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w2yang · 1 month ago

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ㅤㅤㅤ main cast. stalker ten 𖹭 trainee reader

synopsis 📁 ╱ chittaphon is just so easy to fall in love with, especially when you're dumb enough to not notice any of his red flags.

summary. 𐙚 ( toxic — smut ) reader is pretty innocent and clueless, love bombing, he does love her but he's still super manipulative ( sexual language, one mention of pet names, stalking, pervert behaviour, rough sex, aftercare implied, legal age-gap implied)

the trainees adore him, that's what you notice first; Ten is everybody's favorite.

well, how could he not be? always greeting his juniors so nicely, remembering most of their names with no issue at all and making small talk at every chance. you fell victim to all of the same questions, the same script:

"I heard you’re not from here, are you?" "how old are you again?" "so, how are you liking the company? planning to run away already?"

all followed by a playful grin, nothing but ease exuding from his presence, calculated to perfection.

Ten is subtle, making sure to hold eye contact with them all for at least a second, giving them the impression — perhaps feeding into the fantasy — that he cares, that they matter. you just happened to be too focused in not making a fool out of yourself to notice his stare following you that day, lingering until you were out of his sight.

not wanting to feed into delusions, you just never paid that much attention to how he acted around you. his voice acute but gentle, pawning your shoulder whenever you’d tell him a joke, his eyes turning into little crescents and his whisker dimples on display as he laughs so prettily at your smallest attempts at being funny. he's so nice, so caring, so smart.

you just got into the company anyway, it's not you'd ever figure out how much more often he shows up at the practice rooms now in comparison to the past. offering his much looked up to critique, his help and his attention without expecting anything in return. at first, other trainees were so blinded by the possibility of being tutored by him that they didn't even notice just how much he loomed around you, how no matter how well you did; he would never praise you like he did with the others. always picking up your smallest mishaps, making sure you fix the littlest angles, correcting you down to the positioning of your toes while not demanding half of the same exigencies from any other trainees. slowly but surely, it got under your skin. he had you trained down to your core, no matter how much validation you had, it wasn’t ever enough. it wasn’t from him.

his torture on your confidence went on for weeks, you're frustrated, anyone can tell. you're working so hard! how can he not see that? there's no doubt that you'll be debuting as the main dancer in any line-up you get, receiving praises left and right, being asked to tutor trainees who are having issues, how can Ten only ever see your mistakes?

It was the last friday of the month, that's when he suggested it — just you two in the practice room every saturday until you got better, until you got perfect. being exactly as dumb as he expected, just as desperate for his praise as he wished, you said yes.

any worries you had about being awkward or looking stupid faded as quickly as your arrival. Ten was just an angel, wasn't he? it's like he knew exactly how to calm you down, conversation flowed so easily, you could swear you'd be hearing his giggles at your smallest comments in your head for days, it was so easy with him, everything was. much like he imagined, you weren't exactly the most attentive to his wandering hands whenever he'd position you into formation, too focused on your own reflection to notice his dark eyes following your every move in the mirror like a predator; waiting for the next time you'd turn your back to him so he could pounce, devour you alive.

mind too focused on his nice words and how well your chemistry played out to notice that despise the fact he was texting you at this exact moment, asking if you got to the dorm safely, you had never given him your number.

he’s just so reliable. Ten doesn’t have a single ounce of hesitation in his body when it comes to helping you, to taking care of you — “he’s just looking out for me. maybe he sees my potential, maybe he sees his younger self in me, whatever it may be; it’s Ten, he means no harm.” you’d try to convince your roommates.

at first they even bought it, but it just kept happening. again and again. first, he got you a cute mini fridge for your room after you mentioned that the dorm’s fridge it’s a nightmare and the girls kept stealing your food. he knew you’d be none the wiser to notice the little camera besides the handle, too focused on the cute stickers he put on the fridge to distract you.

he was right, he always was.

then he offered you his phone, he was buying himself another and you had mentioned needing a new one just yesterday. you wondered if it was too much, but you needed a new phone and his was much better; there’s no way you’d have the money to buy a phone like his any time soon. so you said yes.

it’s not like you’d notice the little viruses wandering free inside your new device, it wasn’t even slow or anything, it was perfect! if you never looked for it, you’d never know that he had access to all of your conversations, your emails and passwords, that he received a notification whenever you took a picture or that he could see your location at all times… and why would you ever look for it? it’s Ten, he told he cleaned out and restarted his phone entirely before giving it to you and you believed him. Just like he knew you would.

he comes into your life like it’s nothing, invites himself into your routine like he always belonged there. messaging you consistently but not enough to overwhelm you, as if there’s a little bird who tells him when you’ve been having a hard time. offering to facetime exclusively when you look well put together, as if he knows when you’re in your pajamas and would be too embarrassed to accept his offer. as if he can see you at all times.

in your eyes, Ten could do no wrong. how could he ever? it’s Ten. even if he was to hurt somebody, he had the best intentions; you’re sure of it.

you’re sure he meant nothing but well when he ignored you for days after you told him you wouldn’t be able to go practice with him — coincidently just a few minutes after you had accepted the invitation to a party on that same day a friend had messaged you.

you didn’t even end up going, too anxious about Ten vanishing out of nowhere, your stomach hurting whenever you thought of the possibility that he got tired of you. after many unread messages, he finally answered; claiming he had been busy and your number got drowned between his work related contacts. you believed him.

you’re sure he just wanted your best when just a couple of weeks after meeting a boy who seemed perfect for you, Ten rushed into the practice room later than usual, a worried look on his face. he held you in his arms as he lied about how that maggot was spreading the most disgusting rumours about you, about your conversations, about your body. he had already convinced the tutors that the little boy was a lost case and was able to get that vermin out of the company in no time. blocked and silenced his number on your contacts right before walking into the room, it’s not like you’d notice.

you listened. looking up to him like a god, you listened. listened as he taught you that guys your age weren’t worthy of your time, that you deserved better; that you deserved a man who could provide you with anything you could ever need.

he asked if you wanted him to keep holding you while you cried in his shoulder, a doll in his embrace. you said yes.

again and again.

you didn’t even let your thoughts begin to question his intentions when Ten invited you to “come hang out” in his apartment instead of practicing that saturday, didn’t question when he claimed to have gotten hurt while performing earlier and was tired.

nothing could waver your trust in Ten, how could anything even attempt to? when he’d given you anything you ever mentioned needing, when he was there for you every single time you needed someone to be, when he had you in the palm of his hands. so carefully crafted for him, so perfectly molded into his little pet.

you had thrown out the possibility of Ten being into you romantically months ago, all of these interactions, all of that touching, and nothing ever happened? yeah, he didn’t see you like that, there was no way.

“he’s paving the way. getting you all dependent on him so he can keep you locked once you’re together. c’mon, that’s like love bombing one-on-one.” one of your roommates tried warning.

“he’s not like that, he sees me as a friend, his junior, that’s it” you’d reply. innocent, dumb, clueless — just they way he liked.

“it’s Ten, he means no harm.”

and that’s what you believed. even after getting into his apartment, lights dim due to his headache, in no time you found yourself curled into his couch while he ordered dinner, talking and laughing about what the manager had told him earlier, his head falling back to the sofa while you two giggled, getting up on his feet faster than you ever could to run back and forth from his room to show you his new nintendo.

he seemed perfectly fine with that headache. you didn’t think much of it. you never did.

he seemed to like it when you didn’t think. he definitely liked the mindlessly desperate sounds you made against his mouth that night, his hands gripping your waistline hard enough to leave it red, your skin buzzing just before he gave himself the freedom to explore your upper body with his warm palms, slipping past your sweater with no problem. his teeth attacking your neck before you could react to his hold on your figure — branded your throat with mark after mark like a cow who just got sold to the slaughter.

even after your unresponsive legs fell to either side of his waist, back in pain from how hard you were subconsciously arching it from the couch, seeking to feel him deeper; you wanted more. you called him every name under the sun — sir, gege, daddy, god — anything that could get him to not stop bruising your core with his hips. he just hurt you so good, who were you to deny him from using your body until he was satisfied while making you feel this heavenly? after all he’s done to you?

even after you somehow found yourself in his bed with half of your face pressed into his sheets as he pushed your head down to get a better angle at pounding into sore, creamy warmth. your backside full of bruises from his rough hands holding you in place whenever he deemed necessary, not a single thought going through that empty, useless spot inside your head you dared to call a brain.

every once in a while you had the strength to open your tear filled eyes, catching a glimpse of your bodies melting together in his mirror, you’d never looked prettier. for just a second you couldn't help but wonder what happened in that performance earlier — there were no signs of “being hurt” anywhere in Ten's body.

you couldn't help but wonder how his bathroom seemed so… ready. everything exactly where it needed to be for him to give you a quick bath after challenging your limits for god knows how many hours. how the food he had supposedly ordered as soon as you arrived, only actually called his apartment after he had laid you in the floral scent of the new sheets on his soft bed.

even after all of it, cuddled up in his arms, relishing on his gentle fingers caressing the back of your head, for nothing more than a second, you wondered.

wondered if you fell right into his trap, if this was his plan all along, if your roommates had been right.

you closed your eyes into his warm neck, left a soft peck in his throat.

it’s Ten, he means no harm.

he kisses your temple, a mean smile pressed to your forehead, caught.

#♱ w2𝑦 #a ten fic with more than 5 notes ?#we're so back #wayv smut #wayv x reader #wayv hard hours #wayv fanfic #ten lee x reader #ten x reader #nct x reader #nct smut

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