#Taeyong Angst

[softsan]

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

✉️ ・ 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. 

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.

[nctstar]

Can you write a smut w plot on Taeyong x sub!reader x Mark ? I am craving for this pair please bestie...you can take your time, no rush. make them a bit possessive and dom and you can add anything to your liking.

hiii friend! i know this is CRAZY late but i hope you still like it <3 turned out a bit more sad than expected HAHA

dumb conversations, we lose track of time

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” He bent over to kiss you, bringing both of his icy hands to your face, but you didn’t care. The kiss was everything, and you brought your bodies over to the wall as you continued, one of his legs now in between yours. “Fuck, I think…I’m gonna miss you so bad.”

pairing: markyong x fem!reader (no markyong ship)

other members: other 127 members mentioned

word count: 3k

genre: romance & smut, angst, fluff, sort of hurt/comfort

warnings: sexual content so minors please dni!! mild profanity, mentions of being sick from food, kissing, dom!markyong, praise kink, degradation (use of slut/whore), daddy kink, slapping, penetrative sex, riding, oral (male receiving), manhandling/being held down/held in place, missionary sex, praising (sweet girl, good girl), crying (like lots of crying!!), subspace, double penetration (2 in 1), clitoral stimulation, taeyong is leaving for military service and this is upsetting to reader (strong self insert moment LMAO)

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: NOW i know i was technically supposed to make this a (freaky) smut only...but i had to add the extra things because i have been sooo emotional lately and i have not really been in a smut mood unless it's emotional and loving :D with the release of the tortured poets department, taeyong's enlistment, renjun's hiatus...ya'll it's just been a lot. so a lot of this is very much just me projecting HAHA but hope it's comforting to some of you. also, i just wanna say that you guys shouldn't feel pressured to engage in sexual activity when you're sad and crying...everything here is consensual of COURSE as always, and this is all fantasy but i just thought I'd add that in. please take care of yourselves when you're vulnerable. love ya'll mwah <3

You stifled your giggles in the droop of your cardigan, but Taeyong still flushed red. Your cheeks puffed out as you fought the urge to snort in his face. “I’m so sorry.”

He rolled his eyes, instinctively going to run his hands through his now non-existent hair, making you double over in laughter. “Alright, miss, that’s enough. Hilarious, I know.”

“Noooo Taeyong, don’t be embarrassed.” You ran over, pinching his cheeks in your hands, feeling his skin hot and elastic under your thumbs. “You’re so cute. Like…Anpanman!”

“I know you love jjingppang, jagi, but that was so uncalled for.” You strung his arm into your body, letting the both of you walk away from the dim lights of the restaurant. “Why? Are you hungry? But didn’t you just eat?”

“There is always space for dessert, hon. Come on, we’ve been together 2 and a half years now, and you still don’t know my philosophies?” You were teasing, having fun, but as you watched another couple walk in front of you, hands gripped tightly together, the shadows in the trees dancing across their bodies, you felt something sharp poke inside you. You gulped the feeling down, forcing a smile, even though you knew he wasn’t watching.

“You’ll get sick if you eat too much bread again.” You shook your head, scoffing. “That was one time, Taeyong. And it was in Japan. I would definitely have eaten that much again.”

“Really? I recall you crying in the bathroom, whining to me about why I didn’t stop you.” You knocked him playfully, feeling his scent permeate your senses and bring you back to those times in Japan. He was here now, a solid body standing right next to you, brushing up against you, but…You felt a sudden rush of emotion, but you could see Mark’s car now, and you decided not to bring up what you had been thinking the entire time.

“So-“

“I’m sorry I’m leaving you.” The words surprised you, even though it was something both of you had been holding back the entire time. “I’m sorry I have to do this.”

“Don’t be silly.” You were standing in front of him now, the white streetlights illuminating every line on his face, too scared to look into his eyes. “You have to do it, right? And, you should be proud of yourself. It’s hard work you are willing to dedicate yourself to for a while. And, I can always take care of myself.”

“You have Mark.”

“No, I can take care of myself.” You nodded as if you were trying to convince yourself instead of just him. Your eyes watered, working against every restraint you had. “Please, just…it will be fine. I will still see you. Just, not as often. But you’ll still be here.” He held both your hands, bringing them to his chest, and you were looking at your shoes, watching them get blurrier, feeling him pull your body towards his.

You couldn’t do it. Not for the last time.

“Bye.” You let go of his hands, turning swiftly around and walking towards the parked car at a pace that seemed closer to running.

The warmth enveloped you, and you hastily rubbed off the tears, almost embarrassed at the thought of crying in front of him. Both of them. “H-hey, Mark.”

“You okay?” You nodded, and he brought your hand to his lips, lightly pecking it before he shifted gears.

∞

The apartment was quiet at first, as if it already sensed the loss of one tenant. “Just squeezing past, babe.” Mark’s shoulder brushed yours as the keys jangled in his fingers, his steps retreating towards the bathroom. You walked over to the couch, looking at the empty cake box, the one Doyoung had bought to celebrate. The cake crumbs that littered the floor, the frosting on the couch – you didn’t even have the heart to be mad.

“Is that frosting…on the couch?”

You chuckled weakly, sniffling. “Yeah. I thought I told Jungwoo not to make a mess.”

“You didn’t. You’re so quiet around the boys. So shy.” Mark’s breath tickled your neck, his lips grazing the skin hidden underneath your cardigan. He kissed you gently, bringing one hand to your shoulder, the one he had brushed. “It’s what I love about you.”

You smiled, watching Mark’s shadow cover you as he moved to sit next to you on the couch. “What a mess. This isn’t driving you crazy?” You shook your head, but you smiled, a little bit more genuine this time. Curling up next to Mark, you basked in the heat of his body. He pressed his nose to the top of your head, inhaling your scent. “You smell good.”

“You trying to get laid, Lee?” You felt his chest shake as he laughed, both a little awkwardly and without holding back, like he always did. You thought of all the times you fell asleep in his lap, feeling him stroke your body soothingly as you both waited for Taeyong to get home.

You sat up, turning, looking deep into Mark’s eyes. “I love you.” You kissed him, pulling his bottom lip with your mouth as you pulled away. He ran his hands up your back, connecting lips as you climbed onto his lap, so quick to bring your body against his. He held your hips in place when you stared to move, groaning softly as he pulled away from your mouth. “Are you sure?”

“What, am I sure I love you?”

“No, I mean,” he gasped shortly when you kissed his collarbone, a spot only you knew how to tease. “Easy, baby. I mean, are you okay with doing it tonight?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Your voice came out sharper than you intended, and you hated yourself in that moment for ruining it all. Desperate to stop him from continuing, you shut him up with a kiss, moving his hands from your hips so you could grind against his growing bulge. Your fingers in his hair, you dug your knees on the couch so you could push your chest onto his face. He moaned this time, tugging at the ends of your hoodie to signal you to take it off. You hissed when the cold hit your bare torso, Mark unhooking your bra clasp as you shivered. “You cold, sweetheart?” You nodded, but you were sitting back onto his lap, both of you shrugging off your bottoms as you talked. The cold drew goosebumps on your skin, but you felt wet and hot in the pits of your stomach.

“Fuck, so tight.” Mark threw his head back as you cried out, feeling the stretch harder than you remembered. He held you in place with a hand on the small of your back, another on your thigh. “Shhh. Come closer to me. Good girl.” He continued praising you as you sunk deeper onto his length, inches buried inside you. “W-wait.” You pressed a hand to his stomach, warning him not to move as you scrunched your eyes shut. “So fucking big.” Mark laughed, moving your hand away and bringing your chest closer to his mouth. As he licked and nipped at your body, you began to relax, your breath quickening with every passing second. His dick jumped inside you, making you whimper. “You ready, sweet girl?”

You tasted the tears before you felt them, streaked down your face. “Please.” you begged, and he began to thrust up into you. “Fuck, Mark, M-Mark!” Your voice carried through the apartment as he rolled his hips into you. “Come on, baby, that’s it. You’re our good girl, right?” You sobbed, bringing one hand to your mouth to quieten yourself, but he pulled the hand away. “If you’re gonna cum, you better do it screaming my name. You understand?” He held your chin into place. “Use your words.”

“Yes, yes, p-please. Fuck,” You gasped, feeling the ripples of pleasure run through your body. “I’m close! Please, Mark, can I-“

“Yeah, good girl, baby. I’m close too.” His voice was raspy, his thrusts sloppy as he reached his own high. You shut your eyes, feeling your thighs constrict as you came. You breathed heavily, the tears still running down your face. When the ringing sound stopped post-orgasm, you heard yourself crying.

“Hey, hey. You did well, sweetheart. It’s okay, I’m right here.” You nodded, feeling your body slump against him. “Can I pull out? Does it hurt? I didn’t hurt you, right?”

You looked into his eyes, feeling the way he held you so securely in his arms. “I miss him. I miss the three of us. I know it’s silly, because it technically hasn’t happened yet, but,” you sighed. “I didn’t know how hard it would be until it really happened.”

Mark hummed in agreement, wiping away your tears. “Of course. That’s not silly. And, I love you too, okay? I’m here for you.” You wrapped your arms around his body, breathing in his scent, feeling Mark pull your hoodie around the both of you. “You never hurt me, Mark.”

∞

You both woke up with a jolt when the knocking started. You climbed off Mark as your eyes shot open, and the both of you started frantically dressing, as if the person had entered straight away. “Who’s coming over so late?” Mark grumbled.

“Hopefully Jungwoo to clean the couch.” You muttered, but Mark was rushing to open the door after peeking through the peephole, and you frowned.

“Hyung.”

You knew it was him. But you couldn’t even move. In that moment, you were frozen in time.

“Hi, jagi.” His body stood looming over yours, his face red from the cold outside. You didn’t know what to say, rubbing the itch on one of your ankles to kill time.

“You’re…you’re here.”

“Yeah. It’s my apartment too, right?” He smirked. “Why, is the Anpanman look enough to make you forget me?” You laughed, sniffling, hitting him lightly on the chest. You noticed Mark raise an eyebrow, left out of the inside joke. Your stomach churned, your heart pining for a loss that suddenly was not lost, and it all felt so out of place.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” He bent over to kiss you, bringing both of his icy hands to your face, but you didn’t care. The kiss was everything, and you brought your bodies over to the wall as you continued, one of his legs now in between yours. “Fuck, I think…I’m gonna miss you so bad.”

“You’ll live.” You scoffed, pushing him away. He laughed, the smile lines on his face making your heart soar. “I don’t think I’m gonna miss these stupid jokes.”

He kissed your forehead. “I think you will.” You rolled your eyes, but he was right. As always. You ran a hand up his chest, then, underneath the hoodie he was wearing. You gasped in an exaggerated, ditsy way, making your voice airy on purpose. “Officer, I think you’re pretty hard right now.”

Taeyong smirked, his eyes darkening as he gripped the wrist of your wandering hand. “Oh yeah? You think you know me so well? Wanna play that game?” In the corner of your eye, you watched Mark’s figure step closer. “She already did, Hyung.” He pushed his tongue on the side of his cheek, and you fluttered your eyelashes at Taeyong, feigning innocence. “I didn’t do anything. He’s lying.”

“Oh?” Mark looked pissed, and you only giggled in response. Taeyong brought his face closer to yours. “If I find out you’ve been lying, you’re done for. Now, on your knees.” You complied, seconds later being met with Taeyong’s length springing out of his boxers. You covered his tip with your mouth, but you felt your hair being yanked backwards and a slap on your face. “Did I say anything yet? Dirty slut.” Mark’s grip on your hair didn’t falter, and you whined. “If you want to suck me so bad, you better be ready to beg for it.”

“Mmm, please. Please let me taste you, Daddy. Please, I’ll be good.” Mark’s other hand travelled under your chin, tilting your head up almost uncomfortably, making you yelp. “Tap him if it’s too much, okay?” You nodded in response, and as soon as you did, Mark’s thumb pressed hard on your bottom lip, prying your jaw open. Taeyong thrusted inside your open mouth, guttural groans leaving him as he did. Tears sprung to your eyes at the sudden intrusion, the apartment now filled with the sounds of you violently gagging on dick. Your fists clenched by your sides. “Pretty cockwhore, aren’t you?” Mark whistled lowly, making you squeeze your legs in embarrassment. “Ah, so you like being our nasty little thing. As expected.” You shook your head, but he only tightened his grip, laughing almost cruelly in response. Taeyong pulled out when he heard you choking, inhaling air as soon as his tip left your mouth. “Not so talkative now, are you, pretty?” Your voice raspy as you spoke, you opened your mouth wider, sticking your tongue out. “Daddy’s little whore, yeah?” You could only hum in response as Mark held you still, Taeyong jerking himself off on your tongue. You swallowed the cum in your mouth, letting some of it drool out of your mouth. Taeyong bent over, spreading it over your chin, mixed with your drool. “Go and bend over the couch.” You went to nod once more, but he slapped your face. “Words.”

“Y-yes, T-Taeyongie.” You only used that when you were floating away, letting yourself go, and to be honest, you were surprised it had happened so soon. As you bent over the couch, you had an inkling that they were surprised too. You felt Taeyong’s hands on your sides, and you jumped. “Sorry, jagi. Is this still okay?”

“Uh-huh.” You felt wetness pool in between your legs. “Please, f-fuck me. Before, what happened…well, Markie…I’m sorry I lied, Daddy.” You heard Taeyong shushing you. “I want you to enjoy yourself, beautiful. Okay? Tell me if this is too much.” You sighed, relaxing when you felt Taeyong rub up your back, pressing hard in the way that you liked. Under his hands, you felt safe. Calm. Honest.

“C-Can we go to the bedroom? I don’t like this position.”

Your body burned, even though your shared bedroom was freezing tonight. “Fuck, it’s cold in here.” Taeyong held you close to your body, as if he never wanted to let go.

As the three of you sat on the edge of the bed, you began to ugly cry. Taeyong rubbed your back as you shook, Mark taking a tissue to wipe your chin. “Was it too much? Baby?” You didn’t know who was speaking, but you held both their hands, unable to stop the tears from falling. “No, its just that,” you rubbed your face harshly, feeling the days makeup rub off on your hand. “This is all so fucking dumb. I’m sorry, but, I don’t want you to leave. I don’t care if that makes me a bad person.” Taeyong laughed as he held your head in both his hands, pulling you into his body. Mark ran his hands soothingly up your thighs. “I think I love this side of you, actually.”

You smiled, remembering your conversation only a while ago. “Sorry I’m ruining everything.”

“Sorry but, you must be fucking crazy if you think that’s true for even a second.” Unlocking yourself from Taeyong’s embrace, you exaggerate lifting your hands up in surrender. “Okay, relax, Mark. Don’t call a woman crazy.”

“Especially not a horny one.” You snorted at this, making both of them laugh. Sighing, you tried to appear mad or even annoyed. But you hadn’t felt more free in days.

He was right. You were going to miss these stupid jokes.

The three of you rolled onto the bed, you straddling Taeyong while Mark left noisy kisses down the sides of your neck from behind. “I want you both inside me. Please.” You moaned as Mark squeezed your boob from under your shirt, your head on his shoulder as Taeyong pulled your panties down, the three of you momentarily and, almost comically, struggling with taking them all the way off.

Your hands splayed across Taeyong’s bare chest, you bent over to kiss him. “I’ll miss you.” You whispered against his skin, and he squeezed the outside of your thigh in response. As Mark sheathed himself inside you for the second time that night, he began to thrust straight away. “Still fits like a fucking sleeve, so fucking good.” Your breath quickened as your clit rolled against Taeyong’s bare cock, your moans thickening as you watched Taeyong lie beneath you. “You ready, my love?” You nodded furiously, Mark holding onto you with an arm across your shoulders, pressing your body flush against his. Both men guided you onto Taeyong’s length, the stretch now burning, firecrackers exploding in your stomach. “Fuck! Oh fuck!” You couldn’t breathe, pulling at Mark’s arm, slowly registering him shushing you in your ear. “Relax, baby girl. You’re doing so well. Almost there.” Taeyong groaned in pleasure, shifting the tiniest bit, which made you yelp. The feeling was so unfamiliar, and your heart pounded at the new sensations. “Please, don’t move yet.” Taeyong rubbed circles on your clit, watching your face carefully.

“Nghh, ahh…” The feeling of both of them inside you was starting to choke you from the inside, deliciously bringing you close to a release. “Wait, Daddy, don’t-“ You squealed as you squirted, your clit throbbing from the aftermath. “Shit, I don’t know if I can-“

“You can cum again, pretty. I know you can.” You moaned, feeling both of them bump against each other and into your walls inside you, wet and messy. “Oh my god, oh my…” you babbled, holding onto anything as they thrusted relentlessly, both their timing desperate and rocky. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum!”

“Cum for us, jagi, that’s it.” Taeyong’s voice rose in pitch, and you heard Mark groaning in your ear, pressing your upper body closer to his. You came for the second time, gasping for air, hips rolling without permission over both their cocks. You slumped over Taeyong after, Mark pulling out and resting next to you both on the bed.

[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.

[phoxphenex]

YN AND DOYOUNG ENDGAME PLS

bff taeyong angst pt 6

i think this may be the last part in the series unless someone has a detailed request on what you want to see next/instead <3

[acescavern]

END TO START - LEE TAEYONG X READER

Navi - M.list

Pairing: Soulmate!Johnny x Soulmate! reader, Taeyong x reader. ( Ft Mark, Jungwoo, Ten, Jaehyun, Taeil, Yuta. Mentions Jaemin once.)

Genre: Heavy angst my guys, soulmates au, neo frat au, university au, fluff, Hanahaki Soulmate trope.

Synopsis: Taeyong had been perfectly happy to sit back and watch you and Johnny be together. However, when he starts to notice certain behaviors that are all too familiar, he finds himself unable to watch you slowly die. Just because Johnny may not love you anymore... doesn't mean Taeyong doesn't love you either.

wc: 4.9k

Warnings: Heavy angst, Blood, Mentions of death, suffering, choking, johnny is unfaithful, it's a Hanahaki au so they basically cough up dead and thorned flowers. It's not a graphic description but there are descriptions of pain too, mentions of weight loss due to being unwell, Unrequited love, hurt, Taeyong's been in love with the reader since before her and Johnny got together, heavy rejection, soulmate rejection ( Just because i have written this does NOT mean that i think any one of the nct members would cheat or act thi way. this is pure FICTION.) Please let me know if i have missed any warnings

Note: Hi! I have a few fics in the works but I'm worried I wont get them done for Halloween. So, I am blessing you with this heart-breaking fic. I wanted to release this fic early as a thank you for all your love on Operation Rizz! Now, this is the same frat universe as all my other NCT fics. they can all be read as stand alone though, so don't worry! Any feedback is once again appreciated. I do not own the concept of Hanahaki.

Likes and reblogs are appreciated

Soulmates were supposed to be someone's everything—the one person who was meant specifically for them. Someone you can lean on and cherish, who would dote and adore you. Someone to dish out as much love to you as you unto them. To stay by your side and grow old together. However, some people are already at that stage when they meet their destined person. There was also the worry of some people not having a soulmate. Legend says that only the blessed are gifted with such. 

Gifted? Yes. To many, the Soulmate system is a curse - depending on what type you are assigned to. Tattoos? Easy. Mind reading? Okay a little more difficult. Red string? That practically takes you straight to them.  Eternal life? Near impossible! You could spend many years with someone you thought was a soulmate only to see a wrinkle and realize you aren’t made for each other at all. Seeing things in black and white only to suddenly be overwhelmed with color at a music festival and not know who the hell you’d bumped into in that massive crowd that could possibly be your soulmate. Not everyone even had a soulmate, they could be with whoever they wanted without consequences. 

But there was one type in particular that nobody wanted. Hanahaki. Named after the fictional Japanese Hanahaki Disease. It comes from the Japanese words Hana - meaning flower and Hakimasu - quite literally meaning, to throw up. 

In a soulmate's case, when they first meet each other a seed is awakened. It grows thorned roses - the flowers of love - cradling the person’s heart and twining around inside their lungs. For the most part, other than the occasional flutter and heartburn, it goes unnoticeable. So long as the soulmate reciprocates the feelings of love. But, should one soulmate start to fall out of love? The other will suffer terribly. The flowers will die, the spikey stems squeezing at the organs they were once gently caressing with love. Crushing in their anguish.

Of course, unlike the other soulmate types, there are two ways out of Hanahaki... Let the weight of the unreciprocated love drag on painfully until you die, or convince your health insurance to accept the cost of the operation to remove the offending plants. However, by the time one realizes they are soulmates, it is likely that the bond has already been unreciprocated. 

Taeyong knew this. He knew this because it happened to him. He had once been on the receiving end of the agonizing scratch of dead rose stems climbing up his throat in a mess of blood and wilted petals. Taeyong had nearly died. He recognized the signs clearly and that was the reason he was so shocked to see them in who he did. 

Johnny’s soulmate.

Taeyong first took notice when you walked through the door of the club. A celebration night to celebrate the frat’s anniversary alongside Taeyong’s new choreographer position in the dance studio he works in. Your face had a slightly paler tone and although you were doing a good job at keeping your breathing even… Taeyong recognized the telltale signs of a wince when you took the air in too harshly. 

But when he saw Johnny approach you and press a loving kiss to your forehead, he scolded himself for thinking such things. Taeyong knew something was up though, your smile didn’t meet your eyes and when you congratulated him with a hug, he swore he could feel your body tremble. 

He tried not to worry too much throughout the night but when he saw Johnny by the bar, his charming smile dazzled at some sorority girls that had been invited… Taeyong wondered where you’d gone. The disappointment within him only grew when he watched his best friend and frat brother go home with one of them. 

So, maybe his suspicions were correct. A few weeks passed and he’d not seen a glimpse of you, Johnny hadn’t even uttered your name. The rapper hadn’t had time to sit him down and ask him about the incident. Until now. 

Taeyong dabbed the sweat from his brow with the neckline of his shirt, swiping his water bottle from the floor. He shuffled toward his friend, watching as he grinned at his phone as he typed. He was talking to someone and Taeyong only hoped it was you. That you’d both mended things to stop it getting worse. The thought of it all being a misunderstanding had a relieved smile spreading across his face as he settled on the floor next to Johnny. 

“You texting ____? Tell her I said Hey.” Taeyong said, twisting the cap off his drink to take a swig. Taeyong was almost taken aback at the irritated flash that crossed Johnny’s expression at the mention of your name. 

If Taeyong wasn’t so observant, he would have missed it. Johnny shook his head, swiftly locking his phone when his leader went to peer over his shoulder. “It’s not. It’s Yuki.” 

Taeyong’s eyebrows scrunched, posture freezing for a moment. “The sorority girl you went home with?” He tried to keep his tone level. Memories of the same thing happening to himself reoccur in his mind. “What about ____?” The question hung awkwardly in the air, Johnny staring at Taeyong as if he’d asked something ridiculous. 

“What about her?” He shrugged. “Just because I do stupid things, doesn't mean I don’t love her. She’s my soulmate.” He paused, an almost defeated sigh sagging at his shoulders. “The only one I got.” 

Taeyong took notice of the slight bitterness in his words. Almost as if he didn’t realize that he did it. “Do you?” 

Johnny rubbed at the back of his neck, his mouth opening but no words coming out. Once again, a defeated shrug of his shoulders. “Yeah… yes.” He cleared his throat as his voice broke. “I’m sure we’d of noticed by now if I hadn’t.”  Johnny left no room for debate, standing up with a clap of his hands to suggest they continue their lacrosse practice.

You knew. You knew Johnny’s feelings for you were dwindling. You were reminded every time you coughed. Reminded by the way your breath left you in an agonizing squeeze when Johnny would kiss your forehead.  

But, even though you knew… it didn’t make you love him any less. You knew what he got up to when your nights weren't spent together. You didn’t do a thing, didn’t bring it up. You almost tried to ignore it. You loved Johnny. You always would. And, as long as you continued to love him, he wouldn’t have the same fate as you. You would never wish this pain on him even if he was the cause. 

You wished you’d heeded Mark’s seemingly lighthearted warning at the beginning of your relationship. ‘He’s one of my closest friends but he doesn’t always do the right thing, just… please be careful.’ Mark had said one evening. You hadn’t truly understood why he had said it, nor did you get to question him before Johnny had slid his arm around your middle. 

You understood perfectly now. Especially as a sharp tickle wheezed in the back of your throat, your eyes discreetly scanning the new text message from your seat at the very back row of English lit class. ‘Can we rain check date night again? Coach is being a hardass and wants us to stay late.’ For the third week running, the same excuse. Sure, you’d seen Johnny. But Thursday was always date night. Something you’d both stuck to like glue once before. 

Pain twisted in your chest, your breath rough. You brought the sleeve of your hoodie to your mouth, attempting a discreet cough. It didn’t do anything for you, the feeling like you’d swallowed razorblades. The world felt like it was spinning for a moment and you had to close your eyes and count to ten to steady it again. 

One look at your sleeve had you frowning. The next stage had started. You’d read about this. Discoloured petals. You’d only coughed up one but one was enough for you to be sure. With one last attempt at clearing your throat, you brushed the blackened petal to the ground. 

Taeyong shared this class with you. Whilst he didn’t often sit next to you, he was mostly always on the same row. Not many people occupied the back row and so, when he heard the muffled hack come from your direction he had looked over, shoulders tensing as he watched you. 

He approached you at the end of class, watching your sluggish movements as you shoved your laptop back into your bag. “____, Are you alright?” He asked softly, noting the sheen of sickly sweat coasting your forehead. 

Lips pressed firmly together, you nodded. You were certain if you opened your mouth you'd start coughing and choking again but you didn’t want to be rude. “I’m fine.” Bad idea. “Sorry, Yong, I gotta go-” Taeyong had never heard your voice so scratchy and coarse. He had also never seen you flee so quickly before he could even open his mouth, your notepad falling from your unzipped bag as you vanished before his eyes. 

As he knelt down to collect it from the ground, his fingers made contact with a velvety, withered texture. 

A blackened rose petal. 

 The next time Taeyong saw you, you were much worse than he could have imagined. He had only turned up at your apartment because he assumed Johnny had left his phone at your place. He couldn’t really understand the rushed words of ‘Shit! I left my phone at her place, I’m already late!’ When Taeyong offered to go and get it, he naturally thought of your place. 

So when you answered the door, he was standing frozen at the sight of you. Your eyes had bags under them that would put JFK airport to shame. Your complexion was grey, lips cracked and dry. Taeyong could definitely see you’d lost some weight too, your knitted sweater nearly slipping off one shoulder. His gaze caught onto the marks along your neck, long red streaks almost looking like you had been clawing at it in your agony. Your winced call of his name kicked his brain into gear. 

“Now isn’t a good ti-” His hands flew out to rub and pat your back as your words were interrupted. 

Taeyong’s heart broke as he watched you struggle. You couldn’t get your breath, your face turning red from the strenuosity. Taeyong backed you into your apartment, kicking the door closed behind him. He sat you on your couch, disappearing from view for a moment.

You didn’t even take note of what exactly was being thrust under your nose, only that it would catch what your body rejected. One of his hands held the bucket, the other sweeping your hair away from your face. It was all too familiar for him. Except for Taeyong, he had done it alone. 

“It’s okay, ____” He hushed, palm flattened over your back to rub comforting circles. “Breath through your nose and count to ten. It helps.” 

You did as such, shoulders relaxing as the air finally seeped into your lungs. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, sighing at the crimson residue that was becoming all too familiar. You opened your mouth to speak, only to be gently hushed once more. 

“It’s okay, it’ll hurt too much if you talk.” He set the bucket down on the side table. “You should get yourself some grapeseed oil. A teaspoon a day should at least prevent the attacks so often.” Taeyong didn’t look at you as he spoke, his hands busying themselves with opening the small drawer to your coffee table in search of tissues. 

“You mean this?” You rasped, pulling the small droplet bottle from your pocket, and setting it down on the surface before you. Taeyong’s eyebrows creased. 

It was the exact same bottle he was sure he had. Though, catching sight of the label on the bottle he knew it was his bottle. ‘Taeyong’  scribbled messily on the labeled sticker. He looked at you expectantly. 

“Johnny gave it to me.” Just uttering his name sent a pang of hurt through you, a wave of emotion rippling from your jaw to the tips of your toes. 

Taeyong understood immediately, a deep sigh resonating as he nodded once. “He knows then.” To which you nodded, eyes fixed on your lap. 

He had never seen you cry, and he would hate to admit it but your eyes looked pretty when you did. It was as if the glaze of tears enhanced the colors of your iris. “He doesn’t know it’s this bad. He thinks the tickle has just started.” 

“____, you’re dying and you’re telling me Johnny hasn’t noticed yet?” To say that Taeyong was in disbelief was an understatement. The new knowledge that Johnny knew now had floored him. 

Why? Because Johnny hadn’t once let it show. Taeyong had been around the guy all week and he was still the happy comedic genius he always was. Not a hint of anything bothering him. 

“Yong, It’s okay. I..” You drew your knees up to your chest, patting the spot next to you for him. “I’ve come to terms with it.” 

“Come to terms with it?!” He spluttered. “____, you are in your twenties! You can’t be okay with dying in your twenties.” His hand raked through his hair, eyes blinking rapidly like he couldn't come to terms with how calm you looked right now. 

Taeyong could feel the anger bubbling up in his chest, his gaze hardening as he addressed you once more. “You know he’s been seeing her too, don’t you?”

You were silent, shame eating at your subconscious. “If I ignore it then he won’t have to be like this too.” 

Taeyong sprung up to his feet. “Wake up! He’s out there living his life with no regrets and you’re the one to suffer? I can’t…” He shook his head, shoving his clenched fists into his pockets. “I’m sorry, I just-” With one last shake of his head, Taeyong left you there. The slam of your front door announcing his absence.

Johnny remembered the conversation between the two of you very clearly. He was convinced he still loved you a lot. Just not in the way you need. At first, he thought it was doubt, but as time went on he started to notice the dry tickly cough and the abundance of petals scattered in your trash. He was sure it wasn’t harmful yet, certain that he still held the love in his heart for you. 

Johnny didn’t love Yuki. She was fun. She was different. She wasn’t you. He could spend time with her without any strings attached. It was freeing, knowing he wasn't destined to be with her no matter what. 

He felt guilt at first. He didn’t like lying to you, but it was for his own selfish gain that he did. Johnny had seen Taeyong go through the pain and near death of a soulmate falling out of love, he didn’t want that for himself. Johnny had too much to live for, as arrogant and self-centred as that sounded. 

 He remembered what you said when he gave you the vial of grapeseed oil, how your shaky hands had placed over his own. How you told him it was okay, it wasn’t his fault. But Johnny couldn’t help but think it was. Johnny tried so hard to make himself love you still. Your words of comfort swirled in his mind and kept him up at night. ‘Nobody can help who they do and don’t love. Feelings change, People don’t’ You’d said to him.

Johnny felt ashamed. Being unfaithful to you whilst you still loved him with every ounce of your soul. Deep down, Johnny knew you only had two options he just hoped you made a decision before it was too late. 

Taeyong had been seen by barely anyone all week. It was as if he was attending his classes and then picking up every extra shift or odd job imaginable. The Neos were even more shocked when Mark slapped a flier down on the dining table ping pong table in front of some of the brothers. A for sale flier, advertising their frat leader’s motorcycle. The very same one that he cherished and spent a fortune to modify. 

“Do you think he’s in debt?” Jungwoo frowned, setting his beer on the table. 

That question alone earned a chortled laugh. “Woo, we’re in university. We’re all in debt.” Yuta clapped him on the back. “But, on a serious note, He’s been acting super weird lately.” 

Everyone launched into debate, trying to determine why Taeyong would be selling his pride and joy so suddenly. Conversation ceased when the front door opened and the man in question shuffled into the open-plan living space with an exhausted wave. 

“Ty, are you actually selling the bandit?” The question came from Taeil, Neo frat’s oldest member. 

Taeyong moved through the living area, taking a seat at one of the beanbags littered around the table. “Already sold it.” He bobbed his head in a nod. 

It earned him many concerned looks. “Are you in trouble or something? Are you trying to cover the water bill from when Mark broke the faucet?” 

“No, Jae. I’m not in trouble. It’s not for me.”  He reassured, his voice dying down quietly. “It’s for ____.” 

Everyone stopped. Mark locked his phone, Yuta stopped chipping at his nail polish, and Taeil nearly spat out his beer. Jaehyun and Jungwoo were already staring at him. 

“Why?”

Taeyong took a deep breath, anticipating the question.It didn’t take long for him to catch them up to speed.  “You haven’t noticed? I can’t watch her die. Even if she’s come to terms with it.” 

“She’s not been to class for a few weeks. Professor Choi just straight-up skips over her name now. I’m guessing they know.” Jaehyun hummed. 

“Hm, Jaemin said he saw her last week on his midnight ramen run.” Mark recalled, “Said she looked like something out of living dead.” 

“Mark,” Taeyong gave him a warning look. The younger just shrugged his shoulders. “I’m going to book the operation for her. She doesn’t know. I just need the deposit. After that, it’s monthly payments. I can scrape enough together for the monthly just fine.” He looked pained. “Whenever I see her, it’s like I’m watching myself go through it again.” 

One by one, Jaehyun, Mark, Jungwoo, Yuta, and Taeil offered their help. 

The six of them didn’t make it known what their plans were but soon enough, after Taeyong had put what he had already saved with what the others offered, it was enough. He rocked up to the private medical center, cash in an envelope that was tucked neatly within the inside pocket of his jacket. 

Taeyong was pleasantly surprised that he was allowed to schedule and pay the deposit on your behalf. Acting on best interest. The receptionist did stress that you needed to fill in the form and sign consent upon arrival but Taeyong was more pleased that he was giving you a chance at life. That there was a possibility that you could carry on.

What he didn’t expect, was your immediate refusal when he brought the leaflet and forms over to your apartment the following morning. The smile dropped from his face as you tried to hide away from him.  ‘He could die.’ You’d cried at him. And whilst it had been proven he wouldn't, you were convinced. 

“He won’t, ____.” Taeyong begged. “Please, you can’t just accept this.” The bed dipped as he sat on the edge. The many times he had visited you now, you had always been. The last time you got up to open the door, Taeyong honestly worried that you would pass away right there on the doorstep. He took your spare key after that. 

Taeyong’s gentle fingers lifted the damp wash cloth from the bowl at your bedside, running the cool material over your brow and cheeks. A light smile twitched at the corner of your lips, the sensation easing your fever, only a little but it was better than before. He knew he wasn’t going to get many more words from you this evening. You’d exhausted yourself already for the evening. Taeyong was just content enough to sit here and care for you. 

Honestly, before it was known that you were Johnny’s soulmate, Taeyong had hoped you’d notice him. He had often found himself wishing that it wouldn’t last so he could at least have a shot with you. His hopes were crushed when Johnny had run through the fraternity declaring you were both soulmates. Taeyong had made peace with the idea that maybe he was meant to be alone, satisfied just by seeing you whenever Johnny brought you over to hang out. 

He never wished for this, though. 

Tenderest of touches brushed your hair away from where it had clung to your forehead. Taeyong clicking on the standing fan in an attempt to offer you some cool relief. “Trust me, ____.” He whispered, voice brittle. “I went through this.” His confession had your right eye cracking open. 

“Back in the first year,” Taeyong recalled. “Watching you and Johnny go through this… it’s like a mirror. I nearly died,” He picked up your hand, engulfing it in both of his own. “I refused the operation until it was nearly too late. For the same reason, actually.” 

Your fingers twitched in his own, your index finger hooking around his thumb to offer comfort. You have suspected Taeyong had some close experience with this. Especially in the way he always seemed to understand your pain, the sad gazes, and his drive to help you. You had never expected that he would be the one in your position though. The meer thought had tears welling up in your eyes. You seemed to cry a lot around the man these days. 

“He didn’t die though. Apparently, he just… coughed up the root.” He lifted your hand, the ghosting feeling of his lips against your knuckles. “I promise you, Johnny won’t die… At least think about it.” To which you nodded in agreement. 

Taeyong made you soup, your favorite kind. You weren’t even sure how he knew it was your favorite but he did. He parted from you with a lingering kiss to your hairline. Just like every night. This form of unrequited love seemed to of hurt him more than his last. 

He’d left the forms and leaflets on the empty bed space by your feet.

You’d asked Taeyong not to come over for the last four days. As worried as he was, he had to respect your wishes. You didn’t want him to see your sudden decline as you entered the last stage of the rejection. Meaning, that Johnny had almost fallen completely out of love with you now. 

You were expecting it, Taeyong too. You and Johnny had broken things off the last time you saw each other. Both of you doing so without even having to clarify the matter. He was free. Almost. 

Taeyong had been stressed all week, even his frat brothers had given him a wide berth. Many put it down to the lacrosse game the pending evening. Only a select few really knew that it was because today was the same day Taeyong had scheduled for your surgery. 

He hadn’t known it was the same day as the game, Jungwoo uttering the words with caution the day before. Taeyong swore to himself that he thought he booked it for next week. He didn’t even know if you were going to accept it… Any time he brought it up you tended to change the subject. 

How Taeyong managed to even pass the ball with steady swings amazed even himself, his hands hadn’t stopped shaking. He had nearly skipped the game in favor of being with you, but he knew he couldn’t.  The game had gone smoothly, they were winning by one. In fact, Johnny had to take the penalty shot. 

The whole field waited on bated breath, all eyes on Johnny as he just stood there, his expression morphed in such a way that Taeyong exchanged a look with Jaehyun.

“Seo! Take the damn shot already!” The coach didn’t even get through his ending word before Johnny’s form curled over, knees slamming into the ground. 

Taeyong rushed over as his friend tore off his helmet and spat his mouthguard to the ground. He would worry about that later. Taeyong slid to his knees beside Johnny, his own helmet crashing to the ground out of his grip. 

Johnny had never felt such pain. His airways were burning. The sensation in his chest felt like all the oxygen was being torn from him. The team crowded around him, blocking anyone else's view of the scene.  A choked cough left his throat, a shout of agony following after. Petals. Blood. Stems.  The flower was unwinding itself, pulling at the roots from within his chest and lungs. 

The team managed to maneuver Johnny back to the locker rooms, it took four of them to carry him but soon the male was slumped against the tiles of the showers. Taeyong was beside him once again. “Cough it up Johnny, you’ll do more damage if you don’t.” He tugged Johnny’s arm to sit him forward, his fist thumping down in the center of his back. “Johnny, come on!” 

To say Taeyong was relieved when Johnny finally started coughing again was an understatement. “You gotta carry it on, it’ll hurt but I’ve got you.” He pleaded over the sound of his friend’s cries and chokes. 

Johnny doesn’t know how long he continuously coughed for. All he knew was the last one to shake through his body finally offered him release, Taeyong tugging him away from the mangled mix of plant and blood only to rip him, Johnny, from his shock-induced state by shoving him under the freezing cold shower stream - kit and all. 

A big, clear breath left him. 

“What the fuck, John?” Ten peaked his head around the corner, having raced in after the team to check on his best friend. 

“Dude, that's your flower.” Mark grimaced, crouched down next to the offending object. 

The announcement made Johnny’s spine straighten, and Taeyong hung his head. “What does it mean?” Johnny shakily stood, pressing the button to stop the stream of cold water. 

It was fascinating how Johnny already felt better. He felt no pull in his chest, no weakness even after the whole ordeal. He felt new. But if he felt like this… then what had happened to you? The realization of what had happened weighed heavy on his guilt. 

He turned to address the sort of traumatized, faces around him but it wasn’t him that spoke up. It was Taeyong. “It means I need to find ____.” 

Taeyong had raced past his teammates and into the locker room without any further explanation. His phone cramped between his ear and shoulder as he tugged on his sweats at record speed. “C’mon, Petal. Pick up.” He swore to himself, only removing the device from his ear to throw on a t-shirt from his locker. It was a term of endearment he had taken to calling you of late, though quite often when you were too dazed to notice. 

He ignored the looks of confusion from his friends. Well, from those other than Mark and Jaehyun. From the look on Johnny’s face, he was still piecing things together. Taeyong didn’t have time for that, snatching the keys for the beat-up Honda he had gotten recently and sprinting from the room. 

Taeyong continued to call you on the way to your apartment. He had just hoped you’d gotten yourself to the appointment. He didn’t want to think about the possibility of losing you like this. He found himself afraid to enter your building, scared of what he may find. His head thumped against the steering wheel, eyes burning with unshed tears. You had to be okay. 

His phone buzzed, body jumped when he saw your name flash on the screen. He swiped to answer, bringing it up to his ear with a relieved sigh. “____.” He listened to your breathing for a split second, registering the steady beeps in the background. 

“Is he alive?” Your tone was filled with urgency but your voice was clearer than Taeyong had heard in weeks. It had a relieved laugh bubbling from his chest, salty droplets cascading down his cheeks and leaving his tear ducts with the tension in him. 

“He’s fine.” He sniffled, rubbing at his face. “ Petal, you’re okay. I tho-” You interrupted him with a soothing call of his name. 

“You were right.” He listened to you pause, the sounds of you sipping through a straw present in the receiver. “There are things I do have to live for.” You spoke quietly. “The first one being myself.” 

He hummed in agreement, starting up the car again. “Yeah? I’ll be there soon and you can tell me all about the second, Petal.” He was rewarded with a breathy laugh. “What?”

“Petal.” You murmured, Taeyong could hear the slumber lingering back into your tone. 

“Get some rest. I’ll be there soon.” He was about to pull the phone away from his ear when you quietly called his name again. 

“Yes?” He hummed, clicking the hands-free and setting the phone into the holder on the dash. 

“Can I tell you my second reason?” 

“What’s that, Petal?” He smiled softly to himself. 

“It’s you.”

©Acescavern - I do not give permission for my works to be copied, translated or reposted

[yongility]

NEO TV # ROCKABYE (taeyong x reader) 2/?.

genre: single dad au, ceo au, fluff, slightly angst, smut.

warnings: adult language, death mentions, idk there's not a lot of warning for this one.

word count: 7k (not proofread!!!)

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

When Taeyong was growing up, he always carried with him the memory of the wonderful family he had, a small yet at the same time, great family. He, his mother, and his father didn't need anyone else. They were always the three of them, and it was more than enough. Sure, his family wasn't always conventional, and there were obviously mistakes here and there, but that would never mean that Taeyong wouldn't be grateful for the life and love his parents provided him.

Taeyong was always a starry-eyed boy. Passionate about everything that interested him. As a child, he went through countless phases trying to discover what he wanted for his future... Would he be the same man as his father? Or would he choose another profession? Would he be a stay-at-home dad and dedicate himself to his family?

Like the hyperactive child he was... he never knew for sure, and if there was an exact word to describe Lee Taeyong, it would surely be unpredictable.

Unpredictable because no one had the slightest idea what the boy's next step would be. Unpredictable because Taeyong changed his opinions every half an hour unless he felt one hundred percent sure about what he was doing. That was Lee Taeyong, that's how his family and friends knew him, and that's how he was formed.

Nevertheless, the boy matured at a fast pace. Without necessarily feeling it present, the pressure regarding his father's company position was looming closer and closer, not explicitly, but it wasn't necessary to be so to know what would become of him once he graduated from university. He could always hear what others said about him: 'Oh, Mrs. Lee's son is a true gentleman, surely his parents will be proud of him' ... 'Will he really take over the Lee company? He's nothing more than a spoiled child who always had everything handed to him on a silver platter.'

There were always different opinions and criticisms from different perspectives. Yes, Taeyong knew he wasn't perfect, he was more than aware of it. Taeyong was human, he had made mistakes, stumbled along the way, but he always tried to put one foot forward and rise from every stumble he had encountered.

He wasn't a relationship guy. He was sure of that. Of course, he had had some teenage romances in his high school days. He had been on a few dates during college, and yes, he had had at least one relationship that had lasted at least a year.

Although this last one was more about social pressure than simply enjoying the company of the girl who was his girlfriend at his twenty-three years. He would never blame Joy and would never speak bad about her; in the end, Joy had been someone with whom he had spent part of his growth and accompanied in various moments, which was when they decided to try some kind of relationship between them and for the good of both families according to his mother. The Lee family and the Park family had been partners for a long time, so what better than to bring together both heirs of their heritage to reinforce both businesses? However, that didn't last long. Only a year, Taeyong appreciated Joy and vice versa, but definitely didn't see any future with her. He tried, he really tried. He wanted to do his best, he wanted to do things right, but he couldn't. He simply couldn't.

And with the pressure from his family and Joy's family, nothing could be contracted.

'Taeyong, we are very happy that our daughter and you are making such great progress, we can't wait to see a ring on my daughter's finger.'

'Taeyong, time is passing and you still haven't knelt before her, you know we can't grow old without seeing you at the altar.'

'Taeyong, today Joy and I were at the mall and we saw a spectacular baby clothing store, you're taking too long! How lovely it would be to already have a little one running through the halls of the house!'

Marriage, family, commitment. It was something that Taeyong didn't think about and didn't want to have at his twenty-three years. Sure, someday he would have to settle down and form his legacy, but he wished it would be with someone he truly loved, with someone he could see his future with and grow old together, but could he ever get all that someday?"

_______________________________________________

First Month.

Week one.

For someone with enough money, Taeyong didn't usually keep his apartment constantly in undergoing renovations. Lee Taeyong was a simple man, he preferred the minimalist and the modest. Nothing extravagant, nothing ostentatious. At the end of the day, there were few times he found himself at home, its only use was just for sleeping, if he had the opportunity to do so.

However, as many things had been changing suddenly in the last few days, it was no news that his apartment would be one of the things involved in one of those changes. So his apartment was now filled with piles of boxes here and there and a few cans of paint waiting to be used.

It would be a long process.

"If someone told me that, that when I return from America, I would be assembling a crib for one of my friends' daughters, I definitely wouldn't believe it," Jaehyun said slowly as he read some instructions.

"Hard to believe, but not impossible," commented Doyoung, snatching the paper from his hands and now reading the instructions.

"It's just that I only left for two weeks! And now I'm an uncle! As far as I know, that process takes nine months," exclaimed Jaehyun exasperatedly.

A thump on his head made him stop and he brought his hand to his neck to rub it as he complained slowly and looked at the cause of that attack.

"It was a nine-month process, idiot. It's just that we didn't find out about it until a little over a week ago," Doyoung told him, looking at him disapprovingly.

After that, and quietly giving up on how to build a crib, they left the room where they were and headed to the small baby carrier that was on the couch with a very peaceful Sun Hee inside it, or at least she seemed to be peaceful.

Doyoung and Jaehyun approached her, who either looked at them or made an attempt to do so, with her eyes wide open and babbling sweetly. The heads of both boys tilted as they watched the little one and her actions, almost as if they were examining her and trying to guess what her next move would be.

May the universe take care of the little one with such uncles she has.

"She looks like Taeyong," murmured Jaehyun.

"Well, of course she looks like him, she's his daughter," Doyoung replied obviously.

"She could look like her mom, who knows," the younger shrugged and continued to watch the little one. Who would have thought that one of their friends would be a father?, who would have thought that the very Lee Taeyong, who loved freedom, would become a father? The little one remained calm for a few more moments, until Doyoung and Jaehyun's gaze that was on her may have made her uncomfortable, because without further ado and letting out a whimper, she began to cry; causing both boys to look at each other and panic as they didn't know what to do next.

"Should I pick her up?" Jaehyun asked alarmed. He had never held a baby before. "Sun Hee? Calm down... calm down Sun Hee... don't cry."

"Where's Taeyong?" asked Doyoung, and the baby's crying became even louder. "Taeyong!"

"Sun Hee, please don't cry," murmured Jaehyun as he looked around, then took the remote control and turned on the TV. "Look! Look Sun Hee, the news! That so interesting, isn't it?"

"You idiot, what does she know about the news," snapped an upset Doyoung as he lightly hit his friend's arm.

"How would I know, I've never had a daughter! Where's Taeyong? Taeyong!" they called again for the attention of the father, who was not present, and the little one began to cry more and more. "Sun Hee, don't cry because I'm also going to cry," commented a very sentimental Jaehyun.

To the misfortune of both boys, Taeyong along with Johnny had gone down to the lobby of the building for a couple of things that would be delivered for the apartment renovation.

Who else but the great Lee Taeyong would leave a baby in the care of TWO adult babies? Nobody else but him.

Doyoung quickly grabbed a toy that looked like a rattle and after seeing his friend entering a great state of panic, he began to shake it trying to get the attention of the little one who seemed not to have precisely an off button, and instead of getting distracted and stopping crying with the noise of her toy, she seemed to become more uncomfortable and start crying once again.

Both friends looked at each other again, defeated. A one-week-old baby had more power over them. They would definitely be ready to be parents in about... thirty years.

"You idiots , what have you done to my princess?" Lee Taeyong questioned once inside his apartment, leaving the boxes he was carrying on the floor and approaching his daughter, lifting her in his arms and making her cry cease once she felt the warmth of her father.

"What did we do to her? What did she do to us!" exclaimed Jaehyun, bringing his hands to his face.

"You're so dramatic, Sun Hee is a sunshine," commented Johnny, approaching his friends and stroking the cheeks of the little one in Taeyong's arms. "Aren't you? You're a very pretty sunshine, Sun Hee, I bet when you grow up you'll be so pretty that everyone will be after you," he said in a high-pitched voice while Sun Hee seemed to be very familiar with the voice of her third uncle, who was making a very small attempt at a smile.

"Look at that, it seems like Sunnie already has favoritism towards one of her uncles," Taeyong said, smiling tenderly as he saw his daughter calmer.

"Johnny her favorite uncle? I'm the godfather!" exclaimed Doyoung offended.

"He's the godfather?" Jaehyun and Johnny asked incredulously, pointing at Doyoung.

Oh no.

Taeyong looked innocently at his friends and smiled slightly once an idea lit up his head.

"Whoever manages to assemble her crib will be her godfather. Isn't that right, Sun Hee?" the little one just babbled while her eyes closed, beginning to drift off to sleep.

He didn't need to repeat his sentence before his friends ran out of the room and ran towards the place that would be Sun Hee's room.

Taeyong laughed and left his little daughter in the baby carrier while gently rocking her.

It will be a long day.

_____________________________________________

First month.

Week three.

If there's one thing people know about Lee Taeyong, it's that he's a dedicated and determined man. A workaholic perhaps, and that might be the reason behind the great success and reputation of his company. Taeyong knew what he was doing, and he was the best at it. His investments always remained clean and on a large scale; any businessman would feel honored to work with the great Lee, or even to have a minimal connection with him. He was well-known in the business world, not just because of who his father was, but because of the great work he had done on his own to achieve everything his companies obtained after his father's retirement. A young man in big business, respected by the world.

That was Lee Taeyong.

He was also a man of routine and hated when it was affected. Over the years and as he grew older, Taeyong realized that the best thing for him was to have a schedule ready for each morning so that things would go more smoothly and efficiently. His days were mostly planned, but it was obvious that there would always be some unexpected event to deal with during the day. However, Taeyong always found a way to handle it as organized as possible.

However, with the arrival of Sun Hee in his life, and what it caused to change completely, his routine had to be terribly affected. He had been aware that this would happen, at least in the first weeks – or months – of Sun Hee's life. At least until he could take her to a daycare or until he could find a nanny he could trust completely to leave the most precious thing in his life in her care.

So for now, he had to play two roles, that of being a father and that of being the CEO of one of Korea's most important companies. Although now that he could see his life from two completely different points of view, he could assure that the first role was by far more difficult than the second.

He had heard a lot about being a father, even his mother had given him a book on how to be a father, he thought it would help, but it really didn't help at all. Being a single father was hard, especially being a first-timer; his mind was in chaos. Of course, he loved Sun Hee, she was his life, his ray of sunshine, but sometimes it was too much to handle, sometimes the diapers didn't fit as nicely as a pretty nurse had taught him... Sometimes Sun Hee didn't want to drink the formula that Taeyong offered her when she was supposed to eat – and according to his mother, maybe it was because the girl needed breast milk, how the hell could Taeyong do that? – Sometimes no matter how much effort he made, Sun Hee wouldn't stop crying.

And that's where he was right now. At three in the morning, with visible dark circles under his eyes, his hair disheveled, barefoot while rocking Sun Hee back and forth in his arms, who seemed to find no peace.

"Shh, Sunnie. What's wrong? You should sleep a little, don't you want to let Daddy rest a bit?"

The day for Taeyong had been difficult; there had been some mishaps in the company that couldn't be dealt with from home, so he had to go there with Sun Hee as his company.

The confused looks from his employees had not been of much help to him at that moment.

Nor had it been of much help that Sun Hee had been whiny all day. Taeyong didn't understand what was going on with his little one, it wasn't that she needed a diaper change, it wasn't that she was hungry... she just spent the day throwing little complaints.

And that had been too much for Taeyong. The pressure of business matters and the responsibility he had as a father became too much.

Sun Hee continued to cry in his arms, and Taeyong felt like he would cry at any moment too.

"Sunnie, please. I don't want us to be kicked out of the building for bothering the neighbors," murmured a very frustrated father. "Calm down, baby, can you do that for me? Can you calm down a bit, huh? Can you do that for Daddy?"

Taeyong stroked his daughter's cheek, who seemed to stop crying and just let out a few small sobs that hopefully would stop in a few seconds.

He sighed and relaxed his body, bringing Sun Hee closer to him.

And maybe... just maybe, he spoke too quickly.

Because as soon as he was relaxed, his daughter started crying again, and this time Taeyong couldn't take it anymore and cried too. He sat on his bed with her in his arms, and a few tears fell from his eyes.

Looking at his daughter and seeing the state she was in, he couldn't help but feel his heart ache. Sun Hee looked so fragile, so small. How could he keep her safe? How could he make everything alright? Oh, how he wished he had come into the world with all the knowledge about how to be a good father in his mind.

"I wish I could know what's wrong with you, Sun Hee, but I can't read your little mind," he murmured between sobs. Obviously, his daughter didn't respond, but rather continued with her act.

His lungs would probably hurt right now with all the crying he had done, and that terrified Taeyong, who stood in his place and walked to the bedside table, where he picked up his phone and entered his contacts list. He didn't exactly know what he was doing or why, but his desperation overpowered him, and in a moment his fingers were dialing the only number he could think of, he just hoped he was doing the right thing.

One tone... two tones...

It's three in the morning, Lee Taeyong, who would answer you at this hour?

Three tones... four tones.

"Hello?" a very sleepy voice was heard on the other end of the line, and Taeyong could feel the air returning to his lungs.

"Y/N?, I'm really sorry for calling you at this hour," Lee murmured as he left his daughter in her rocker and held his phone between his shoulder and ear.

(Y/N) recognized that voice after a few seconds and recognized those cries even more, making her sit up briefly in her bed and mentally forcing herself to wake up completely.

"Taeyong? What's wrong? Is it Sun Hee the one I hear?"

Of course, it's Sun Hee, idiot! What other daughter does Lee Taeyong have?

"Yes, it's Sun Hee... and I... don't know what's going on. Sunnie has been complaining all day and hasn't stopped crying for a while. I don't know what to do, I've already changed her diaper, she's already eaten, I even sang her some lullabies, but nothing works," explained Taeyong desperately. "I don't know what to do, I'm tired, my arms hurt from carrying her so much, I've memorized all the nursery rhymes, and Sun Hee doesn't seem happy with anything."

"Oh, Taeyong..."

"You were sleeping, weren't you? Oh God, I'm so sorry, I know it's late, but calling you was the only thing I could think of, I'm really sorry..."

"Taeyong?" (Y/N) called him. "Don't worry, I told you that you could call me if you ever needed it. I have no problem helping you, even if it's three in the morning," the girl could hear the soft laugh of the nurse on the other end of the line, and this created a great contrast between the incessant cries of his daughter and the sweet laughter of (Y/N). "What can I do for you?"

"I know it's late, but I can't think of anything else, can you come? Or if you want, I can put Sun Hee in her car seat and drive over there!" Taeyong explained quickly.

"Calm down, I don't think it's the best idea for you to drive stressed and with Sun Hee crying in the back seat. Send me your address, and I'll be there in a moment."

"Thank you, (Y/N), I wouldn't be calling at this hour if I really didn't need it..."

______________________________________________

The door of Taeyong's large apartment was knocked, and this alerted the boy as he carried his baby close to his chest. Lee headed to the entrance of his house, and when he opened it, he found (Y/N) in a very different contrast than he had become accustomed to seeing her. For obvious reasons, she was not in her work clothes, and now she was wearing a black sweatshirt with cute pants covered in puppy drawings all over. Her hair slightly loose and without a drop of makeup.

Even so, she looked pretty.

Taeyong blinked a couple of times and moved aside to let the girl pass while he continued to rock his daughter.

(Y/N) entered the apartment and approached the father and the little girl.

"Can you lay her down somewhere? I'd like to give her a quick check-up,"

Taeyong nodded without hesitation, walked to the room that had been adapted for Sun Hee, and laid her down in her crib. The crib that Johnny had successfully built, opening the fight between who would truly be Sun Hee's godfather... something they would detail later.

Once the little one was in her crib, (Y/N) lifted her clothes slightly to observe Sun Hee's stomach and see a few more things. The boy simply watched in silence, resigned by his daughter's cries and giving a couple of glances to the girl beside him.

I wish the call I made had been for something else and not for this.

Taeyong and (Y/N) hadn't had contact since that time two weeks ago when the former had left the hospital. Taeyong tried to call her a couple of times, to thank her again for everything she had done for them during the time she had been Sun Hee's nurse, but for some reason, he was always busy enough with his daughter and the company, and he didn't allow himself to do it.

He would have liked to invite her for coffee sometime.

He really would have liked that.

"I'm not exactly a doctor," (Y/N) spoke. "But I've worked with many babies to see these consistent behaviors. It seems to me that Sun Hee is suffering from colic; I think it would be best to take her to the pediatrician first thing in the morning just to be sure."

Taeyong nodded without saying a word, maybe because he was too tired to formulate anything or because maybe his mind was no longer processing anything. (Y/N) smiled tenderly, regardless of the little one's whining; after all, it was something she heard daily in maternal care.

"Can I?" she asked, pointing to Sun Hee. Taeyong nodded again, and (Y/N) took the little one in her arms. "Oh Sun Hee, it's been a while since we last saw each other; you look even prettier than two weeks ago, even though you won't stop crying," she murmured, earning a small laugh from Taeyong.

"Try spending three hours listening to her cry," the visibly tired boy replied.

"I work in maternal care, remember? I hear several babies cry at the same time."

"True," Taeyong sighed, "it's just that it's tiring, you know? Particularly today was a heavy day, and it seems that Sunnie has no intention of letting me sleep tonight."

"We'll try to fix it then," (Y/N) gave him a smile, glanced around the room, and when she found a rocking chair, she went there to sit down.

She placed Sun Hee on her lap face down and began to pat her back gently, then used her fingers to give her a little massage, delicate enough for her. For a moment, the crying didn't stop, but after a few minutes, the father found himself really surprised to notice that his daughter had managed to calm down.

From the doorway of the room, with his arms crossed over his chest... Taeyong smiled.

But what a sight. (Y/N) tried not to be distracted by this and continued to massage while clearing her throat.

"The nursery is very nice," she commented, trying to look anywhere but at the boy's figure.

Taeyong nodded and approached her slightly.

If you don't see him, you won't be distracted... if you're not distracted by him, you won't think anything impure...

"Yes, we set it up the first week Sun Hee was here. The guys and I went through a moment-" Taeyong laughed as he remembered the day- "Do you remember, Doyoung? He was the one who accompanied me on the last day at the hospital," (Y/N) nodded, "Doyoung, Johnny, and Jaehyun helped me, it was chaos, but we managed to set everything up... still, Sun Hee doesn't sleep here yet."

"Really?"

"Mhmm, Sunnie sleeps with me. In a way, it's easier for her to sleep if I'm by her side; I just put some pillows around her, and she sleeps in my bed," he commented, feeling his cheeks blush. In reality, it wasn't so much that Sun Hee had gotten used to him, but rather that Taeyong rested more peacefully knowing that his daughter was by his side, so he would know that, if something happened, he could respond immediately.

"That's very sweet," she commented, "how has everything been? It's been three weeks since I heard anything from you," she continued massaging the little one's back.

"Uh, it's been good, I guess. Sometimes a bit chaotic, but I have my parents' help and Sun Hee's uncles," he replied, "... my friends, they say they're Sunnie's uncles, and I agree with them, they're like my brothers."

"It's nice to know you have someone to lean on; it would be much harder if you were alone," she took the baby in her arms and rocked her as she saw her sleepy face.

Taeyong, surprised by the immense ability of the nurse, watched the scene with tenderness, which looked too domestic. Too much for Taeyong's liking.

"Yes, it's been hard, but they've been a great help. I've been working from here, so I have to take care of the company and Sun Hee at the same time. Sometimes it gets stressful, but I have to keep doing it, at least until Sunnie gets bigger and I can get a nanny... or take her to the company. I don't know which of the two options is worse."

"You'll surely find a good nanny or daycare," (Y/N) encouraged, "you know? We have a daycare at the hospital... well, not exactly in maternal care or in the hospital itself, it's affiliated. Sometimes I cover shifts there; maybe you should consider it."

"Yes, maybe," Taeyong smiled.

Both remained silent for a few seconds, (Y/N) still gently rocking the little one to not wake her from the sleep she had fallen into, and Taeyong discreetly looking at the nurse.

Never in his life did he think he would find himself in such a situation.

But he wasn't complaining; he liked the scene. It was nice to see.

(Y/N) also discreetly contemplated the scene and thought to herself: How is it possible for Lee Taeyong to look so attractive at three in the morning? Even with dark circles under his eyes?

It wasn't news that the man seemed attractive to her, but after three weeks without hearing from him, she thought she wouldn't think of him that way. Of course, Taeyong and Sun Hee were constantly on her mind; she wanted to know about them on many occasions, but she had no way to contact with him, and the hospital, for good reasons, wouldn't give her the Lee family's private information; after all, it's the hospital's policies, and she would respect them.

However, she was grateful that Taeyong had called her, even though it had been at three in the morning on a Tuesday, to deal with Sun Hee's irritated problem.

She just hoped that if they met again, it would be in a different situation...

______________________________________________

An hour and a half later, with a deeply sleeping Sun Hee in Taeyong's bed surrounded by pillows, and the clock showing four forty-five in the morning. Lee Taeyong and Kang (Y/N) were in the living room of the apartment, not saying much.

"I think I should go," the girl commented. "I start my shift in a few hours."

Two hours and fifteen minutes to be exact.

"Oh my God, (T/N), you should have told me you had an early shift; I wouldn't have made you come here if I had known," Taeyong exclaimed alarmed.

"Don't worry, really. I told you that you could call me if you ever needed anything, and I meant it. You and Sun Hee would never be a problem. I'm glad to help," she smiled.

"Thank you very much, it means a lot to me that you did this," the boy commented. For a moment, he thought about taking the girl's hands and giving them a slight squeeze, but he held back his thoughts. "I promise to repay you soon... maybe with a coffee?" the brunette asked, feeling a surge of hope in his chest.

He saw the girl's smile widen, causing him to smile as well, and he lowered his gaze shyly.

"Rest assured that I'll say yes," she replied. "I'll be waiting for your call, even if it takes three weeks again," she joked.

"I won't take that long this time, I promise you."

"We'll see about that... in the meantime, don't forget to take Sun Hee to the pediatrician tomorrow; anything you need, you can call me, Lee Taeyong. I'd like to know how things are going with Sun Hee afterward."

"I'll let you know if anything comes up."

"Goodnight, Lee Taeyong."

"Goodnight, (Y/N)."

And so, at five in the morning, each went to bed with a small smile decorating their faces.

____________________________________________

For (Y/N), life was something she appreciated.

Perhaps that's why she chose to work in the healthcare field.

She grew up in a middle-class family. Nothing extravagant, but with everything necessary to live comfortably. Her family wasn't large either; it was just her, her two siblings, and her parents. A typical family with its ups and downs.

She was never demanding and instead tried to help with whatever she could. She liked making people feel good and enjoyed contributing whenever possible, something that made her parents proud.

She grew up as a normal girl, at least until she reached high school, where her parents' divorce took place. She never knew when it happened or what led them to make that decision, which left a scar on her heart.

Or maybe she always knew but never wanted to acknowledge it.

She must have noticed it when her parents started arguing over every little thing. She must have noticed it when her father was less present at home. Surely, she noticed it when her mother cried all day in her room when her husband spent the entire night away. Perhaps the times when her older sister was irritated and left home to hang out with people of dubious reputation were a sign of how her family was gradually falling apart.

However, she hoped it wouldn't be like that.

Still, despite how much that decision affected her, she continued with her life as best as she could, being a support to her mother and becoming the older sister when her brother failed in that task.

She became an independent woman. She didn't like relying on others for money, which is why she managed to work since she entered high school. It was a part-time job, enough for her to have her own money, and it was the job that allowed her to find her vocation and passion.

Her job wasn't complicated – or at least, it didn't feel that way because it was something she genuinely enjoyed. Every day, after finishing her last high school class, (Y/N) rushed to the Dongjak area, where on a small street, she found the daycare center that allowed her to find her path. At that time, she didn't fully interact with the children, as she lacked the experience needed and was still young for that, but she was the assistant to the caregivers there, and seeing them work excited her every day.

She didn't know if she had developed an emotional attachment there, after the conflicts that had arisen at home due to her parents' arguments.

But she enjoyed being there, she really did.

Then her sister, in an attempt to leave home and go with who she swore was the love of her life, got pregnant at a young age. It was a difficult pregnancy, and (Y/N) took part in taking care of her sister throughout the process. She appreciated everything she had learned at the daycare center, which allowed her to put it into practice once her nephew was born.

Her nephew was the apple of her eye and would always be.

She didn't blame her sister, she really didn't want to, but there were times when it seemed like she was the mother of her nephew herself. There were many occasions when she had to take care of Jisung. Her sister had to leave high school behind and get a job to cover her and her son's needs, especially after the man who swore to always be by her side had cowardly fled two months before giving birth, making the childbirth process even more difficult than it already was.

So, her nephew saw her as a pillar. Someone who took care of him, fed him, changed him, and cared for him. (Y/N) even witnessed his "firsts" before his own mother. His first steps, his first words, she even accompanied him on his first day of preschool, continuing until she had to go to university.

Having found her vocation early on made everything easier. She entered the Academy of Health and Pediatric Nursing in Seoul. Where she always got good grades and became an exemplary student, graduating with all the honors her academy could give her almost three years ago.

It wasn't difficult for her to find a job immediately, thanks to the recommendations some of her teachers had, she was able to find a nice position in the maternity and pediatric care area at Seoul General Hospital, where she couldn't feel more comfortable.

Where she was right now.

" Nurse (Y/N)!" a soft voice called from behind her, causing her to turn around and smile emotionally.

"Hello, little one," she greeted, approaching the bed of one of her patients. "How are you feeling today?"

"Very well, they told Mom that I can go home today, they say the treatment worked," the boy told her with a huge smile on his face.

"Oh, I'm so glad to hear that! You'll soon be back to see your friends at school," she encouraged him.

"Yes, but I'll miss you a lot, so I made this for you," he said, pointing to the piece of paper in his hands. "It's you and me."

(Y/N) smiled tenderly and looked at the drawing Kaeyoon had made for her.

"It's very nice, Yoonie, thank you very much for your gift, I'll hang it on my fridge," she said as she high-fived the boy. Then she looked at the drawing and looked doubtful. "And who is he? Is he your dad?" she asked, pointing to another figure in the drawing.

"No, that's Doctor Yuta, and he has hearts in his eyes because he's your boyfriend!" he exclaimed happily, causing (Y/N) to widen her eyes and then release a smile.

"But Yoonie~, Doctor Yuta is not my boyfriend," she replied, still laughing.

"Then can I be your boyfriend?” he asked skillfully.

"Oh, honey, I'm afraid you're too young for me," she replied with a smile.

"And when I get bigger?"

"Maybe when you're big," (T/N) continued. "But by then, you'll surely have found another girlfriend that will have your age."

"But you're the prettiest! Besides, I have to beat Doctor Yuta," he muttered.

"What do you have to beat me in?" another voice chimed in, and (Y/N)'s body reacted to it.

"In nothing."

"In being (Y/N)'s boyfriend," Kaeyoon and (T/N) replied in unison.

Yuta opened his mouth and pretended to be surprised. "So it's a competition?"

"Yoonie's just kidding," (T/N) said with a nervous smile. "You know how kids are, doctor."

"Look, doctor! I've made a drawing for you too," Kaeyoon exclaimed, changing the subject drastically, and it was the perfect opportunity for (Y/N) to awkwardly step away from there.

She wrapped the drawing in the paper and put it in the pocket of her pants before starting to check the checklist and see which child she should attend to. She stood at the desk for a few seconds, checking and arranging things until she felt a presence beside her, one that she could easily identify.

"So you have little kids falling for you," Yuta commented with a mocking smile.

(T/N) smiled nervously. "That's how kids are. Two weeks ago, he was in love with Nurse Mina."

"But he was right to fall for you," Dr. Yuta continued, and (T/N) let out a laugh followed by him. "Would you like to go for a coffee in your next break at the hospital cafeteria? I mean, it's not the most elegant thing, but I'd like to spend some more time with you."

(Y/N)'s cheeks turned crimson, and she nodded, smiling. "Oh yes, of course. I would love to."

"Maybe I might win you over Kaeyoon," Yuta said as he walked away from the desk.

_______________________________________________

Second month.

Week one, Thursday.

(Y/N) had been right two weeks ago. Sun Hee was suffering from colic, and according to the pediatrician, it was due to the formula Taeyong had been feeding her.

Taeyong instinctively felt like a bad father; he had been feeding his daughter something her little stomach seemed unable to tolerate. But how could he have known? He had to completely discard those formula cans from his pantry and replace them with the new formula the pediatrician had recommended, and soon, Sun Hee's discomfort was diminishing.

Even now, he could sleep a little more at night.

Along with the massages he had learned the night (Y/N) had helped him and a couple of other routines, Sun Hee's colic decreased.

(Y/N)…

Although Taeyong had assured not to take three weeks again to contact her, it seemed that Taeyong really wanted to leave her waiting. Not to misinterpret, it wasn't that he didn't want to call her and invite her for a coffee, but his life was busy, and his priority was his daughter instead of throwing flirty glances around.

Although he knew that a coffee was the least Taeyong could offer her in gratitude for that time at three in the morning, he simply couldn't muster the courage to pick up his damn phone and dial a few numbers. Besides, he didn't want to misread the signs; who would want to date a dad?

"You should just call her," Johnny advised as he watched his friend from the other side of the couch.

Sun Hee rested on her father's chest as he stared at his phone incessantly.

"I don't know, John," Taeyong replied with a sigh.

"How long has it been? Two weeks? You should have called her the next day."

"I don't want to pressure anything... maybe she's not interested."

"The girl came at three in the morning on a Tuesday, do you really think she wouldn't be even slightly interested?" Johnny asked incredulously.

"It was for Sun Hee, nothing else. She said she wouldn't mind helping with Sun Hee whenever she could," the younger one confessed, stroking his daughter's back.

"You should give yourself more credit, Lee Taeyong. You're a coveted and handsome man; being a dad now doesn't change how attractive you are."

"I was hoping she would be interested, not you," he joked, and Johnny contemplated throwing a pillow at him for a moment, but after seeing his niece on his friend's chest, he stopped.

"You'll never know if she has even a little interest if you don't call her. Plus, for the favor she did you, it's the least you can do."

Taeyong fell silent and sighed.

"I know, I'm aware of that," he replied, closing his eyes momentarily. "I'll keep considering it."

"You're stubborn," Johnny commented, rolling his eyes.

"Alright, alright. Get your ass up and come with me to the supermarket; Sun Hee finished her formula, and she needs more."

"Anything for my niece."

______________________________________________

“What do you think of this?” Johnny asked as he showed Taeyong a jar of baby food.

Taeyong turned around and snorted.

“Sun Hee still can't eat those things; besides, the doctor recommended that once Sunnie started trying food, I should prepare her purees myself. It's more natural,” the father shrugged, glancing at his daughter strapped to his chest in a baby carrier.

“Wow.”

“Wow what?”

“I never in my life imagined you playing the role of a dad,” Johnny commented with a half-smile.

His friend sighed and placed a can of formula in the shopping cart before sighing again.

“I didn't either, but Sun Hee came, and I'll try to be the best father she could have,“ he replied, smiling as he looked at his daughter. “ Everything happened very quickly, but Sunnie is a ray of sunshine.”

“She is!” Johnny agreed, then cleared his throat. “When are you going back to work? At the company, I mean.”

“John, this isn't the place to talk about that,” Taeyong said, pushing the cart.

“Taeyong, you know it has to happen. At some point in your life, you have to return to your usual routine. You can't work from home your whole life. Even the day will come when you have to go out and have fun too!”

“Johnny, stop”

“You know I'm right, Taeyong.”

The younger one sighed again. "I know, John, but now isn't the time for that. Sunnie is only two months old; the day will come when I can take her to the office without her getting irritated so quickly or the day when she's big enough to leave her in daycare."

“Just promise me you won't put your life completely on hold. I know Sunnie is your priority now, and some things change when you become a father, but please, also give yourself some time. If you ever need it, you can ask your mother to take care of her, I could even be Sun Hee's babysitter for a day!”

“I'd rather leave Sunnie with Doyoung and Jaehyun than with you,” Taeyong joked.

“Hey! How could you prefer to leave my niece with those two clowns? They can't even take care of themselves!”

Taeyong chuckled and continued pushing the shopping cart while considering what groceries to bring home.

“Okay, Johnny, I really appreciate it.”

His friend kept talking beside him, but he wasn't really paying attention. Instead, he was focusing on the items on the shelves and what he should take home, gently rocking Sun Hee to prevent her from crying right there.

He stopped somewhere between the cereal aisle and the canned goods, and upon hearing a child's laughter, he turned to his right, finding a very familiar face. The girl was about twenty steps away from him, with a smile on her face as she listened to what a little boy was saying to her.

Taeyong was confused; his brow furrowed as he looked sideways at the scene. Was that girl (Y/N)? If so, who was the boy next to her? His eyes widened; could he be her son? But what about that time at three in the morning? She wouldn't leave her child alone somewhere to go help another family... What if she had a husband and left him with him? Oh no, no, no, no.

“Taeyong?“ a female voice brought him back to reality, and he focused on the girl coming towards him with a confused expression, then smiling as she recognized him.

“ (Y/N), hi” he greeted, once she and the boy holding her hand were in front of him.

“ Of all the places we could run into each other, it has to be the supermarket” she commented, laughing softly.

Taeyong smiled. "Yes, Sunnie ran out of formula, so I had to come for more," he explained, pointing at his daughter.

“ Oh, I see. How's Sun Hee? I haven't heard from you since about two weeks ago,“ she inquired.

“She's been better; she had colics because her stomach couldn't handle the formula she was drinking. Now everything's fine.”

“I'm glad to hear that,“ (Y/N) noticed how Taeyong discreetly observed Jisung and spoke, “ Oh, yes, he's Jisung*. He's my nephew; I brought him to buy his favorite cereal, and he's staying over tonight.”

The guy felt the blood rushing back through his body and smiled warmly as he leaned slightly to look at the little boy.

“Hey, hi champ. I'm Taeyong, and she” he momentarily uncovered his daughter's face “ is Sun Hee.”

“Hi, Mr. I'm Jisung, and I'm this many,“ he held up his right hand, raising five fingers and showing them to Taeyong, who smiled tenderly.

“Oh, that's a lot. You're almost catching up to me.”

“Yeah, he’s almost your age” she laughed off.

In that brief moment, Taeyong and (Y/N) exchanged a few more words. The guy was distracted by her, now seeing her in a different light. He had seen her in her work clothes, then in pajamas when he called her at three in the morning, and now he saw her in a floral dress and a thin sweater covering her, with her hair loose and slightly wavy, and a bit of gloss on her lips.

She looked phenomenal. Actually, she looked phenomenal no matter what.

In nurse's attire, in pajamas, he was sure she would even look spectacular in a sack of potatoes because she just shone in every way.

However, his little and discreet admiration was interrupted when Johnny's voice called him abruptly.

“Hey, Taeyong. Look what I found; this would look cute on my niece” Johnny spoke, lightly tapping his back as he reached his side. Then he realized the situation and smiled sideways, “Oh, I didn't know you had found someone. I'm Johnny Suh, pleased to meet you” the blonde commented, extending his hand to the girl and giving a high-five to the little boy.

“She's (Y/N),” Taeyong said, fearing the worst.

“Oh.”

“ Nice to meet you, Johnny. I'm (Y/N). I was Sun Hee's nurse while she was in the hospital” she spoke kindly.

Johnny smiled playfully and turned to look at his friend, who was looking at him barely shaking his head.

Taeyong could expect anything from his friend, and that was what he feared the most.

“Oh, so you're the nurse Yong wanted to invite for coffee?“ he innocently asked.

“Johnny.”

“Hmm, I don't know” she responded with a little laugh, “Am I?”

“Excuse my friend; he's a very busy and absent-minded man” Johnny explained, receiving a small punch in his ribs from Taeyong, who smiled falsely and continued talking to the girl, “Isn't that right, Taeyong?”

“Yes, sorry for not calling you back after that night; I've just been taking care of Sun Hee and working at the company, so I didn't find the right moment to call you” Taeyong spoke with his head slightly bowed, feeling embarrassed.

“Oh, don't worry. I figured you'd be busy. No need to apologize; I completely understand” she assured him with a smile.

“But what a lovely girl! You better invite her for coffee; otherwise, I'll do it myself” Johnny encouraged while still smiling, causing (Y/N) to laugh.

“Johnny...”

“I was just kidding,“ he raised his arms in a sign of innocence, “but I'll leave you two alone; I heard there's a sale on floral detergent. I can't miss it!“ he exclaimed so that, without further ado, he walked away from the aisle and left both guys with both children, alone.

“I'm sorry, really. Sometimes Johnny can be... extra,” Taeyong apologized quickly, shaking his head with a smile, “but what he said is true; I wanted to invite you for coffee, but I couldn't find the right moment to call you. I'm sorry for taking so long.”

She smiled sideways and nodded slightly as she placed her hand on the guy's shoulder.

“It's okay. I waited for your call after you said you wouldn't take three weeks to call me this time,” she said, laughing, “but I figured you'd be busy, so no hard feelings.

“Is it still time for me to invite you?” he asked, his big eyes shining. (Y/N) nodded with her cheeks turning red, “How about Saturday afternoon? I know of a café not far from here, and they sell amazing muffins. I'm sure you'll like the place.”

“You've convinced me with the muffins.”

“Of course” Taeyong laughed. “I'll send you the location by text... this time, I'll do it.”

“I'll wait for your message then,” she said, nodding, then staying silent for a few seconds.

Should they say goodbye now? Should he wave his hand? Or leave a kiss on her cheek? They still didn't have the confidence for that, did they? Would it be weird if he did? How complicated everything is!

“Auntie, I want to go now,” the voice of a little boy took them out of their trance, and they changed their view to the kid.

“Oh, of course, my love. Have you had your cereal?” the girl asked, and Jisung nodded, “Okay, then we’ll go,” she assured him, then turned her gaze back to the boy and the little one on his chest, “it's been nice seeing you; give Sun Hee a kiss from me, have a good night.”

“See you on Saturday.”

“See you on Saturday, Taeyong.”

______________________________________________

The boy approached his car where Johnny was leaning against it, waiting for him. Taeyong gave him a dirty look, and the blond raised his arms as he opened the back door.

“Don't look at me like that! “ he pleaded with a smile “I did you a favor, dude!”

“Just don't say anything and put the stuff in the trunk” Taeyong ordered as he placed Sunnie in her car seat.

Johnny obeyed his friend's orders and began to put everything inside the car. After a few minutes, he returned to Taeyong's side, who had already settled Sun Hee comfortably and asleep in her car seat.

“Come on, help me get rid of this thing, it's stuck,” the brunette said as he tried to open one of the zippers of his baby carrier, struggling with it.

His friend approached him even closer and tried to help in a failed attempt; the zipper was stuck, and it didn't seem to want to open even with all the force in the universe.

“Let me try, don't move,” Johnny requested as he held his friend by the back and put one of his hands on the zipper of the carrier, “why won't it come out?”

“What a beautiful family!“ the exclamation of an older lady was heard, causing both boys to look at her. She was looking at them with a tender smile as she waved at them. Then they looked at each other and at their current position, prompting Taeyong to quickly push him away with his hands, and Johnny cleared his throat as he turned around.

“You get rid of that by yourself”

I’m sorry I took too long for posting this!! 😭

Taglist is open, just lemme know if u want to be added! You can ask me something if you want here!

Taglist: @geminiml95 @zooana @cathamada

[mystverse]

07:01 PM

PAIRING : Lee Taeyong × Fem Reader

WARNINGS : just some kisses

"Y/N! come here!" Taeyong calls you as he stirs the soup with the ladle. You throw the console to the sofa and skip to your best friend. Well, not really. Both know that you like each other but just haven't confessed it out loud or kissed.

It's your usual hangout night, a night to just chill and laze around after long days of monotonous work. So you didn't bother dressing up. You just wore his shirt with your shorts.

He scoops half a spoon of the soup and blows it to cool down before he gives it to you, "How is it?" his eyes set on you, your lips, waiting to know the result. You scrunch up your nose, "Too bland." You lean against him, looking for something to spice up the soup. His fingers instinctively come to your waist, and you don't mind it. You are used to his touch anyway. His touch calms you down. At first, you didn't want to accept it. The fact that there's someone's touch can calm you down, but as days went by, you came to accept it. Enjoy it even. He had that rom-com effect on you.

"Where's the hot sauce gipi dip that?"

He wordlessly points his finger behind him, and you grab it from behind him. Not bothering to move away, you add the sauce in the boiling soup, and his eyes dilate in shock, "That'sㅡ" you empty almost half of the bottle in the soup. He gulps, the color has turned to that insanely fiery red of chillies, "ㅡtoo much."

You raise the spoon to his mouth after blowing off the steam. He reluctantly tastes it, and his hand immediately jerks to his mouth, trying to fan away the spiciness. You stand in front of him, motionless and guilty. His eyes are tearing, "Ahㅡ" he sniffles, and you facepalm. Shit, Y/N, you curse at yourself, running to take the water bottle from the fridge. You hastily open the bottle to give to him, but he pulls you by chin and presses lips on yours. You gasps, and the bottle falls to the floor with the loud thud, with the way he moves his lips against yours. He slips his tongue past your lips, licking into your mouth. You cling on his arm, standing in your tippy toes, sharing the overly tangy taste from his lips. He pulls away, licking his lips, "That wasㅡ" your unsteady breath mingles with his, "ㅡspicy, I know. I'm soㅡ" he pecks your lips to stop you, "that was awesome."

: MYST

[writemekpop]

Sleepless | Lee Taeyeong

Summary: Your boyfriend Taeyong has been moaning your name in his nightmares, but he refuses to tell you why...

Genre: Established relationship AU, angsty

Word Count: 0.8k

“Y/n! Stop!” Taeyong begged, his tear-streaked face squeezed against the mattress.  

He woke up with a jolt, his terrified eyes meeting yours.

Your boyfriend’s nightmares had been going on for a week. Every night, he cried your name in his sleep, his voice husky and breathless.

“Baby, I’m here, it’s okay,” you whispered, wrapping your hands over his broad shoulders. “What was it about?”

“Nothing. I’m fine,” he said, rolling to face the other side of the bed.

“That’s the fifth time this week. You’re not fine.”

“I’ll sleep in the spare room tomorrow,” Taeyong replied gruffly, as if the conversation was over.

“I don’t care about my sleep, Taeyong, I care about you. I think it would help to talk about it.” You ran your fingers over his rippling back muscles.

Taeyong turned to face you. His lips opened for a moment… then he shook his head. “You wouldn’t understand.”

His words stung. You knew Taeyong had had a traumatic experience when he was a kid, and you hadn’t, but… he had never made you feel bad about it.

You bit your lip. “Fine then. Sleep in the spare room – for a week.”

“Fine.”

--

The bed was chilly without your boyfriend in it. The white bedsheet could have been an iceberg.

For a few nights, you put up with his tortured nightmare sounds through the wall.

Then one night, you heard a sound that you would never forget. It was a howl, a sound of pure anguish, that tore through the air. You had to go and check on Taeyong.  

You rushed to the bed in the spare room to wake him up.

Taeyong’s eyes shot open. They looked weirdly glassy, like he was looking through you.

“Did it burn you? Oh, baby, let me kiss your wounds!” Taeyong said.

Taeyong’s lips stroked your face, your neck, your waist, as his anxious eyes roamed over every inch of you.

“W-what are you talking about?” you said. “You’re scaring me…”

Taeyong squeezed you into his chest, his arms caging you in a hug. He pressed a soft kiss on your lips, then pulled you into his arms again. “Not too bad – singed hair – second degree – we’ll be alright.”

In your hair, he whispered, “I thought I’d lost you, I thought I’d lost my angel…” 

Your heart swelling, you held his head in your hands, forcing him to look at you. “Baby! Nightmare – that’s all it is.”

Taeyong froze. Like a blind man seeing for the first time, he looked in wonder at the small bedroom, then back at you.

“But the… fire…” he said.

Taeyong sat down on the bed, hard. The mask had fallen again, and his face was unreadable. “Sorry. ‘Nother nightmare. Go back to sleep.”

“No Taeyong… what fire?” you said, sitting next to him.

When Taeyong met your eyes, his face was stony and you knew he wanted to shut you out yet again.

But after a long moment, something in him softened.  

“When I was twelve – some people who hated my father burnt our house down. If I hadn’t warned my parents, I would have lost them.”

He took your hand and kissed it. “Ever since we moved in together, I’ve been getting these nightmares, where it’s you getting hurt – only – I can’t save you this time…”

Your heart throbbed with love for Taeyong. All this time, he had been worrying about you.  

“You should have just told me!” you said.

Taeyong chuckled hoarsely. “Honestly, it feels good to tell you.”

“Of course, it does, you idiot. I’m your girlfriend,” you said, lightly punching his stomach. You looked into his eyes. “I can’t understand what you’ve been through, but let me just listen, okay?”

Taeyong nodded warmly. “I’ll never hide another thing from you, baby.”  

“Wanna go back to sleep? You can come back to the master bedroom,” you said, chuckling.

“Can’t sleep,” Taeyong said, glaring at the corner as if he was warning the shadows not to come any closer.

“Well, I can think of a much better way to pass the time,” you said, eyeing him through your lashes. You let your fingers skate innocently to the waistband of his shorts… then underneath…

A grunt sounding in his throat, Taeyong swept you effortlessly into his arms and carried you into the master bedroom.

“You, my dear, are plenty hot enough to start a fire,” you giggled.

Taeyong’s smile dropped.

“Too soon?” you asked.

“Definitely too soon,” Taeyong agreed, but he was smiling. He leaned in to kiss you again.

—

MAIN MASTERLIST

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

[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

[xdjville]

tinnitus

pairing: taeyong x gn!reader

genre: angst, hurt with no comfort

cw: none

word count: ~490

author's note: i'm sad so here's my first ever angsty piece (i think)! please be nice to the first born 🙏

the sound of door slamming echoed in taeyong's head as he stood in the middle of his living room, alone.

eyes not focused on anything in particular, he stared blankly into the void of the dimly lit room. the tinnitus in his ears was so overwhelmingly loud that it almost made his head spin, hindering all attempts to collect his thoughts and fathom the situation he found himself in.

his breaths were short and shallow, his heart racing, and taeyong thought he somehow might be drowning. or perhaps he hoped that's what was happening, and that this was all some sort of a dream and soon someone would soon carry him to the shore.

but there were no arms grasping his weak body and he didn't wake up on the sand, and that realisation forced him to clutch onto the backrest of his sofa as his knees lost all strength.

only then that he was finally able to move his gaze and see clearly again his eyes roamed around the room frantically in search of something. he didn't know what that something was, but he hoped for anything that would convince him that you were still there.

but he found nothing, only silent whispers of the wind coming through the left ajar windows, the echo of your voice, full of despair and anger he'd never realised you had, and this goddamn endless buzzing in his ears keeping him company in the desolation of his apartment.

but when taeyong shifted his weight to rest his hip on the cushion, arm getting too shaky to keep him from falling any longer, he caught a glimpse of something laying on the floor as it reflected the ceiling lights for a fraction of a second.

still not conscious enough to be able to move closer, he tried his best to make out the shape of the tiny object in the half-light, squinting his eyes as it contorted and morphed into something that perhaps could be recognised.

when the contour settled in the right place to reveal the item, taeyong's heart sank.

the silver ring shined softly against the dark wood, rhinestones flickering as if imitating shattered pieces of a promise left behind.

his vision became blurred by the tears welling in his eyes before he could take any more than a glimpse of the almost painfully familiar shape, his own maching piece of the jewelry burning hot against his ring finger.

his throat clenched so tight he chocked on his breath, sobs cut short to barely audible gasps. he fell to his knees, faltering under the weight of the shadows of memories as he suffocated on the bitter taste of the consequences of his actions lingering in the air.

at once, everything around him fell silent. the wind ceased to sough, your voice reverberating bewteen the walls quieted down, even the merciless tinnitus seemed to have left him.

and he was left all alone.

#taglist ➼♡ @bambisnc

©xdjville

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[10:57 pm] 

(cw: angst, mentions of receiving hate and threats, no happy ending) (I also have no knowledge of being an idol, I’m a 23 year old teenage latina, I doubt this is accurate)

“I can’t do this anymore,” you sobbed, wiping away at your tears.

Taeyong’s head snapped up, looking at you with teary eyes, “Please don’t tell me you mean us.”

You nodded, trembling hands going up to muffle your sobs. Everything was awful, your perfect little bubble was popped with one stupid slip up. You were both usually so careful about being out in public together, only going out at night, dark clothes, masks, and hats to disguise who you both were. You had both decided that after a year of publicly sneaking around maybe you could finally have dinner together. Wrong, so, so, so wrong. A “fan” had taken both your pictures and someone else must have tipped off Dispatch because the next morning you had woken up to pictures of yours and Taeyong’s faces plastered on every site you clicked on and countless calls from your manager.

The meeting with your company had been disheartening. Even though you had let them know about your relationship months ago, everything had now fallen on your shoulders. You were bringing a bad look to your group and tarnishing your own reputation. It was at least a little hopeful when they told you they’d put out a statement and this would all blow over soon. It felt even more awful sitting beside your manager while she got her own earful for allowing you to sneak off as if she were completely responsible for your own actions. You had apologized profusely after the meeting, begging for her forgiveness. She of course forgave you, but it didn’t ease the pit in your stomach.

Two weeks had passed and you were still under under scrutiny. Scrolling through your instagram, every single post had hate comments that were vicious and heartless. Even your group’s page contained the same comments and threats. You had apologized to your members, promising that it was never your intention to have anything like this happen. They understood, some being in their own relationships and reassured you that everything would work out. Again, it didn’t do anything to ease the guilt and anxiety you felt with the mess your love-filled relationship had become.

Your guilt only grew, learning that your comeback would have to be held off because of all the backlash against the group. You could comeback and risk having your worst public reception yet, or comeback and not be given opportunities to promote anywhere. You had even overheard a few managers from another group from your company talking about how the company shares had taken a very noticeable drop after the news came out. The pit in your stomach only grew at that news.

“Taeyong, nothing good has come from us being exposed to the public. I can’t open any apps because all I see is hate, my members are bombarded with hate too, and we can’t comeback so we don’t make money. I heard them talking about the threats they were getting,” you paused as your voice cracked, “The stocks at the company have taken a hit from this too! All this is my fault!”

“It’s my fault too, but we can’t give up on this- on us. I’ll talk to my manager and we can get the company lawyers involved,” Taeyong tried, reaching for your hand.

“You’re not getting hate like I am Taeyong, you still get to make your comeback and make appearances because no one will assume that my senior is dating me to get his name out. You can keep living your dream, but if I double down this can be all over for me and everyone I work with. My manager almost got fired over this, Taeyong. I’ve known her since I was 15 and she’s the closest this I have to family besides my members this far away from home. I’ve almost ruined people’s livelihoods over this news,” you cried with your head in your hands.

“But we know that’s not what this is, please, my love. Don’t give up on me.”

“It’s not like I want to Taeyong! My manager will get in touch with yours so a statement can be made about us splitting up,” you decided, wiping away your tears as you stood up and left his dorm before he could protest any further.

It was the hardest decision you ever had to make. Nobody understood you like Taeyong. There was no one in the world who could get you like he could, simply because he had gone through the same things you had, he understood the busy schedules, the constant change in time zones, the shoots, the promotions, living with your group members. Unfortunately, that also meant he understood the consequences that could come from both of you becoming public. You had both seen so many peers experience the same thing, and chose to ignore that when it came to the two of you since there wasn’t any plan for you to go public any time soon. It obviously didn’t work out like either of you wanted.

You were about to step out the door, when Taeyong’s voice rang out, “I love you, is that not enough for you? You don’t even want to fight for us? Please, just tell me you love me back.”

“I can’t just think of myself here, It’s beyond me Taeyong- beyond us. I will not put my needs and wants before a team of people, I can’t do that,” You replied, wiping away your stream of tears. “I do love you, but that can’t be enough.”

It was over and it felt so heartbreaking and awful. You loved Taeyong with all your heart, but you had worked so hard to get where you were, where your group was. You couldn’t risk all your hard work and the work of your team going down the drain because you chose to be selfish. In an ideal world, you could live your dream and have your love, but it didn’t always work like that.

[rosietaeyongswife]

i'm your baby | lee taeyong

genre: angst, thriller synopsis: Tell your baby, that I'm your baby tw: stalking, cursing, depression, alcohol and drugs consumption, suggestive themes, blood, murder.

If there would be someone to blame for your problems in life, it has to be you. It wasn't anyone else choices, but yours. Instead of being grateful for what you have, you'd rather destroy everying you have in a sake of your stupid thinking. Only if life wasn't so cruel to you.

Even in times when you were in depths of hell, he was always there for you. He has never left you side, not once. No matter how far you've been pushing him away, he would stay because he loved you.

"Can we talk?" Taeyong's voice was low and shaky. He was sitting on the floor outside of the bathroom, waiting for you to get out. "Please?"

It's one of those bad days. You didn't have any energy to do anything, nor to talk with your boyfriend. He was there for you to help you, but you couldn't let him.

"Why cant' you leave me alone?"

"Baby, let's talk. I love you, please. I hate it when you're having a breakdown and you won't let me help." He was close to crying, while you were on the floor with a blank expression. "I can do everything in my power to make you happy. Just let me try."

Everytime it ends the same way. Suddenly, you're depressed, everything's bothering you, and Taeyong is the only one, who try to fix it. It breaks your heart piece by piece. He deserves better.

"I love you too."

You wish you could do something to feel better, to escape this shithole once and for all. Being with Taeyong is like being in your comfort zone. He brings you comfort, even though you hurt him with your actions. You want him to be happy.

"I love you so much." Taeyong was whispering in your ear, as he was kissing down your neck, with one hand in your panties. "I love you, your body and your everything."

"Fuck me, Taeyong. I want it."

In times like those, you're deeply in love. You chase your climax with him by your side. He makes you cum, treats you as his prize, and he's there for you in most intimate way ever possible. You feel secure with him.

You're selfish. You're keeping Taeyong by yourself, yet he needs to put up with your shit. You should stop being selfish, and let Taeyong live a little. He's stuck with a wreck. With a person with a long gone soul.

"Dr. Yeong said I should switch medicines." Taeyong looked up at you from his book. "I don't want to. I feel like I'm living in a lifeless body. Not living, but surviving, perhaps."

"Baby, he wants what's the best for you. We can do it together, I'm here for you anytime."

"That's the issue, Taeyong." You scoffed. "You're there for me anytime I need, you're sacrificing yourself for me. That's not okay with me. It's not fair to you."

He could only stare at you with his soft eyes. Taeyong saw the best in you. In his eyes, you were his precious girl. He wants to hold you in his arms forever, and never let go. His heart aches at your pain. It really does.

"I want to do it. It brings me joy to help you. I love you, and that's what matteres."

Within secons both of you were kissing as if your life depended on it. He is the great lover and you want to be selfish to be with him. It has to be your biggest sin - being in love with Lee Taeyong. Letting him be in love with you may be even worse, though.

Alcohol wasn't your preffered drink, but now you feel at ease thanks to it. Bottle, then two, maybe four? They make you feel better. Alcohol is better for you than those pills, Dr. Yeong is giving you.

"Are you going to vomit?" Taeyong was sitting with you on a bathroom's floor with your hair in his hands. "I told you not to do it. It''s bad for you."

He came back from work to see you laying on the floor, not moving with a bunch of empty bottles next to you. Taeyong has noticed, you've been drinking a lot. It's becoming a problem.

"I don't know. I'm sorry."

The next second you're throwing up while Taeyong is there to support you, no matter what.

Ashamed.

You felt ashamed of yourself to present yourself in such a horrible way in front of you lover. That's an endless cycle.

"What the fuck? Y/N?" Taeyong opened the door to your shared bedroom but it was locked. "Why didn't you go to job? And you don't pick up anyone's calls?"

Silence. There was no response, and that's when Taeyong's blood preassure probably went a bit higher than it should.

"Baby? Are you alright?"

Again, no response. Adrenaline rushed through him, and the next second he was demolishing his bedroom's door. The sight broke his heart. You were unconcious on the floor. His world fall apart. He was panicking again.

"She overdosed on drugs, Mr. Lee." A woman in her 50s explained what happened to you, while you weren't awake. "Few more minutes and you would've found her dead there, sir. If I was you, I'd sign her up for a rehab."

"Drugs? She doesn't take drugs, she could never."

"Sir, it's not the first time she took those. I'm certain she has issues with this. I'd reccomend you talk with her about therapy, she doesn't look healthy, nor alright."

Taeyong was extra protective of you. He wasn't feeling good about leaving your side. Your heart breaks everyday more for him. He doesn't deserves what you've been putting him through.

"I signed you for a rehab."

"My mother told me about it." He handed you your bags. "I'm going to miss you a lot."

"Don't say that, or I may cry."

There was a lot of time for you to think. Rehab lasted two weeks, before you dropped out. You weren't addicted, you just wanted to do something to endure your pain. Taeyong was crying when he saw you. A bit healthier looking with a soft smile.

"I missed you, God. I wanted to get there and stay with you, baby. I love you so much."

A single tear run down your cheek.

"We need to break up. I love you but it's not fair. I can't be with you, if I'm making you suffer."

"What are you talking about? I love you and you're telling me-"

"Don't overcomplicate it. I love you. Please, find someone that may treat you the way you deserves. I'm fuckin tired of this mess. I'm not myself, I've lost myself a long time ago." The way he ws looking at you was screaming betrayal. Your heart ached at the sight but there's nothing you could do. "Don't you want to be free? Why can't you see I'm destroying you bit by bit, Taeyong? It's selfish to let you stay with me, even though I love you the most in the whole world."

The man standing in front of you had tears in his eyes. He was shocked, as he didn't expect you to break his heart in such a cruel way on a random Thursday.

"Fuck! You can't be doing this to me, Y/N! I love you! Not once have I felt bad about anything. I've never pitied you. Never!" He felt as he was going crazy. "I love you, and if I could.." Taeyong touched your hands. "I'd take away all your pain from you to put it on me. I'm sure about that. I will kill for you, I will lose everything for you. Please, don't do it. I can't live without you, Y/N. Please!"

What a mess you've made. The scene was cruel, sad, and desperate. The man you've loved your whole life is on his knees begging you to stay, while you can't do it. To be loved is to be changed, that's why you can't stay. This time, you're the one that got away.

"It's all an illusion, Taeyong. The longer you're with me, the more you're losing yourself. I feel like a thief in this relationship. I transfer my hardships on you."

"I love you, Y/N. You're my home, my everything. Why you're doing it to me?" A single tear came down your chin. "But I love you so.."

"Please, let me go.."

Two years later

Life is full of unexpected events. Living so long taught you a few hard lessons. Regret must be the worst one. Regret was so sorrow, and so hurtful. If you could turn back time, you would've done it long time ago. Past two years taught you a lot about yourself. Everything can be fixed, what a surprise! Therapy could help you, you only had to change a therapist. After few weeks you made sense. Life made sense. It wasn't all colorful, but you were better than before. Just without emotions.

Emotionless.

That's what kept you sane. Every single emotion was lost inside of you, so you could live a peacful life. Until up some point. Memories of Taeyong.

As you felt better, your mind played tricks on you. Random moments with Taeyong popped in your head. First date, first kiss, first sex, and first trip together. Every little thing you had known about him, was now all you could think about. You've developed an obsession.

Obsessed.

That's what you are. The therapist told you it might be a part of your healing journey. Little did he know, how fast could it transform into unhealthy obsession.

"He has a wife now." Your mother voice woke you up from your thoughts. She was talking to you about how wrong it is to still fantasize about him. "It was your choice to break things off. You can't return into his life as if nothing had happened."

She was right, but you couldn't process that yet.

"He loved me first. I want to talk to him, I've missed him."

"And ruin his life? Y/N, you left this life. You left him." Another reminder of your bad decision. "Taeyong met someone else, he's happy and in love with her. She's in his life, and you're not."

"Don't everyone deserve second chance? I've had enough of pain in my life, all I want is to talk with him. I want to see him, even if he's not with me."

Your mother forbid you from seeing Lee Taeyong. She made it clear, that meeting with him would complicate both of your lifes. Well, you had to came up with something else to be able to check on him.

Stalking.

Every other day, late at night, you would find yourself by windows of his new house. He's usually hanging out with his new girl, doing nothing but couple things. The way he was holding her, reminded you of how much you've loved to feel him. Every little touch of his made you hot. He seems happy, which broke you heart in half. Was he that happy with you? Does he love her more than he did you? A lot of questions popped in your head, yet there was no answeres for them.

Eventually, your mother found out about it and told your therapist. He was surprised, as he didn't expect you to do it.

"It's considered as crime, are you aware of that?" Nod. "If you keep hanging on the past, then you'll never recover fully. You had to drop Taeyong to be able to find yourself. Being like this, you're destroying what you've been building for so long."

"I love him. I can't help myself, but go there and look at them. He looks so happy, and it makes me wonder if he was even happy with me. Sometimes I think our relationship was fake, and he did pity me, after all." The young male was looking at you disappointed. He knew every detail about your relationship, and he was more than sure about the fact that Lee Taeyong loved you. "I held him back, back then. I'd love to be with him now, that I'm fixed."

"Y/N, Taeyong loved every inch of you. I'm sure he still does, but it's no longer the same love both of you shared mutually. It's a love that created through hardships of your relationship."

Nothing could stop you from visiting Taeyong's house. Your parents, even the therapist didn't suspect a thing since you've learned how to cover that. You found a job that is an online job, yet you made them believe you're going to the office every single evening and you're better now.

However, Taeyong must have suspected something. He must feel watched, as he have started to close blinds. There was no other option that breaking in. It felt as if you were some kind of psychopath but could you care? Not even a bit.

One night left you astonished. As you were hidding in a dark closet in Taeyong's bedroom, both he and his girlfriend began to kiss on their bed. At first it was an innocent act, until he got to undress her. The scene made you feel as if someone was stabbing you with a thousands of knives at once. He was craving someone else in front of you. He desried someone else, not you. Breathing suddenly became hard.

"Harder, Yongie. I love it!" She was moaning with her tits out, and his dick burried inside of her. The sight was so sinister, and sinful. "Fuck, more!"

"You like it, huh? You like being fucked dumb, love?"

This voice.

He used to be like that with you. Everytime, he would've fucked you dumb until you couldn't walk. In your relationship, you've fucked almost every day. Taeyong and his new girlfriend aren't as frequent with it.

It came into your realization, that you've been crying silently in Taeyong's closet.

"I love you, Yongie."

Yongie.

You used to call him that everytime. Now he's called that by an another woman.

Ever since that day, you've became a mad woman. As you had never touched cigarettes in your life, now it was your daily task. A need, perhaps. Your whole persona was even colder, than before. In your mind, there was something wrong. Taeyong was in love with the other woman. She was foreign in your life. She should've never been with him. It's not right. You found yourself often watching movies about crazy woman like Gone Girl, or Girl Interrupted. A desire to get rid of that girl arose in you.

"Are you feeling okay? You've been acting weird. Dying your red black, smoking, wearing black clothes and heels all the time. It's so unfamiliar with you."

Your mother was asking you, while you had a cigarette in your hand and smirk on your face.

"Why would I not be okay? I enjoy my life to the fullest. I love life, mum. I'm so glad I get to get another chance, and be okay with who am I."

"You have no idea how happy I'm to hear that! Hope, that Taeyong is now long forgotten."

"Oh, he is."

Nightmares showed up suddenly one day. It was a loop of you in a furry. Madness and red was all you could see in the nightmares. It felt so vivid, made you think it may be real.

Taeyong was all the time with her, now considered, an enemy. It stopped bothering you as you knew it won't take long to get rid of her. She needs to be stopped. She's taking your man from you.

"Did you hear that?" A girl asked, while both she and Taeyong were enjoying TV in their living room. The sound came from the kitchen, where both of them were looking at with a slightly scared expressions. "What's that?"

"Stay here. I'll check that."

Taeyong was alarmed, and his insticts told him to grab some kind of weapon to protect himself and his girl. He was slowly approaching the kitchen but he couldn't see anyone there. He sighed, thinking it might be something falling off.

"It's nothing, maybe-"

He stopped what he was about to say when he notticed you. You were standing in his living room with a huge grin on your face. Wearing black heels, black flare pants and a white shirt with a black coat on. Looking as beautiful as ever. He was shocked to see you insdie.

"I missed you, Yongie."

"Who is she? What the fuck are you doing in our home?!" The girl was asking a lot of questions, as she was confused what a stanger is doing in her home and why would she knew her boyfriend. "Taeyong, tell her to leave! She broke in!"

"Y/N, what are you doing here? Why would you break in? Is everything okay?"

His worried expression made you chuckle. Taeyong Lee hasn't changed at all.

"This is cute, Taeyong. I feel as good as ever. Everything is alright, I just came by."

"I need you to leave. You doesn't look fine, nor okay. Are you having an episode?"

"It's not an episode." You got your hidden knife out of your pocket, which made a girl on the sofa gasp. "I feel tired, after all I've seen past these months. I thought I'm the only one you love, Yongie."

"She has a knife, God!"

This situation was stressful and Taeyong was shocked to the core. It was so surreal.

"Well, you left me two years ago. I loved you, I still do but we're past now. I have a wife and I'm doing alright."

"But I was your baby. I love you, and there's no place for an another person in our life." You took a glance at frightened girl on the sofa, she was frozen to the core. "You love me, I know you do. You can't have an another baby." You turned back to Taeyong. "Tell your baby, that I'm your baby." You nodded at her. Taeyong could baerly breathe. "I'm your baby, Taeyong."

Even though it was a horror scene, Taeyong felt weak. He felt weakend by you. He has never stopped loving you. His little girl. He found a peace with someone else, but his feelings never changed.

"You're my baby, Y/N. I love you but I need you to put the knife down." He tried to get closer, but you stopped him. "Please. You may hurt someone."

"There's no place for her, Taeyong. I need to do something to make us happy."

Before Taeyong could've reacted, you were already stabbing his wife in the chest. You were in a furry, driven by madness. Everything you saw was red. Blood was splashing all around and at you. She was screaming but no one could hear her. Stab after stab. Taeyong was watching in horror as you were killing his wife.

"Fuck, stop!"

He held you tightly, as you dropped the knife. The lifeless body of Taeyong's wife was laying down on the sofa, as you were hugging Taeyong.

"I love you, and I'm so fuckin sorry about that. I had to do it. Please, forgive me." You were sobbing in Taeyong's arms. "Please, Yongie."

"Everything's going to be alright, I love you too. Shh, we're going to be fine, Y/N. I promise."

Next thing you knew was his lips on top of yours. Kiss you've been craving for so long, happened finally. His touch made you feel alive again.

"I want you all to myself."

"We need to get rid of that mess first." Never would you have guessed that Taeyong would help you to get away with killing his wife. "We need to do it first, then we can have each other."

After all, you're his baby.

[ddmmyuta]

lee taeyong’s ideal type

before you read: some nsfw parts, fluff, deep stuff, swearing

lee taeyong, bu bu, neomu neo chicken, korea’s senpai… he’s a man of many things. I think taeyong is quite a complex person when it comes to love. one minute he’s talking about how he is all shy and cute around you, but the next minute he’s talking about ramming you like there is no tomorrow! anyways… here are my thoughts on lee taeyong and what he wants in a future relationship…

★Personality:

someone who is: caring, emotional, mature, soft, sensitive, socially dominant, pure

I think taeyong wants a partner who truly cares for him and his emotions cause he does the same for you. he doesn’t want someone who can’t get in touch with their emotions and confront their internal or external issues. he seems to enjoy being taken care of and also caring for someone, and I think he values that quality in a significant other as well. he tends to think more innocently and closed off at certain points, therefore I think he’d appreciate a mature partner who can give him perspective and help him understand things he can’t. someone who is sympathetic and sweet towards others always gets him weak in the knees. introverted or extroverted, he likes someone who can dominate social situations, wether it’s at work or just hanging out, he likes someone who communicates easily and enjoys social interaction, but he doesn’t mind staying at home with you. he’s definitely into people who are pure, people who haven’t experienced everything they’ve wanted to experience cause I think he’d love to teach you stuff and experience new things with you as well.

let’s go head first into the horny pool: he pretends to be a top but really he is a bottom, so a partner who can do both (a switch basically) is his favorite. you are his muse… a new NCT horny song? babes it’s for you! he loves someone who is confident when it comes to the sideway salsa, not necessarily someone super experienced, just confident. 

★Physical:

someone who is/has: long-ish hair, shorter than him, soft features (like a puppy face), pretty thighs

homeboy loves shorter girls, like his ego just thrives off of it. I’m not saying his partner has to be a fucking elf, I’m just saying that he prefers to look down than up at his lover. he might like short hair, but I think he likes longer hair more (imo), he would just love to play with it and even tie it or braid it for you. I think someone with a soft-ish appearance and innocent like aura attracts him. puppy eyes, pupils as big as the earth, chubby cheeks, plump lips… he would die for that. I really think bubu is a thigh guy… boobs? meh! ass? meh! THIGHS? SIGN HIM UP! (for clarity I’m not saying thick thighs or skinny thighs, all thighs are hot no matter the cellulite, scars or fat on them).

once again, let’s dive deeper into the horny pool: he loves it when you sit on his lap and he sees your thighs spread out… like her gets super hot at that simple little thing. he is a body worshipper, so I feel like he would love everything about you… BUT YOUR THIGHS IS HIS FAVORITE! He would love to look into your eyes as you are topping him like the queen/king you are. 

anyways… hope y’all enjoyed that. remember that this is all delulu and fictional but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be horny! embrace the slutty side of you, trust me it’s life changing! love you!

[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

[phoxphenex]

HIHIHI I just read your Renjun Bff Angst! ITS SO GOOD AND CAN I ASK FOR TAEYONG VER PLS ?

IM JUST AN ANGST ENJOYER 🥹❤️‍🩹

bff taeyong angst texts

[ljxlj48]

[20:35] “I can’t,” you said in a shaky voice, tears rolling down your cheeks. You took the knife to your own heart, twisting it further. “I want to, but I can’t do this anymore,” you whispered, you had never felt so ashamed of yourself before tonight.

“I’ll quit and you’ll never have to do this anymore,” Taeyong said, standing on the opposite side of the hotel room, facing you. As tears rolled down his own cheeks.

You shook your head, “no, this is your dream.” You looked away, not being able to handle seeing Taeyong in so much pain like this.

“Y/n, please, you’re more important to me than the boys t-…”

“Stop,” you cut Taeyong off. If you let him say anymore, you wouldn’t leave tonight. “Don’t, don’t say that, you know it’s not true.” You pulled off the necklace Taeyong had gifted you for your one year anniversary, “I’m sorry.” You dropped the necklace into Taeyong’s palm before walking out of the hotel room, bag in hand.

You hated that you weren’t strong enough to endure this. When Taeyong invited you on tour with him, you thought it would be great. It would be an amazing way to spend time together. You had racked up enough vacation days to be gone for a whole month. However after the first week of being on tour, you realized this wasn’t gonna be as great as you thought.

Nevertheless you pushed on. You went to all his concerts, you seen amazing sites, you ate amazing food. Then there was the pictures, the rumors, the online abuse, the mental toll. A saesang had found out what floor Taeyong was staying on, and took a picture of the two of you returning to the room. From there the amount of hate you got online was overbearing, and then anytime you went to an NCT event, you got more hate.

The final straw was when you were staying in the hotel room alone, because you didn’t want to go out anymore, and a saesang broke into the room. You finally had it, you were done. You couldn’t handle it anymore and you hated yourself even more for not being able to handle it. You hated that Taeyong was willing to give it all up for you, but you couldn't handle it long enough for him.