists decisions for the cat walk designs but it seems like you had made something so special that you told him to come to your studio this early in the morning. He was excited he won’t lie. Taeyong loves your work and he meant it when he told you he loved every single piece you have created from the beginning of your uprising career. There was never a moment where he disliked any piece of your work and he can proudly say this that he will not be left ashamed. He’s bewildered with anticipation.

He has no idea of what you will be showing him today; no idea what you have called it. No idea what it could be. He just knows you made something and he’s about to find out what.

He’s alone in your studio waiting until you come inside with a welcoming smile. The moment you strut forward to give him a greeting hug from you, in which he gladly accepts, the whiff of your sweet fruity perfume attacks his nostrils in the most pleasant way possible. You smell so good he couldn’t resist from wanting to smell more of it but he restrains himself. Surprised by your beautiful smile too, you pull away from him first.

Letting the hug go you beam happily. “It’s so good to see you again Taeyong. Did you get here safe?” You ask mentioning a polite voice. Taeyong was starstruck watching you. He wasn’t expecting you to be this happy to see him. But he was glad you were happy because your smile truly did something in his stomach. Something special.

“Yes I got here safe.” Taeyong smiles gently as he nods. “My managers are getting us coffee. I told them to get an americano for us both. I hope that’s okay?” He wasn’t sure what to give you because he wasn’t sure what you’d like or not so he got the same drink as what he would get hoping you wouldn’t mind.

You were surprised he was buying you coffee anyways; it’s your first time getting offered a cup of coffee from a model.

You smile at him, though your heart skipped a beat by his compassionate gesture. “Ah yes Americano is perfect thank you. You didn’t have to.”

‘Thank god. It would’ve been so awkward if she didn’t drink coffee…’ Taeyong trails to his own thoughts.

You now decide to trail to the fitting areas where the outfit you have created. You spent so many all-nighters making the design of the outfit you created with Johnny; secondly you would like to say it’s the most Neo-thing for someone like Taeyong to wear and at this point you know it’s good. Because Taeyong quite literally would bleed Neon Green if he had to. You know that his favourite colour is green so you cooperated that into the outfit.

The only thing you need to do now is to reveal it to him. Your heart’s chasing miles from what you wanted it to be. You were nervous and panicked. You were confident in the outfit but you care so much about Taeyong’s opinion too. He’s the one who will make it go viral. He’s the key and you’re nothing without his good impression on the outfit.

Taeyong’s eyes widen as he was met with your hands revealing the outfit. It was a simple puffer jacket with puffer pants. It gave this most comfortable down to earth look but at the same time it looks so stylish there wasn’t a single bland thing about it even though it was just a puffer jacket and a pair of pants puffer out in the same material. He feels like this was the most beautiful piece of thing he’s seen made perfectly adjusted to his needs; he won’t be cold wearing this that’s for sure. He will be able to walk around and do all the poses models do on the cat walk. The material is soft and fun. It wasn’t boring which is what he finds amazing about this whole thing. You managed to turn something so simple — into something so unique and weird. Which is what he loves so much.

He knew you wouldn’t disappoint him.

“I am now introducing you to: Shalala.”

The jacket was a bright green; vibrant as heck it could blind everyone’s eyes from countries away. Your designs on the jacket was black squares similar to checkers making it compliment the bright distracting green. The black squares made the jacket somehow more tame. Which is what Taeyong found to be the most important part. Balance.

Your work has the perfect balance that many brands should learn from you. Taeyong sticks by these words. Famous Brands should learn from you.

The pants were wide and flown out. Taeyong saw the way the pants were following the black and green patterns now like it was an illusion. He was impressed, mind blown in a way.

He looks back at you with his mouth wide open. “I love this Y/n. Truthfully it’s nothing else I’ve ever seen before but I love that about your work.” He states with genuine emotions.

You smile. He likes it and that’s what matters to you the most. “I’m glad you like it. Honestly I tried to think about your style in general… you have a unique style and I like that.” You softly add. “I wanted you to wear something you’d want to wear.”

“No one else has done that for me.” Taeyong reveals as his eyes were glued on your face now as if they were unable to let go off you in the sight. You turn around with your eyes widen as you saw how intensely he’s been watching you. Somehow your heart starts to beat even more.

‘Why am I feeling so nervous suddenly?…’

Taeyong comes forward watching you as his hands slowly lift themselves to feel the hem of your shirt attaching on your body so nicely. His fingers wrap themselves around your perfectly shaped waist and his gaze lows down to your kissable lips. Somehow he always knew you were attractive but seeing you more and more. Working with you was a pleasure he enjoyed the most. You’re the first designer to make him feel this way. You catch his breath to become hitch.

You knew you shouldn’t be this close to Taeyong. You know how much this can become a scandal if anyone saw you how close he’s closing into your body the gap between you both shrinks and now you could feel his chest pressing on your body with the same amount of intensity your heart was pumping out of your chest. Your eye could pop out their sockets. It definitely feels like it.

You whisper. “Taeyong…we can’t be doing this.” He knew you were right but, the moment feels too good to stop and he can’t help but want more. More of you. More than anything else he’d ever want before. “Shh…” he tells you slowly.

His deep voice was so powerful yet so low and deep you couldn’t help but think perhaps you’re addicted to hearing his deep voice speaking like this to you. And now you don’t want him to stop when he was looking at you with so much emotion.

“Lay low lay low lay low, baby, keep it low-key…”

Your lips crash into his passionately moving in each others shapes. The kiss leaves you feeling more and more detached from reality than before and you never thought getting kissed by the famous Lee Taeyong would make your skin crawl with so many compliments towards him. He was not only so handsome and talented — but he can kiss so good. You never expected to have been able to see this for yourself. To have yourself experiencing such pleasure given to you by Taeyong. The man drags you on top of a desk. The outfit you created was put on the side out of your minds.

What was important now to him was you getting pinned by his tongue in your mouth dominating yours with so much ease it was like an easy game for him. You weren’t sure if this was reality. Or if this was virtuality.

Hearing your moans escaping out when Taeyong pulls apart from your ruby red lips that he could kiss on and on without a singular boredom irking him. Now your neck was begging to be kissed, held, loved and marked by him so much he couldn’t help but launch down to your soft skin. Biting on it carefully leaving beautiful marks behold like you were rewarded.

You shift on the table with your thighs trembling. The way your neck was your most sensitive part; Taeyong was in awe at the effects it gave you.

It made your tremble already and he hasn’t even gotten to the part where he fucks you.

Your eyes were dilated so much. Taeyong could stare at your pupils for hours on end. The way your Iris pupils reflect the light so beautifully proved that you’re light itself.

“Oh god… Taeyong…” you groan when your shirt was pulled off by the model stripping you clean. You couldn’t help but join in pulling his expensive branded clothes. Though you were careful not to rip it. You both succeeded in getting yourselves naked in their arms as Taeyong’s mouth lap on your breasts. Hands condoling your chest with a light squeeze there and then.

The tongue playing by your nipples finding your head hanging back as your shoulders clench up tensing together. Your stomach pressing inwards at your pelvis because of how good it feels to have his warm saliva paint your breasts with it. Like he was a painter and you were his one true canvas masterpiece.

“You like that, Y/n?” Taeyong murmurs against your beautiful breasts he finds them to be the most attractive part of you but he would lie if you weren’t completely attractive head to toe. Because you are. You’re someone who has it all.

And he wants all of you. He strives to be better for you all along.

You nod softly in his response unable to find your words to answer him back but nonetheless he didn’t mind. He prepares you by stretching your wet folds with his two fingertips. You gasp when you feel him watching you, no, he was staring at you as your clenching round his two fingers tightly. Each meaningful movement as stretching you so far you could feel your tongue coming out with your moans. He loves watching you become a mess, from such simple touches, he loves the effect you give out.

You muffle your moans with your palm as Taeyong stops pulling away he leans down to give a soft kitten lick on your clit that makes your hand slide off your face. It was nearly impossible to be quiet when you were getting devoured head on by Taeyong. His hands stretching out your thighs. You feel them greatly and sharply pushing you down and down which only makes your pleasure stronger than your muscles could take.

You couldn’t even tell where you were anymore because you were so lost in the moment feeling your high coming closer that both you and Taeyong couldn’t hear the front door knocking. The voices behind the door belong to the managers, indicating they came back with the coffee they had been waiting to get for the two of you — Taeyong doesn’t stop eating you out as if he was starved unable to get any self control back.

So now you’re on the desk with your thighs spread wide over getting yourself eaten out by your model. And you try not to make any loud sounds that can get you two caught. Somehow his gaze was watching you as the managers call out your name on the other side of the door, while they keep knocking.

“Miss Y/n? May we come in?” The manager asked finding the silence quite hard to ignore.

You juggle your own moans and your voice trying to separate them. You deeply breathe out and your voice is very muffled and strained by your lacking sinful thoughts of how good Taeyong’s mouth on your wet soaking pussy is. “N-no! Me and Taeyong are doing something— v-very important right now…!”

The managers stood there quiet reacting to your response. Maybe they should leave you two alone to discuss your work process?

The snapping motion of your stomach finally lets go and your pussy juice spews down from your aching wet hole into Taeyong’s mouth who didn’t waste a single drop. He darkly muffled. “That’s it… such a good girl…” he whispers keenly against your folds and you shudder at how hot he absolutely sounds. It’s so difficult to not be moaning out his name; heck you’d chant it not moan it loudly. You’d be chanting it as if it was a holy hymn meant to be sang to the world how good he ate you out.

You whimper. “G-gosh I can’t do this anymore Tae…” You say as your fingers fiddle in his hair and he murmurs softly kissing your overstimulated pussy humming. “Just a little bit more hm?”

You can’t say no when he’s so persuasive with the way his voice has his power over you. Taeyong knew you cannot reject him when he’s having so much fun controlling you right now.

“Miss Y/n but the coffee is getting cold? Will you and Taeyong be okay with that?” The managers come back asking as if they were worried more about the coffee meanwhile Taeyong was busy trying to destroy you from inside and out.

He’s loving this fucked out version of you so much, it’s impossible not to fall in love with you.

You wanted to tell the managers to already go away and do something with their life than to disrupt your time together, but then again, deep inside the idea of getting caught makes this even more thrill seeking to you in your opinion.

You muffle your groans out. “T-that’s fine— leave the coffee outside the door…!”

Taeyong smirks as he finally sees you getting closer to your second orgasm and this time you didn’t bother to hold back you simply let it run over you taking your first hand pushing it down to his head grinding his face on it. He loves it when you start to fidget with yourself and force yourself on his face — you love face fucking him when your orgasm was reaching its peak washing you both down with your juices spilling down your thighs and on the desk now. Your moans was incredibly strong that Taeyong had to reach up putting his hand on your mouth covered by your own lubricant from your orgasm, so your moans don’t come out.

Your eyes roll back slightly as you feel your orgasm washing away and soon Taeyong let’s your mouth become free from his mouth as he deeply kisses you. You feel your stomach panting in and out.

He whispers leaning down. “I like the name by the way.”

You raise your eyes up at him dazed and confused. “What name?”

He smirks. “Shalala.” Taeyong’s eyes never leave yours because he finds them to be the prettiest little orbs of life he ever dreamed to see. “I like it, Y/n.” You couldn’t help but smile in response, overwhelmed with pride and joy to know he likes it.

“I am glad…”

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@onyourhyuck please refer from translating and copyrighting my work thank youu! Reblog this fic and follow me for more updates it helps a girl out. <3

[xofanfics]

Lost For Words - Part V

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV

Genre: angst, fluff, smut 🥺🤗🥵

Pairing: Reader x Kun // Reader x Taeyong

Word Count: 5.7K

You were awake but didn’t open your eyes. You’d left the curtains open, you realized. Your eyes slowly fluttered open, bracing yourself for the light. Your eyes snapped open as you were met with the image of a naked Taeyong fast asleep in your bed. If you weren’t awake before, you were certainly wide awake now.

You looked around the room in horror as you recalled the events of the previous night. You replayed the night in your mind, as if it were a film, and how you took your clothes off and how Taeyong ended up between your legs and inside you. And you had the audacity to throb at the thought of him, a wave of guilt washing over you. 

The vibration coming from the nightstand startled you, bringing you back to your harsh reality. Your hands felt a little shaky as you reached for your phone. Without even having to look, you knew it was Kun. Your heart pounded in your chest as you answered the call, your voice trembling slightly.

"Hey, babe," Kun's voice greeted you, laced with concern. "I didn't hear back from you last night, so I wanted to check on you. Are you feeling okay?"

You took a deep breath, your mind racing. You were anything but okay. You were confused, in a daze, and filled to the brim with guilt and remorse. The thought of confessing the truth and his disappointment sent a fresh wave of guilt to crash over you.

"I'm just a little hungover," you said, a half truth. "I think I might take a painkiller and go back to sleep for a little while.” 

"Oh, okay," Kun replied, his voice laced with understanding. He chuckled. "I told you to make sure you drank some water to avoid a hangover! Anyway, just call me when you wake up, alright? I can bring you something to eat later."

"Okay, I will.” 

Your heart was heavy with the weight of your lies as you hung up the phone. Taeyong stirred beside you, rolling onto his side. He was awake now and you weren’t sure how much of the conversation he’d heard. 

“Good morning,” he said, so casually, as if this was all normal to him. He leaned on his elbow, propping himself up to smile at you. 

“Uh, good morning,” you said, with a weak attempt at a smile. You were becoming hyper aware of the fact that you were naked, pulling the sheets over your bare breasts. “We need to talk about last night…”

“Okay,” he said, sitting up in the bed, eyebrows raised in curiosity. “What about last night?”

You took a deep breath, not quite sure what you were going to say. “Last night shouldn’t have happened. It was a mistake.”

Taeyong’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I have a boyfriend, Taeyong,” you said, not sure why you had to explain. “We shouldn’t have had sex.”

“You have a boyfriend, sure,” he said, “but you made your choice. We’re both adults.”

His words stung, a sharp reminder of the mess you had created. You hadn't intended to hurt Kun, but your actions had spoken louder than words.

"I know," you admitted, your voice barely a whisper. "I just... I don't know what I was thinking."

Taeyong sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. He reached out and gently cupped your face in his hands, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through your body. "I know, Y/N," he said, his voice soft and laced with understanding. He tilted your head toward his, looking you in your eyes. "But we can't go back now."

His words hung in the air, a reminder of the reality before you. You had crossed a line and there was no turning back. You hesitated, your mind torn between regret and desire. Taeyong leaned in closer, his lips not quite touching yours. You could feel his breath warm against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

"Do you really think kissing me that day was a mistake?" he asked, his voice laced with longing. "I made love to you last night, Y/N…You’re telling me that was a mistake? You regret that?"

You stared into his eyes, your own filled with a rather strong cocktail of confusion, regret, and desire. You felt torn between the guilt of your actions and the connection you shared with Taeyong. Words didn’t come.

He wasn’t wrong. Last night, you made a choice - a choice that you would have to live with and figure out how to navigate. And choices had their consequences. 

You leaned into his touch and it wasn’t long before his lips met yours in a passionate kiss. You responded, your lips melting against his, your bodies pressing together, silently accepting the onward battle. The weight of your guilt and regret slowly melted away, replaced by these new feelings for Taeyong. In that moment, you were lost in Taeyong’s intoxicating embrace as you found yourself on top of him again, sinking onto his already-hard length.

*

Taeyong stepped out of your apartment building, the warm afternoon air washing over his face. He could still smell the lingering scent of your perfume on the collar of his shirt, along with the memory of your touch. With each step, he felt his heart ache in his chest. His emotions were all over the place and, after sleeping with you twice, they’d intensified. 

You made a choice and he had, too. The two of you made those choices together. He had no regrets. He replayed the events of the last night and this morning in his mind; your sweet moans and your tender touch, your whispers in his ear and his seed dripping from inside you.

A wave of longing washed over him. He craved your presence, your laughter, your touch, not just your body. He wanted more; he wanted to see you whenever he wanted, he wanted to touch you. He wished he could be the one you came home to, the one who you shared your hopes and dreams with and the one who wrapped his arms around you whenever you were upset. 

The connection he had with you was so intense, unlike anything he had ever felt before. But Taeyong couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness. He knew that your relationship was complicated and he was entangled with you, in a web of lies and hidden desires. The thought of sharing you with another man was a bitter pill to swallow, a jealousy that gnawed at his insides. But he had to keep his composure if he didn’t want to lose you, too.

After all, you weren’t his to have in the first place. 

*

As the hot water rippled down your body, you closed your eyes, trying to wash away the guilt that clung to you like a second skin. The memory of your actions with Taeyong haunted you, each droplet of water a constant reminder of the sins you had committed. You scrubbed your skin hard, as if you could erase the memory of Taeyong's touch. You longed for the cleansing power of water to somehow make you pure again, to wash away the stain of infidelity that marked your conscience.

The weight of guilt remained following a shower. Wrapped tightly in your towel, you moved through your apartment with a sense of urgency, cleaning and airing it out, trying to erase any and every trace of Taeyong's presence. You changed your sheets, replacing them with fresh, clean ones, hoping to remove the lingering scent of his cologne. You sprayed air freshener and opened the window, hoping to remove the smell of sex in the air. Every movement, every action, was fueled by a desperate need to erase the evidence of your wild night.

You took the Plan B that Taeyong went to get for you, chugging the pill down with water, as if that could undo things, as if it was a chance at redemption. The very last thing you needed was to end up pregnant and have no idea if the baby was Kun’s or Taeyong’s. You threw the empty box in the trash and took out the garbage, getting rid of the evidence. 

Not long after, the doorbell rang. You opened the door, revealing the man you’d betrayed with a container of soup. He kissed you on your lips on his way inside. “Hey babe. I thought about making you that Chinese soup you like but I was feeling a little lazy so I just bought you some chicken soup.”

You nodded with a weak smile. “Thank you…Were you up late working?”

“Yeah,” he said, placing the bag on the counter. He started sifting through the bags so that you could eat. “I went to sleep around two. What time did you get back?”

“Maybe around 12:30,” you answered, “I fell asleep earlier than I thought. I’m sorry I didn’t text you back.”

He shook his head. “No need to apologize. I know you were fine. Do you want to eat now?”

You nodded. Your energy levels were really low and, Kun being here when you were grinding on Taeyong’s dick a couple of hours ago, didn’t help the situation. As you ate, Kun carried the conversation. He talked about the housewarming last night and how nice Taeyong was and that he could see us getting along. He talked about how work went and how his juniors were slacking. You were only half there, hearing him and trying your best to look engaged.

"Is there anything else on your mind?" he asked gently, his hand reaching out to touch yours reassuringly.

Caught off guard by his question, you hesitated. Of course there was something else on your mind. You couldn’t stop thinking about Taeyong or what the two of you did. Of course, you couldn’t tell him any of it. "No, it's just the hangover," you repeated, as if trying to convince yourself of your own lie. “I think the food will help.”

Kun nodded slowly, seemingly accepting your explanation. “Wanna watch a movie? Sounds like the perfect lazy Sunday before we have to go to work tomorrow..”  

Work. That was the last place that you wanted to be. You’d have to confront reality somehow and face Taeyong in real life and real-time. Would things be awkward? Would Taeyong treat you differently? You didn’t take him for a man that would put you or his job at risk, but you weren’t sure how this would go. You’d opened up a door that couldn’t be shut so easily. 

It was your fault, truth be told. You weren’t perfect but, still, you couldn’t bring yourself to say that being with Taeyong was a mistake. You didn’t have any regrets when it came to him. You just regretted how it all came to be. You wished that this had happened at a time when you were single. Then, things would be okay, and these decisions didn’t have to weigh so heavily on your mind.

“Yeah,” you replied, taking away the empty containers. “Do you wanna pick this time?”

So, you tried to get back into normalcy by watching a movie with the man you were supposed to be in a relationship with. 

*

The next day at work, you found yourself glancing over at Taeyong every so often, a knot of guilt tightening in your stomach with each glance. His presence was a constant reminder of the sins you had committed, a secret that weighed heavily on your conscience.

Taeyong, on the other hand, seemed unfazed by the tension between you. He continued to greet you with his usual warm smile and engaging conversation, even going so far as to brush against your hands in passing moments. You tried to avoid his touch, to maintain a professional distance, but his subtle touches made you question whether or not you were overthinking. 

The workday dragged on, each minute dragging on as you sat with your conflicting emotions. You longed for the day to end, to escape your team, along with the weight of your guilt.

Finally, the clock struck five, signaling the end of your workday. As you gathered your belongings and headed out of the office, you picked up your phone to see a text from Taeyong.

Taeyong [5:01PM] : Can you meet me at Hidden Moon Bar?

He sent a link and it was a five minute walk from the office. You texted back, agreeing. Unfortunately, you couldn’t quite ignore Taeyong or pretend that what happened didn’t happen.

You said your goodbyes and left first. As you walked, you wondered how the conversation would go. All you knew was that this couldn’t continue. You had cheated on Kun, yes, but it would be better to stop now before things got out of control. You just needed to stand your ground and not get tempted to go back on what you wanted to say.

You sat down at the bar, deciding that you definitely needed a drink to have this conversation. A moment later, you had a glass of Pinot Noir in your hand. After a few gulps,  you felt much better about things. 

“Hey Y/N,” said a familiar voice from behind you. So casually, Taeyong took a seat on the barstool next to you. It wasn’t crowded, thankfully, as the happy hour crowds hadn’t made it just yet. “What are you drinking?”

"Hey," you said, your voice laced with a hint of nervousness. “I got Pinot Noir.”

Taeyong called over the bartender to say, “Can I have a glass of Pinot Noir, too?” He took out his wallet, pulling out his credit card. “You can put mine and hers on this card. Thanks!”

You nodded. “Thanks.”

He said, “No problem. Well, anyway, we should talk about what happened, right?”

“Yeah, um, what we're doing, what we did…it's not right. We shouldn't be doing this, Taeyong. We're coworkers, and it's too complicated. I think you should date other people, seriously."

He looked at you, without saying a word. He didn’t say anything for a long time, to the point where you began to feel a little awkward. He sighed and took a sip of the wine the bartender had just placed in front of him. He took a long swig and put the glass down before turning back to you. "Y/N, dating other people isn't going to change how I feel about you. I can't just turn off these emotions. Trust me, I've tried, but it's not that easy."

You sighed, realizing the depth of the situation. "Taeyong, you deserve someone who can really be with you. Someone you don’t have to sneak around with. It's not fair to you."

He leaned back in the chair, studying your face. "You think I want just anyone? I want you, Y/N. And I understand it's complicated…”

You shook your head, feeling the weight of responsibility. "It's not just about us; it's about my boyfriend, our jobs, everything. I can't just throw it all away."

"I get it, Y/N. I do. But I can't deny what I feel. I can't just pretend that we didn’t kiss, that we didn’t have sex, that we’re just nothing.”

You said, "Taeyong, I care about you, but we can't keep going down this path. It's only going to get more complicated."

He leaned a little closer. "What if I don't want to date other people? What if I just want to be with you, even if it's complicated?"

You closed your eyes, feeling the weight of the situation. "Taeyong, we can’t…"

He sighed, a mixture of frustration and sadness in his expression. "I can't promise that my feelings will just disappear. But if you think it's the right thing to do and that this is what you want, I'll respect your decision."

*

The office clock ticked down to 5:00 PM, signaling the end of yet another busy week. As people began gathering their belongings and preparing to leave, Kevin turned to the group with a grin. "Hey, is anyone up for dinner tonight?" he asked, shutting his laptop. “I have no plans. Someone please say yes.”

A few heads nodded in agreement, while others declined, letting him know that they already had plans. Attention was on Taeyong now, as he hadn’t responded. 

"I can’t. I have a date tonight," Taeyong announced, in a light, casual tone.  

While your coworkers laughed and teased, a pang of jealousy coursed through your body. A date? Already? 

Hina, turning off her monitor, stood up from her chair. "Is this the first date?"

Taeyong nodded, his smile widening. "Yeah," he answered. "Seolyun gave me a suggestion for a steakhouse so I’m going to take her there. Supposed to be pretty good."

You recalled your recent conversation with Taeyong last week, where you had encouraged him to see other people. That meant that dates were a thing. You felt jealousy and regret, realizing you weren't as prepared for Taeyong to move on as you thought. The suggestion to date others had been a bit easier in theory than in practice. You did your best to hide your emotions, forcing a smile as you joined the others in wishing him a good time.

Kevin, always eager to add to the conversation, chimed in, "So, how did you meet her?"

"Online dating app," Taeyong replied casually. "We were texting for a while and I asked if she had any plans, so I figured why not take her out tonight?"

Seolyun, your curious coworker, couldn't resist the urge to pry. "Can we see a picture?" she asked, her eyebrows raised in anticipation.

Taeyong chuckled, "I'll show you if we end up dating," he teased. “I don’t wanna jinx it.”

The thought of Taeyong moving on and potentially having a new girlfriend stirred a mix of emotions within you. While you genuinely wished him the best, you couldn't deny the lingering feelings you still had for him.

As you gathered your things and prepared to leave the office, a wave of uncertainty washed over you. What was going to happen now? 

*

Taeyong found himself staring at his reflection in the mirror, conflicted emotions playing on his face. Tonight was the night of the date he agreed to. He’d be a liar if he said that he wasn’t nervous about it. He adjusted his collar, wondering if he was making the right decision. By going on a date, he was respecting your boundaries, right? 

The girl he was about to meet was pretty and she seemed genuinely nice. He didn’t know much about her yet, but he thought that maybe this could work out in his favor. But as he buttoned up his shirt, a nagging thought tugged at the edges of his mind – she wasn't you. And she never would be.

The conversation he had with you had been playing in his mind all week, like a broken record. Taeyong sighed, trying to come to terms with what you’d said. If you wanted him to see other people, he reasoned, it meant you didn't want him. He had to at least try to move on, to forget about the feelings he had for you. Yet, the mere thought of being with someone else made his heart ache.

Glancing at the clock, he realized it was time to leave. He locked eyes with his reflection, trying to give himself a pep talk. It’ll be fun, he thought, trying to reason with himself, an internal battle plaguing his heart. Just one date, he told himself. She seems to be a nice girl. Maybe we’ll hit it off.

There are more girls out there other than Y/N, Taeyong.

All of these thoughts crossed his mind but he wasn’t sure of himself. Maybe this date would be a step towards closure, a way to untangle himself from the feelings he had for you.

As he stepped out into the night, Taeyong couldn't shake the lingering doubt. Deep down, he couldn't escape the haunting question – was he truly ready to move on, or was this just a futile attempt to fill the void left by someone he couldn’t have?

*

The week had been long, filled with deadlines and endless meetings, so when Kevin suggested grabbing dinner and drinks to unwind, you decided to get on board. Spending time with friends seemed like a much better option than sulking at home and being trapped in wonderings about Taeyong and this mystery woman. 

As you all settled into a cozy corner booth, the clinking of glasses and the hum of conversation surrounded you. The menu was passed around, each person expressing their preferences and sharing recommendations.

Seolyun scanned the cocktail menu with enthusiasm. "I heard their mojitos are really good. Anyone up for one?”

Hina, sitting beside you, offered a thoughtful smile. "I'm game. Mojitos it is."

“Speaking of mojitos, me and my cousins are planning a trip to Cuba!”

Despite the lively conversation about mojitos and travel, your thoughts drifted to Taeyong yet again. Who was this girl? What did she look like? What was her personality like? Most importantly, would Taeyong like her? Would he like her so much that he ends up in a relationship with her? 

Every few minutes, you found yourself reaching for your phone to look at Taeyong’s Instagram profile. You'd refresh the page, hoping to catch a glimpse into his date, hoping to see a photo, a story, anything that would tell you where he was or what he was doing. 

“Any travel plans coming up for the summer, Y/N?” asked Kevin, as he put a few pieces of pork belly onto your plate. Now, you were being forced into the conversation. And rightfully so. 

“Nah, I wasn’t planning on going anywhere but I’m not going to lie, a beach trip would be amazing. Me and Hina were talking about maybe doing a weekend trip.”

“I haven’t been in years,” said Hina. 

“It’ll be nice to get some seafood,” you added. 

“Speaking of seafood,” chimed in Seolyun, “should we order squid to grill?”

As the night went on, you were almost filled to the brim with anxiety. No matter how good the food was or how strong your drink was, you could only think of Taeyong. The thought of him enjoying an evening out with a nameless, faceless woman filled your heart with frustration and envy. 

Every notification, every vibration, every sound made your heart drop. Everytime you got a notification, you hoped that it was him and you hoped that he was thinking about you as much as you were about him. But it never was, and that hurt more than you thought it would. 

As you were on the subway heading home, you realized that you basically only knew Taeyong as a friend. You hardly knew him as a lover, but you wanted to. Was he patient? Was he the type of man to give you random gifts, just because? Would he plan dates without you having to ask? Was he willing to work things out if you had a fight? You wondered what kind of man he’d be like, if you were dating.

A shower wasn’t much help either. Those thoughts didn’t disappear but they shifted to the memories of him being here with you. You thought of how hard he kissed you, how he grabbed your hands and held them down as he thrusted into you in missionary, and how deep inside you he was. It was almost as if Taeyong figured out your body and how to please you in just a night. You throbbed at the thought. 

You knew you had no right to feel this upset about it. You had Kun, your loving boyfriend who was on his way right now with a bottle of the Pinot Noir that you loved. And here you were thinking about a man that you couldn’t have. 

You’d invited him over before you got in the shower because you felt alone. You wanted what you couldn’t have, so you went with the next best option. It wasn’t that you didn’t love or care about Kun; you did. But Taeyong had shown you excitement that you hadn’t felt in a long time. Kun felt…safe. Taeyong felt dangerous. There was something about the thrill of it all that turned you on a little bit.

As you got out of the shower and wrapped your towel around you, you found yourself picking up your phone again. You clicked on the Instagram app for what was probably the hundredth time tonight and found that Taeyong had finally posted something — a story. You pressed your finger on Taeyong’s icon and found the photo that you’d been waiting for all night long. You held your finger down because ten seconds to view it wouldn’t be enough for you. Taeyong had taken a picture of a perfectly cooked steak, medium rare and glistening just how he liked it. The steak looked amazing, but what really caught your eye was the small bouquet of flowers across the table and the perfectly manicured hand you could see holding a steak knife in the top right corner. And to top it off, he put 5 star emojis with the location of the restaurant tagged.

You felt your eyes become hot with what you could only assume to be tears. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the irony, a cruel joke. Were you really upset with him when you were the one who told him to see other people? You couldn’t possibly keep up an affair with him. It was wrong and you both deserved better than to drag each other around on strings and making promises you couldn’t keep. You’d uttered those words at the time but you weren’t sure that you actually meant them. And here you were — jealous.

You heard the front door open and close, signaling your boyfriend’s arrival. Before you went out there, you needed to pull yourself together. You took a deep breath. Suddenly, you wished that you hadn’t asked for him to come over. But maybe it made sense now. Instead of being left alone with your thoughts, having company seemed like the better option.

“Babe?” he called from the kitchen.

You wiped your tears with your towel before you went out to greet him. “Hey, babe.”

Of course, he greeted you with a smile that made you feel guilty. As you got closer, he said, “You okay, Y/N? You look like you’ve been crying…”

You said, “I think it’s just my allergies.” A lie, but believable. 

As you wiped away what was left of your tears, he said, “Do you need some medicine? I can go get some if you need…”

You shook your head. “I’m okay,” you said, forcing a smile. “I’d love some of that wine though.”

“Oh yeah?” he asked, planting a kiss on your lips. 

“Yeah,” you said in a low, husky voice. You kissed him back, harder this time. Kun was surprised at your forwardness and pulled you closer to him. You could feel him getting hard and, sneakily, he made your towel fall to the floor. 

“I’ll pour some wine,” you said, pulling away from his embrace, and showing off your body. You could see him biting his lips as you reached into the cabinet for your wine glasses. His eyes never left you, even when he was across the room on the couch.

A moment later, you were walking toward him, wine glasses in hand to place on the side table. Then you disappeared into your bedroom and changed into the lingerie set he liked. Little did he know, he followed you and watched you as you changed. 

“You look good,” he said, coming up behind you. “Are you horny, babe?”

You turned around to face him, nodding. You were met with your wine glass. You took it from him and took a long swig of the red wine. A little bit dripped down your chin as you pulled the glass away and Kun was quick to wipe it away with his thumb, slowly.

You took another sip and you watched him over the top of your glass. After you put the glass on top of your dresser, Kun pulled you close to him, pressing your body against his. You said, “So are you going to do something about it?”

You bit your lip. “Maybe…” Reaching down for his pants, you pulled them down. He was left in his boxers, his hardness poking through to give you a nice view. You heard a small groan come from his lips as you pulled those off, too, freeing him from the constraints. You ran your fingers back and forth across the head of his penis, teasing him, and watched it jump each time. You got down on your knees and took him in your mouth. You sucked his dick, nice and slow, at first. Then, you picked up the speed, drawing louder moans from your boyfriend. He put his hand on your shoulder and you knew that if you kept going he’d cum before you could get him inside you.

You pushed him back onto the bed, to his surprise, and climbed on top of him. “Take this off,” you said, referring to his shirt. You quickly helped him with the buttons and tossed the shirt to the side. He sat up and latched onto your nipple; he had easy access thanks to the lingerie, which had a small hole designated for them. He licked and nibbled on them. You screwed your eyes shut in pleasure, letting out small moans. Then, he reached down to your slit, running his fingers across it. You could tell that you were wet, partially because of the stimulation and partially because you thought of what it felt like when Taeyong touched you. 

He said, “Are you ready?”

You nodded. “Fuck me, Kun.”

With that, he flipped you over onto your back. He slipped in easily and started thrusting into you right away. Your walls gripped at him tightly, making him groan. With each stroke, you could hear how wet your pussy was from that wet, squishy sound. Hearing it must’ve made him excited because he was suddenly fucking you harder, faster; it was hard to catch your breath with the feeling of your body being pounded into the mattress. 

He buried his neck into yours as he thrusted in and out of him. From the way his breathing got heavier and heavier, you could tell he was close. The thought got you so excited. 

“Ride it, babe,” he said, pulling out. 

No words were exchanged. You just sunk down onto him with a squish. He groaned in response and let you take control. You started grinding on his dick, back and forth. Your wetness began soaking his pelvis and his lips parted in pleasure.

“That’s my good girl,” he said. “There you go.”

Hearing his voice made you throb even harder. You started going faster. It wouldn’t be long until you rode yourself into an orgasm. It wasn’t often that you found yourself having vaginal orgasms but today was the day. You could almost taste that delicious feeling building up inside you.  

In the moment of your orgasm, you got lost in the movement of your hips. You allowed yourself to forget. You forgot about the guilt and the lies. You lost yourself in the feeling of Kun’s fingers digging into your hips instead. 

But even as you came, a part of you couldn’t help but wonder, in the back of your mind, where Taeyong was, who he was with, and if he was thinking of you, even just a little.

But this was safe. Being here with Kun was safe. 

*

Taeyong tossed and turned in bed that night, not able to get much quality sleep. He’d dozed off here and there, but it’d been nothing substantial. You crept into his dreams again and things were perfect. It was as if he was living in an alternate universe, one where you were single and being right or wrong didn’t matter. In the dream, you were his and he was yours. He could almost smell the scent of your perfume, almost feel your lips on his. It was a dream he didn’t want to wake up from.

Despite the content of his dreams, he had a good time on the date. Her name was Hyewol. He started the night off in the same way he would’ve wanted to with you, if he had the opportunity. He met up with her, greeting her with a small bouquet of roses. Then they walked to the restaurant together and got to know one another on the way to the restaurant. They told each other the basics: where they were from and where they worked, what schools they went to and what countries they visited, and their favorite things. Then, they enjoyed steak and wine for dinner. 

He let her know that he’d like to take her on another date and, luckily for him, she was all for it. Part of him believed that maybe he could date her, that he could move on. But the truth was that she wasn’t you. So far, she was a person he could see himself with, but that wasn’t enough. Their chemistry wasn’t as strong. He could tell just by the way that he was in no hurry to kiss her.

He’d spent the past week on dating apps, hoping that the void he felt in his heart would be filled. He’d swiped through profiles, messaged other women, and he even went on a date tonight. The problem remained and it was that you couldn’t be replaced.

It was a bit dramatic, he supposed, but he felt as though he couldn’t just be friends with you. The two of you had crossed a line and it was too late to turn back now. The damage had already been done, hadn’t it? What if he just pushed forward anyway? No, he thought. He had to respect your boundaries. He couldn’t just tell you no. So he needed to figure out if you were serious about him moving on. But for now, he’d give it some time first. Maybe you’d change your mind and come to him instead.

General Taglist: @to-all-the-stories-i-love @sweetnspicy-noona

Lost for Words Taglist: @ridinjuyeon @soonyoonswoo

[nctstar]

1.

“Stop that.” He whispered against the skin of your neck. “You know he wouldn’t care.”

“That’s the problem. We need to do this properly.”

“You know why we can’t do that.”

pairing: johnyong x fem!reader (no romantic johnyong ship)

other members: none

word count: 3.7k

genre: romance, angst, with a side of smut

warnings: sexual content so minors please dni!! profanity, y/n has migraines (pretty severe!), semi-public sex, oral (fem receiving), cheating (? it's complicated), sleeping with your ex, some freaky kissing

disclaimer: this is a fanfiction purely from my (filthy) imagination. I don't know the nct members and don't claim that they act like this in real life. I also do not condone any of the activity by any of the characters in this fic. 

a/n: hi guys, i'm alive :D i've had a lot of ideas recently and a steamy johnyong drama was one of them, and then my eyes feasted upon acne studios event johnny and i finally got the push i needed to go through with writing it :) writing slump over we all cheered wooooo. also, ik it's kinda ~confusing~ rn. this is a series so just trust me okayyyy. also, i love making fic playlists and here's the one for this fic. if you picked up that this is loosely based on the 5SOS song blender pls marry me rn <3 nobody get's 5SOS like I do I swear :( pls hmu if you get me

You wouldn’t have noticed him at all, if it wasn’t for the way you watched Taeyong’s deep brown eyes flicker past you, shadows of stories passing by like it was nothing. You thought nothing of it, but your head turned, your body in tune with his more than you realised. And, just like a bad case of fate, there he was.

Johnny Suh.

He walked in like he owned the place, as he always did. His cocky demeanour hung off his body perfectly, like the oversized leather jacket he wore everywhere he went. His smile made the girl waiting on him eagerly blush, something that made you both angry and a little wistful. Your gaze lingered on far too long. And, as usual, like he always did, Taeyong pretended he didn’t notice. He always pretended, even when you were so far gone, he felt like he was pulling you out of quicksand.

“What colour looks better on me, jagiya?” Switching to Korean was your safety net, something sacred between only you and him, more intimate than the restless nights you spent tangled up in bed, Johnny’s presence a mere afterthought. You turned to Taeyong’s back, his slender body on display in the full-length mirror in front. You tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear as you both locked eyes through his reflection.

“Black.”

The seriousness, properness in the air was almost palpable, like you both were being watched, tested and graded. Not a single wrong movement, or breath. It was unbearable and at the same time, so tantalizing, like something could break the surface at any moment. Moving forward, you brought a hand up and over his shoulder, letting your fingers run over his collarbone. “Yeah. Definitely black.”

Taeyong kissed your hand, and you tried to remember when he took your hand in his. “I wanna show you a few more items. In there.” He cocked his head ever so slightly to the curtained fitting rooms, so subtle, meant to remain a secret between the two of you.

Not thinking about Johnny was like trying not to let the plague take over your body. He seeped through you like the truth, feeling right in every scenario. And in this moment, as you let Taeyong run his mouth down the valley of your breasts, your skin erupting in flames underneath his lips, you shut your eyes, and there was Johnny. Your feet on his toned calves, your hands around his thick cock. But when you opened your eyes, there was Taeyong, between your legs, right here, right now.

You clamped your mouth, moans threatening to spill out. “Oh god,” you whispered through your fingers. “R-right ther-haah…” Your thighs constricted around his head as he quickened his pace, both of your hands behind you to hold you upright.

“Hey, excuse me?”

Fuck.

It’s like someone had drawn the curtains back on you both in this compromising position. You moved away first, shoving yourself back on the complimentary bench you weren’t sure how many others had done unholy things on, Taeyong shortly after, watching your face redden with every passing second.

Johnny continued. “This one’s a little small, sweetheart. I run larger than that, you know?” You could almost see him winking at her, smiling that god-awful smile that made every woman melt like putty under his gaze. As if on cue, she giggled.

Fuck. Him.

“Come here, baby.” You spoke softly, both hands unhooking your bra as you kneeled in front of Taeyong, shuffling closer so your tits pressed again his torso, clad in a compression shirt. He groaned. “Fuck.” He grabbed your face, kissing you deeply and pushing you down to the floor.

Thirty minutes later, you were in the passenger seat, the days shopping in various sized bags in the back. You were both silent, the radio playing some obscure song neither of you knew. With the windows down, the air still felt hot and heavy, pressing onto your skin. You played with the strands of hair sticking to the back of your neck, squinting as Taeyong turned a corner and the blaze of the mid-afternoon sun poured into your eyes.

“I ended up getting both.”

“Hmm?” Condensation slipped inside your palm as you played with the cold water bottle next to the gear shift.

“Both of the caps.”

“You bought caps? You have so many at home.” The answer felt involuntary, combined with the frustration of the hot weather and lack of food since brunch. He frowned, and you immediately felt guilty. “Sorry, I mean like-“

“You said you liked the black one. You were right there.”

You felt a deep shame somewhere buried inside you as you mentally flicked back to the moments in the dressing room. The plague was making you really sick now, making you notice things you didn’t need at all, and throwing out memories of things that you really did. “R-right. Sorry, hon. Didn’t mean to snap. It’s just so hot today.” You meant to chuckle, to lighten the mood, but your body could not go through with it. Instead, the both of you sat in uncomfortable silence.

The silence stretched on for agonising miles, as it usually did. Nowadays, when you weren’t having dry, stationery conversations, you were exploring each other’s bodies like it was what you were supposed to do as a couple. Not out of passion, or lust. Just because. Your eyes kept drifting closed, the will to keep them open slipping further away from your grasp. You just wanted to be in bed…alone, slipping through the mattress and into the floor, deeper, and deeper.

You finally woke with a jolt at the sound of the door close. Your makeup felt far too heavy on the skin of your face, the ache in your feet now screaming at you. “Baby, wait.” The phrase disappeared into the air unheard, but you stepped out of the car, right in the face of a camera.

“_, _!”

Shit. How did they find us?

“Are you here alone? Who drove you here? Tell us a bit about the man in your car…” You admired the man’s insistence at his job. His passion, however intrusive and idiotic, was majorly inspiring at this phrase of your life.

Shut the fuck up, you wanted to say. You kept a stern face instead, hoping your eyes would communicate that instead. “No thanks.” You side-stepped him strategically, a new throbbing in the left side of your temple starting to grow. Fuck, not again. You tried to breathe, in, out, in, out, but the rhythm caught in your throat, your vision began to grow blurry, and you stumbled uncomfortably in your sneakers that now felt like they weighed tons.

“Ma’am? Are you alright?” You heard the man’s keys before his footsteps, the sound of his camera flashing as he approached. The light was blinding, and you dropped to your knees as the flashing sounds continued, like gunfire on a field of soldiers.  

Who the fuck still used bright-ass flash?

“Who the fuck still uses flash!” It was a yell, from maybe about 10 metres away, but the ringing in your ears fogged it up like it was underwater. You tried to focus on your breathing, but your heart didn’t care about your wellbeing, apparently, speeding up at the sound of his voice. “Get away from her, right now.” The voice, still foggy, felt closer to you, and you felt an arm around your middle pulling you gently upwards. He whispered, “Okay, sweetheart, let’s get you out of here.”

Your pain spiked at the thought of the busy, lighted McDonalds as you walked away from the man with the flash camera, somehow on the floor of the car park now. “It needs to be dark, and quiet. It won’t stop unless it is.”

Johnny made a noise of sympathy. “I know, I remember.”

You only then registered the tears, wet on the heavy-set makeup on your face. You couldn’t even look him in the eyes, a weird sense of guilt throbbing just as hard as your migraine deep in your gut. He was still walking you somewhere, and you just let him, no energy to care about anything other than the pain in your temples. He soothed you gently through whispers of something inaudible, but his breath felt warm and welcoming on your neck, and, despite it all, you were grateful for his presence.

“Go lie in the back, okay?” He shoved his jacket off as he spoke. “No cologne today. You can put it over your face. Don’t worry about anything.” You nodded, the familiar routine flooding back into you like water in on a dehydrated rock.   

Time passed like the way months pass in a busy year, and the next time you took a long, deep breath, you opened your eyes to the sensation of a firm, cold, king-sized bed. The room was dimly lit, enough so you could make out the outlines of the furniture in the room, but not bright enough to read anything if it was written on the walls. There was no lingering smell in the air, only the faint scent of your own shampoo, and no sound at all except the light ringing in your ears, much less strong than before. Your muscles relaxed like you were in a hot bath after a long day – safe, relaxed, nothing on your mind. You fell back asleep in seconds.

You woke what seemed like hours later. The room was significantly darker now, no more dusk light glowing from behind the curtains. The door was slightly ajar, and you registered voices this time coming from beyond.

“Why didn’t you just call me?”

“She was having a bad one. And, why would I have needed to call you?” You put on the slippers next to your bed without thinking, wrapping the robe you forgot you put on tight around your body. “You weren’t even there with her. What were you thinking?”

“Johnny, don’t. I stepped out to get something for her.”

“You should have known she would have the episode today. There are always signs.”

“You just said it was that asshole’s fault!”

You walked in the kitchen to see Johnny turned away, Taeyong at the end of the counter. When you met Taeyong’s eyes, you watched them widen as he stepped towards you. “Oh, honey.” You held him, his hand pressing the nape of your neck towards himself. “I was so worried. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you squeaked. As you pulled away, Taeyong pressed a kiss to your lips, pulling away to look into your eyes and stroke the sides of your face. “You look so tired, sweetie. I should have noticed.”

“Really, it’s fine, love.” You kissed him back, making awkward eye contact with Johnny towards the end. Shuffling awkwardly, you cleared your throat. “Um, we should get going.”

“No, you’re staying for dinner.” Johnny threw a towel over his shoulder in a way that was comical, almost making you laugh. You smiled, trying to ease the situation. “Johnny, really. I appreciate it, but-“

“There’s no way you both can drive all the way back to the apartment.” Your heart skipped as you heard him say the and not your. That one word gave you that illusion that time had stopped, and that the past 10 months had all been a dream, and you were still there, in the kitchen, pressed up against his body without a care.

You shook your head, willing the memories and coming back into reality all at the same time. “You can’t. You’ve just had your worst episode. No thanks to that grade A fucktard who doesn’t know how to use a camera in the 21st century.” He rolled his eyes. “Car trips will make you nauseous.”

“No! I mean,” you rubbed your head. “Me and Taeyong, we have this, um, this event…” You knew it was a weak argument, but you threw it out anyway. When you looked over at Taeyong, he was, of course, shaking his head. “I’m sure Jaehyun won’t mind. It’s the album release party.” He looked over to Johnny, who nodded politely.

“You can still go. Just drop me off at home.”

“Nonsense, _. You spend the night here.” You and Taeyong both looked at each other, you with an expression of clear distaste, and Taeyong with something a bit less than that. “I mean…didn’t you say you had a thing?”

“Yeah, I mean, she’s not a kid. She can stay by herself. Call us if you need anything. But she shouldn’t get into the car.” Taeyong hummed in agreement as Johnny walked towards the both of you, and you looked at the both of them incredulously. “Did you both just decide on plans without me?” You crossed your arms. “Unbelievable.” It came of surprisingly playful, making them both laugh, Johnny now sizing you up with his eyes like he always did. “You like the robe?”

“Y-yeah.” For a second you were too comfortable, looking right into Johnny’s eyes, wanting more than anything to be in his arms. Your body, your mind, this house…you were there, 10 months ago, back when it was all okay, it was right. Forgetting that Taeyong was right here, staring at you back, wishing you were here right now.

“You gonna be okay here, baby?” Taeyong brought your hands into his, pulling you close as Johnny walked away. You nodded, smiling up at him with passion in your heart for the first time in what felt like too long. The guilt started throbbing in your gut again, but you grabbed his face in your hands, kissing him deeply until you felt it ebbing away.

∞

“Shh. You need to be quiet. My niece is here.”

That was the sentence that rang like alarm bells in your brain. At first, your entire body tensed up, the unfamiliar surroundings making you confused. Memories of the day came back, and you relaxed a little, finally registering what was going on.

The sounds of a woman giggling and going shh in an exaggerated tone made you feel like someone threw all your emotions in a blender. Annoyance, confusion, anger, sadness, lust…it all swirled and mixed intentionally, blades cutting through each one at lightning speed.

Both of their bodies thumped upstairs, and it wasn’t long before she started moaning like a pornstar.

Your. Fucking. Niece. Is. Here??

You made a face of disgust at nobody as the noises continued. “If I was your niece, I would be reporting you to CPS.” You slammed back into bed, momentarily delighted that the painful throbs in your brain were gone far enough that you could throw yourself around easily. You pushed a pillow on top of your face, as if you were in a teen movie and you needed to throw a tantrum. At the third Oh, harder! girlish squeal that you heard, you were ready to go through with it.

Instead, your brain decided to flash through memories of yourself and Johnny. Back when you weren’t his fake niece, and instead the giggly drunk girl he would take upstairs to fuck the living daylights out of.

Fuck. Why am I thinking about this? You were stretching your arm uncomfortably out, too lazy to get out of bed to reach your phone, thinking about calling Taeyong to distract yourself or to come get you when the noises upstairs stopped.

“FUCK YOU!”

It was so loud it made you jump.

You heard the deep tenor of Johnny’s voice in the background, before her higher-pitched one cut through the air. “Fucking asshole!” You heard thumps of footsteps, much quicker and lighter than before, and sounds of zippers being pulled. When they stopped close to the door of your room, which was still slightly ajar, you kept thinking shit. There was no way you could pretend you were asleep this entire time anymore.

“Give me your fucking car keys. I’m leaving right now.”

“Look, I-“

“Do you even remember my name?” The small but significant silence that followed was so intentionally on point that you couldn’t help but snigger, covering your mouth with your palm to remain quiet.

When you heard the door slam, you lay properly in bed, still going with the plan that you were gonna pretend you somehow slept through that. As if like a badly-scripted TV show, the door to your room opened as you tried to tuck yourself in, not quick enough to avoid Johnny at the door.

“Oh, hey.” For some reason, everything was immediately extremely funny, and it was like trying to guide an elephant going estray, the way everything in you was trying not to burst out laughing.

“Sorry about the noise.”

“It’s fine.” You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “I was awake anyway. Migraine’s pretty much gone.” You gestured awkwardly to your head, reaching out to grab your phone now properly. “I think Taeyong’s ready to pick me up now.” You turned the screen on as you said this, as if you just read texts from him. In reality, your phone was dry and empty, the lockscreen of you and Taeyong making a heart at the beach last summer glaring back at you in the dark. “I’ll be out of your hair soon.”

“No trouble.” He walked into the room, door now fully open. You crossed your legs on the bed, not knowing what to say or how to act, not knowing why he was now silently looking over the dresser in the room to your left.

“I said your name.”

Your blood froze, body reacting before your brain. You sputtered, “I, uh, what?”

He opened his mouth to reply, now fully turned towards you, but you brought a finger to your own lips. “That’s okay. Don’t need to explain, Johnny. I, just, why would you say that?” The last part refused to remain a thought in your heard, instead spilling out of you in words drenched in emotional blender soup.

“You just said you don’t need an explanation.”

“Ugh, Johnny,” you rubbed your temples, not because of an incoming migraine, but in a more dramatic, single mom in a bad murder mystery novel kind of way. “You always do this. You know what I mean.”

When you looked up, his eyes were softer than you thought. He looked…vulnerable, and lost. He had the other end of that string that you held onto as you slipped deeper into the quicksand, standing there, looking like only one who could pull you out.

He walked closer to you, and your body did not move away. He got close enough to sit on the edge of the bed, slouched over, and you dragged your legs over to sit next to him. “I’m your fucking niece?” You laughed easily now, and you watched his body vibrate as his body copied yours. “It was the only thing I could think of in the moment, okay?” His smile made your body feel electric, like you could conquer anything in that moment. And for a moment, you surrendered to the notion that it was exactly 10 months ago, on the precipice of the moment it all fell apart.

Why did you break up with me? You wanted so desperately to say, your voice coarse from screaming it in your mind for hours every day. But instead, you answered his measured attempts to keep a light conversation.

“You had any migraine this bad in a while?”

“No.” you shook your head, now tucking your legs in underneath you to lean on the bedframe, his body turning to face you as you did. “Been seeing a new physician. She’s much better.”

“Oh yeah? Finally dumped Dr Misogyny?”

“Uh huh. I figured I didn’t need someone who kept trying to convince me I was overreacting and being hysterical.”

“Mmm. Good on you, sweetheart.” Even though you knew how easily Johnny threw endearing terms around, your stomach still flipped violently at his reply, and you gulped.

“Taeyong’s been good too. He’s sleeping a lot better. Not working too late anymore.”

“That’s good.” Johnny readjusted on the bed, inching closer towards you. “He works way too hard. As do you.”

“Johnny…” Your voice ever so slightly caught in your throat, and it was noticeable enough for him to catch. You mentally cursed, but that’s when something in you went fuck it, and you went in straight for the kill.

“Why did you leave me…us?” Your voice shook, no matter how strongly you willed it not too, and the last word came out like a forbidden whisper.

He looked directly into your eyes, as if he was relieved that you asked him, like he’d been holding onto the response for the past 10 months. “I…I regretted it every single day.”

“Then you should have fucking told me.” You sucked in a breath. “You could have said anything to me, and I would have come running. I trust you, I…I love you.” Every breath felt painful as you let your confession hang in the air dangerously. “You know that.”

“I know, _.”

Before you could even let yourself process the moment, you leant over and kissed him. The guilt throbbing in your gut exploded like a small fire as it catches on to grow endlessly large and overwhelming. He grabbed your body, lifting you to rest on his lap, your kisses growing feverish with heat.

When you pulled away, you opened your eyes to come to your senses. “N-no, we shouldn’t.”

“Stop that.” He whispered against the skin of your neck. “You know he wouldn’t care.”

“That’s the problem. We need to do this properly.”

“You know why we can’t do that.”

“I don’t, Johnny. I don’t know why we can’t.” You began to argue with him, but he shut you up by hoisting your upper body further and further up, biting and sucking the skin down the base of your neck, collarbone, and between your breasts. Your arms latched onto his muscular shoulders as you rocked naturally on his lap. “God, fuck you, Johnny.” He chuckled against your clothed torso.

“Give me a second.” He pushed you gently backwards, rising up on his knees to let you watch as he pulled his shirt off with one hand. He fell on top of you in one fell swoop, kissing you between the cages of his muscular arms. His body rolled onto yours, making you gasp. “Johnny, I-“

“I know. Just let me. Okay?”

[keehomania]

taeyong is a sub and i will die on this hill ngl!!

LEE TAEYONG led a double life, one that he was well aware of, one that he was absolutely proud of. on stage, he was a beast. he made sure to emphasize his charisma, the energy he radiated as he danced and rapped. he made sure to perform, to put on a show. he held himself together, his composure strung by threaded lies that made those who watched him perform believe that he was a force not to be reckoned with. it was exactly what he was good at, it was his job to put on a show.

when the lights were dimmed and the cameras turned off, that was when he let his true colors show. it was a gradual process, baby steps that eased those around him into the light of his personality. when he wasn’t performing, he was giddy. smiling with his members like a little kid, or entertaining his fans during his lives. it was a way for everybody to dip their toes into the water, to get a glimpse of what taeyong was really like. however, despite those glimpses, nobody would get to see him at his realest. nobody but you.

he was able to perform in front of everybody, just not in front of you. no, it was different with you. he was raw, vulnerable. instead of towering, he crumbled, he was completely and utterly at your full disposal. you could do whatever you wanted to him and he would take it. in fact, he would beg for more, that was how much he trusted you. he knew you could look into his soul and recognize his most twisted, sick thoughts, and still love him the same. it was exactly what you were good at.

“please,” he whimpered, his voice shaking with every breath he took. “hurts so good.” he was a mess, he always was, yet he managed to look perfect. in your eyes, he was always perfect. his pale, porcelain skin was glazed with sweat and spit, his lips red and swollen from being kissed by you and chewed raw by him, his eyes were glazed with the same tears that stained his cheeks, and his fingers wrapped around the stained bedsheets beneath his naked, bruised body. yes, he was absolutely perfect.

you cooed at the sight of him as you worked your fist, jacking him off at a ridiculously fast pace as more tears slid down his cheeks. “you want me to stop, tae?” your tone was condescending, low and mean, but he couldn't control the way it made his cock twitch in your hand. he knew it, and you did too. “want me to stop when you’re so close?”

there were no lies told, he was close, on the brink of cumming. again, for the fourth time in a row. he wasn’t sure how much more he could take, but he wanted to take as much as possible for you. he was willing to stain the sheets a fourth time and let his mind shut off for a few seconds if it meant you’d be pleased with him. “no,” he whimpered, his trembling hands wiping away the stray tears before latching onto your wrists. “i can take it.” it was a lie, if the way his thighs quivered were any indication, but you knew you could coax one more out of him.

“that’s a good boy, so good for me, yeah?” you cooed before spitting some more on the tip of his dick, smearing it all over and mixing it with the precum that had oozed out a while ago. if the way you praised him wasn’t enough to send him towards the edge, the way you spat on him definitely was. he chewed at his lip to bite back a moan as he bucked his hips into your fist, desperately chasing the high he was so afraid of. “so needy, thought you couldn't take it anymore.”

he shook his head as he clutched the bedsheets, knuckles whitening as he held onto the still slippery sheets. “i can take it,” he repeated softly. the sheets were slick with his cum, alongside your juices that had come together. you reached over with your free hand and ran it alongside his chest, the feather-like touch sending shivers down his spine. you smiled at the feedback, running your fingers alongside his nipples just to hear his sweet little gasps before pinching them ever so softly.

his mouth hung open at the sensation, spit trickling down his chin as he continued to buck his hips, so close to cumming. you noticed the way his fingers probed at the wet sheets, a smile gracing your face at the sight. “got your fingers dirty from the mess we made, yeah?” he nodded weakly as he traced the sticky mess. “clean your fingers, baby. can you do that?” it was over for him, absolutely over. he nodded once more as he brought his fingers to his lips, sticky with your arousal and his seed. it wasn’t gross to him, it never was. he was quick to comply, wrapping his bruised lips around them and taking them whole as he sucked the sweetness off.

the sight only encouraged you to show less mercy, your eyes darkening as you fisted his cock harder, your thumb coming up to probe the tip of his hard, red dick. your other hand remained steady on his chest, toying with his nipples as you leaned forward to make a bigger mess of him. his eyes widened as you attached your lips to his balls, gently suckling and probing at the sturdy flesh. he had opened his mouth to say something, but a silent scream fell from his lips. he saw white as he came, his entire body quivering under your touch. you didn't stop, not even as he shot ropes of sticky white for the fourth time, coating his stomach and the sheets with his seed once more.

tears streamed down his cheeks once again, sobs wracking his body from the overwhelming pleasure. you met his teary gaze as you finally brought yourself up, planting kisses all over his face. “don’t cry, baby, you did so good,” you assured him as you brushed away the sweaty strands of hair plastered to his forehead. he sniffled as you wiped his tears away, his face softening only for a second. he let himself calm down, savoring the moment while it lasted, until you spoke once more. “you can give me one more, can’t you?” of course he could, he always could.

[cbeargyu]

nct 127 as romantic tropes?

nct 127 as romantic tropes

taeyong — the grumpy x sunshine 🍒

he’s all sharp lines and tired sighs, the type who says “be careful” instead of “i love you.” but your laugh softens something in him. he pretends not to care when you steal his hoodie, but he folds it neatly on your bed the next morning. you kiss the furrow between his brows until it disappears. he never believed in happy endings—until you looked at him like he was worthy of one.

johnny — the friends with tension 🧸

you’ve been best friends forever. too close, everyone says. too many lingering touches, too many late-night calls that turn into mornings. he knows how you take your coffee. you know what song makes him cry. one night, he leans in and asks, “what are we doing?” you smile, “something we should’ve done ages ago.” and finally, the tension breaks.

yuta — the forbidden love 💌

he’s the boy your parents warned you about. silver rings, slow smirks, danger wrapped in leather. but he looks at you like you’re art. like you’re precious. you meet in secret—under city lights, behind closed doors. he tells you he’d burn the world to keep you safe. and maybe he would.

doyoung — the enemies to lovers 🌻

you argue with him like it’s foreplay. every meeting is a battlefield of snarky comebacks and stolen glances. but one night, the line blurs. your fingers brush as you reach for the same book. he doesn’t pull away. “you annoy me,” he whispers. “you make me feel so good,” you reply. and just like that, the war ends with a kiss.

jaehyun — the rent-a-boyfriend turned real 📸

you hired him to impress your old classmates at a reunion. nothing serious—just someone to smile beside you, to make it seem like you’ve got it all figured out. but he holds doors open for you when no one’s watching. he laughs like he means it. and when the night ends, he says, “you don’t have to fake it with me.” and for the first time in years… you don’t.

jungwoo — the sunshine x sunshine 🍯

you both laugh too much, cry over stupid movies, and bring home stray cats. he brings you flowers just because. you dance around the kitchen in your pajamas. he holds your face and says, “i didn’t know love could feel like breathing.” with him, everything feels light. everything feels like home.

mark — the childhood friends to lovers 🗝️

you grew up with scraped knees and pinky promises. he was your first crush, your first heartbreak, your first real everything. years later, he still knows how to make you smile when you’re about to cry. and when he finally kisses you, it’s not fireworks. it’s something softer, something safer—like finally coming back to where you belong.

haechan — the one bed trope 🛏️

you’re forced to share a hotel room. there’s only one bed. he teases you all night, calling you a coward when you sleep on the edge. but at 3am, your legs tangle. you wake up to his arm around your waist. “don’t get used to it,” he mumbles, already pulling you closer. but you do. you always will.

[cha3rry]

title: rainy night

words: 429

pairing: taeyong (nct) x female reader

genre: fluff, romance

_________

Author's notice

Hi! This is my first time posting on Tumblr. I've writing random scenarios/fanfiction as a hobby for a few years. Despite this one being short, I hope you'll like it ^^

_________

English is not my first language, so excuse any vocabulary or grammar mistakes

______________________________________________

After a tiring day of work for both of them, they just rested on their shared bed, comfortably under the warm bedsheets. Cool weather. The sound of the rain echoing in the room, creating a calm atmosphere. He was clinging on to her body, as his head rested on her chest. She had wrapped her arms around him, gently playing with his hair. Despite the exhaustion, none of them felt like sleeping. They just sat there in silence, as they found comfort in just that.

"Are you asleep?" She whispered at some point, still gently caressing his dark hair. "I'm not" he replied. "Don't you have to wake up early tomorrow?", "I do", "Then why is your mind unable to rest?" She asked. "I've been thinking; we don't get to spend much quality time lately. We both work long hours and just end up exhausted, yet still unable to rest" Taeyong said, his voice sounding crystal clear and deeper than usual. "It's a tiring routine I admit. But we need to get through these hard days in order to rest" she whispered. "You're always so positive, even during the hard times" he said. "I admire you for that" he said as he lifted his head to meet her eyes, giving her a warm smile.

"You think a lot lately, don't you?" She said as she left a quick kiss on his lips. "I can't help but do so. This weather makes me feel depressed, and think negatively". "Brighter days always come right after the darker ones Taeyong". "Here you go again. Always thinking positivel. Focusing on the bright side". "And you on the other hand, are positive about everyone except yourself. Everything will be alright. You'll be fine. I'll make sure of it" she said. "I love you Y/n" he said, tightening his grip around her waist, also leaving a soft kiss on her exposed shoulder.

"I love you too Taeyong. I'll always do" she said, keeping her voice low, so that only he would hear that confession of hers. Staying like that for a couple of minutes, again, not talking, just pure silence and the only sound of the pouring rain.

"Are you asleep?" she whispered. Not getting a response, she knew the answer was a yes. She then reached with her right hand to close the small light on the nightstand, only to feel him clinging on to her body again.

"Just stay like this" he said, gently hugging her, dragging her under the bedsheets. "Good night" she whispered once again. "Good night" he whispered back.

Note: I don't really get how posting on this app works, so if I did something wrong, or there's some kind of feedback about posting and about the content, I would appreciate it very much!! Thanks for reading. Have a nice day/night!!

#sotd: Not Over You - Taemin

[papergirllife]

Lee Taeyong (M) teaser

‘I beg you don't embarrass me, motherfucker.’ But there's always exceptions when it comes to love right?

Taeyong x Bartender! Reader

Warnings: in this fic Taeyong has impulsive tendencies and physical aggression (not towards reader), light b*ndage, or*l play, slight or*l fixation, grinding, penetrati*on, Taeyong is very much down bad in this fic so lots of fluff.

Coming very soon! This is a short story, so there's no short snippet, sorry, guys😅. Let me know if you want to be tagged!

[softsan]

˚ 🥀⊹ 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋, 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄. (𝐩𝐭.𝟑)

✉️ ・ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.

✉️ ・ ── 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬: | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 |

✉️ ・ ── 𝐦𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 | 𝐲/𝐧'𝐬 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬

✉️ ・ ── 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: Mafia AU, Angst, Kingpin!Taeyong, Queenpin!Y/N, Fem!Reader, Childhood friends, Betrayal, Enemies to lovers, Eventual Smut.

✉️ ・ ── 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧:  You were the only surviving heir of the old-time Mafia kingpin that had ruled the four territories. You were long thought to be dead, living the normal life you had always wanted...Until you run into a Taeyong, a formidable ghost from your past. You are then thrown back into the Mafia underbelly, reuniting with enemies you had hoped had forgotten you. Will you run away? Will you stand beside Taeyong, kingpin of the North, and be his queen? Or will you take your rightful revenge.

✉️ ・ ── 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Possessive Themes, Future Explicit Sexual Content, Murder, Kidnapping, Strangulation, Torture, Weapons, Graphic Violence, Heavy Angst, Explicit Language, Alcohol Consumption, Mentions of Drugs, Betrayal, Morally Grey Characters.

✉️ ・ ── 𝐨𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.

Past.

Click.

You choked out a silent cry, your vision darkening as your world closed in on you.

Taeyong’s hand was trembling, his gun still pointed against the base of your skull. He let out a hopeless gasp, his chest relentlessly pounding.

He had pulled the trigger. You were supposed to have died by his hand. He was to end your beautiful existence. He was to snuff out the brightest light to have ever entered his miserable life.

“Taeyong!” His partner cursed “Hurry up and do it!”

“I’m out of bullets,” Taeyong said, no louder than a whisper.

He slowly pulled the gun away from you, relief washing over him.

“She trusted you,” Your brother spat, his voice laced with venom, “She trusted you and you stand over her to fire a bullet into her brain!” He thrashed the chains which tied to his wrist, against the hardwood floors.

Taeyong’s partner laughed. “The weak don’t deserve to live.” He circled closer, offering his loaded gun to Taeyong.

Taeyong’s hand felt numb as he accepted the gun.

“Take the brother out. He talks too much.”

Taeyong stared at the cold metal between his fingers.

“Do I have to repeat myself?”

He didn’t.

Taeyong fired. Blood splattered against the white walls. The roar of the gunshot echoed endlessly into the night.

You wanted desperately to pry your eyes open, but your eyelids felt so heavy. Your body ached; your limbs groaned. Your lungs felt like fire, screaming with every shallow breath you took.

“So, this is Silas’ precious daughter?” A woman taunted, her voice growing louder as did her footsteps. 

Father? 

“Silas’ most prized possession,” She almost sang, “Just look at this priceless cage he built to keep her safe.”

“There is no such thing as safe,” A man added to the conversation, “At least not in our world.”

“Who cares?!” Another said impatiently, “Let's get it over with and kill the bitch.” 

The woman chuckled as you felt the patter of her icy fingers graze across your neck. 

“The four crescent-cut diamonds,” Her voice softened, delicately holding up your golden necklace. “I’ve only heard about it in rumors, who would have thought such an exquisite piece actually exists.”

“A memento!” The older gentlemen exclaimed. “For us, the new rulers of this unforgiving land.”

“There are only three of us and four diamonds?”

“Never mind about that.” The woman cut in, “We still have to kill the little girl.”

I don’t want to die. Your lips refused to move. There’s so much I still haven’t done...

The barbed steel wrapped around your neck, messily cutting up your flesh. It tightened, strangling around your throat.

In another life, you wouldn’t make the same mistakes. In another life, you wouldn’t be friends with Taeyong.

Present.

You stared stonily at the food laid out in front of you. Despite, the constant rumble of your stomach you stubbornly held your ground.

“If you behave, then I'll sneak you some dessert.” The young man tried to bargain with you. You had quickly learned his name to be Mark.

“I’m not hungry,” You turned your nose.

Mark scratched the back of his head, unsure how to handle you. After all, you were Taeyong’s distinguished guest, if any harm were to come to you, Mark would surely lose an arm for it.

In Taeyong’s absence he had Mark set up security cameras, guards, and twenty-four-hour patrols. All to ensure you stayed in Taeyong’s residence.  

Mark heard the buzz from his phone. It was Gracie. He rejected the call. He wouldn’t make the same mistake again. He wouldn't underestimate your will to escape.

The last time he was briefly distracted, you’d managed to shatter a window with your bare hands. Mark had just caught you in time before you were about to launch yourself out of the third-story window.

Mark remembered the long-hanging curtains. They danced in the wind as he desperately applied pressure on your bleeding wounds.

“Please just don’t try anything stupid again.” Mark squeezed his eyes in frustration, “I’m already down an arm.”

You slightly tilted your head not following the last part.

“Taeyong’s so going to cut another one-off, if you keep harming yourself.”

You glanced at your bandaged hands, reminded of your recent antics.

“So please stay put and eat something.”

Just as you were to refuse, you heard the bedroom door burst open. In came a disheveled Taeyong, his hair a mess, his tie loosened around his neck.

“I won’t let you starve yourself.”

Mark let out a sigh of relief, saluting his boss.

“You can go,” Taeyong released Mark from his duties.

“Ah, and about my arm boss?”

“Leave.”

Mark wasted no longer, quickly scurrying outside the room and closing the door behind him.

“Y/N.” Taeyong addressed you.

Unease bubbled in the pits of your stomach, your heartbeat picking up. You refused to face him, instead pretending to study the embroidery of the pillowcase on your lap.  

“Y/N?” He said again,

You squeezed closed your eyes, wishing he’d stop.  

“Y/N?”

“Why did you bring me here?” You broke, your voice quivering in unrest.

“Y/N.”

“Why?” Your eyes revealed themselves, glistening as you held back tears.

Taeyong’s chest sank, he didn’t have any worthy explanation. All he knew was that he wanted you, he’d always wanted you. He needed you here, here beside him.

Taeyong kneeled by your legs, his face upturned to you.

“If you want to kill me. Then do it." You plucked up the courage, "Please don’t torture me.”

Taeyong shook his head, his brow furrowed. He didn’t have such intention. How could he possibly get you to believe him?

Taeyong stood up unexpectedly. You raised your bandage hands to shield yourself from the blow you expected. Taeyong’s guilt swelled, it tore threw him like a bullet grazing his heart. All of a sudden he wrapped his arms around you, pressing his face into your hair. He clumsily apologized, over and over.

You went rigid, unsure how to react.

“I’m so sorry,” His voice crumbled, “I’m so sorry for everything Y/N.”

“Just one bite,” Taeyong offered sweetly, a spoonful of cooled soup hovering in the air. 

You grimaced, childishly avoiding his spoon. 

“Please,”

“Not until you untie me.” You quibbled, using your chin to nudge in the direction of your bound wrists. 

Over the last few days, Taeyong stayed by your side. He’d talk, sometimes about trivial things like the weather, other times he’d share stories about his boys. He’d watch the movies he let you pick, otherwise, he’d watch you whilst you read books off his bookcase. 

Despite, your best efforts not to directly interact with him, you found yourself less and less frightened of Taeyong. His concern, his benevolence—you despised the part of yourself that saw the resemblance between this Taeyong and your childhood friend. 

Taeyong lowered the spoon and placed it back into the bowl, “If I untie your wrists you’re going to try an escape through the window again,” His eyes flickered towards your bandaged hands, “I can’t have you hurting yourself.” 

You bit the inside of your cheek, “I won’t do that again.” You willed yourself to grumble the words.

Taeyong’s tired face flashed upward, a hopeful smile growing on his lips. He reached down and undid the knot that secured you to the chair. While the silk rope fell to your feet, you stretched your arms, bending your wrists back and forth. 

“Eat,” He pushed the bowl towards you.

It had been a while since you’d last given up and eaten the food presented to you. 

I do have to conserve my energy...

You slowly picked up the spoon and scooped up some soup. You hadn’t realized just how hungry you’d been until you tried your first mouthful. The rest of the soup was quickly devoured.

Taeyong was content you were eating again. He watched you, adoring the cute scrunch your nose made when a droplet of soup touched it. He had every urge to wipe it away with his hand but held back in fear of startling you.

“Would you like some more?” 

You shook your head, knowing even if you were to say yes, Taeyong wouldn’t be the one to leave and retrieve it. If you wanted to get rid of Taeyong you’d have to try a lot harder. 

“I’m actually quite sleepy.” You faked a yawn, rubbing your eyes, “I’m just going to take a nap.” 

You plopped yourself down onto Taeyong’s mattress, pulling the duvet over your legs. Over the last few nights, one of your arms had been tied to the bedpost to prevent another reckless escape attempt. Taeyong, however, had also been in the corner of the room perched on an ottoman. His hawk-like vision never wavered from you, fearing if he’d close his eyes, you’d simply vanish from his presence. 

You observed the dark bags under his eyes and his sickly pale complexion. 

“You should leave and get some sleep,” Your tone was neutral, “Or I’ll just escape when you pass out from sleep deprivation.”

You noted the alarm on Taeyong’s features by your use of the word ‘escape’. 

“I’m joking,” You tried to keep up the little repour you’d built, “But you really should get some sleep.” You lay down on the pillow, turning your back to him. 

After a short pause, you heard Taeyong begin to move about. A silly part of yourself thought perhaps he was heading towards the door. You were wrong. 

You felt the other side of the mattress slump down. Before you had a chance to move, Taeyong coiled his arms around your frame, pulling you close against his chest. 

“What are you doing?” You stammered. 

“Making sure you don’t leave.” His breath tickled down your neck. 

All tempts for an escape tonight were futile. You sighed, sinking into him. There was no way he was letting go of you tonight.

Past. 

“She’s dead.”

Taeyong was frozen from shock. 

She can’t be. Y/N’s not dead. 

After all he’d done to ensure you’d come out of the massacre alive. Shujin, his partner was lying to him. He had to be. 

“That can’t possibly be true.”  Taeyong’s voice trembled. 

 “It is,” Shujin grinned, “Too bad you ran out of bullets. You could have made her death quick. Painless. Instead, she died a slow and agonizing death.”

“No,” Taeyong’s voice cracked, his eyes watered, “You’re lying to me.” 

“I’m not,” Shujin almost sounded gleeful. 

Taeyong’s vision blurred, his knees buckling until he hit the ground. He had purposely emptied his magazine before entering the room you were in. He had foolishly thought he could be the one to save you, but instead, he’d been the one to prolong you’re suffering. 

Present.

“Does it hurt?”

You were beginning to doze off, begrudgingly finding Taeyong’s warmth quite comfortable. Your bodies were snuggled close, your legs intertwined together.  

“My hands are okay,” You absently mumbled.

Taeyong reached for one of your bandages. He brushed his fingers across them.

“And what about the scar on your neck?”

You didn’t answer, sleep had come too soon to consume you.

You must have been dreaming when you felt lips sweep across your neck, leaving a feathery kiss on your scar.

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MONI’S NOTE: Part three! I hope you like it! I would much appreciate your thoughts, comments, reblogs and likes are extremely valued.

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