Doyoung X Y/n - Tumblr Posts

Code Red!

Kim Doyoung X Black.FemReader ♡

Warnings ⚠️: Mentions of Blood, Period Care, mention of Ex's, embarrassment, potential spelling errors, Fluff ♡

Wordcount: 1,200

It was a Saturday Afternoon, and your classes ended early for you. Your stomach was on fucking fire and you; yourself struggling with symptoms.

You wanted to call your boyfriend but... from past experiences they didn't like that, they thought it was dirty, you were looked at like you hadn't taken care of yourself in ages.

Yes, you managed to walk your ass back to your house, 'upset stomach' banging against your insides. It wasn't a far walk but you were tired indeed..Once you made it home your natural instinct was to rip off your pants and shirt then hit the hay.

And that is exactly what you did. In an instant you were sound asleep. An hour or so later your phone rings, you ignore it.. then rings again, you decline..at least 2 more times then knocking at your door.

You grimace in annoyance, why is everything getting on your nerves today? You opened the door and Doyoung was there. You signed glad he was here, someone who can easily ease your annoyance.

The pain was back so you motioned for him to come in and you quickly went to take a seat,"Hey, why didn't you answer my calls?" He asked worried.."I was napping, im sorry.." He closes the door then walks over to you squatting down in front of you.

"It's okay, I understand..ah-" he reached out to brush your hair from your face, in the process he felt your forehead.

"Y/n– You're burning up.."

"Yeah..its hot in here, ain't it?"

"No, Y/n YOU are burning up." You looked up at him, and he felt your cheek with the palm of his hand. Next thing you know you're being lifted up and carried to you room,"Doyoung..Im fine, I swear-" he moved the covers so that he could set you down then tuck you in.

However, he stopped in his tracks,"Oh Pumpkin." Your breathing staggered,"huh..w-what."

"Here sit right here." He sat you at a wooden stool next to your desk. Doyoung rushed out of your room- and you were still puzzled. Then you saw it, there was blood on you sheets..but when?

You weren't bleeding when you used the bathroom before, so why now. Embarrassment has never hurt so bad. You just know your eyes watered and everything was so blurry.

You darted into the bathroom, humiliated, ashamed. Now your boyfriend left, he's not coming back. Is what you thought. There was a quiet knock on the door and a soft voice behind it.

"Sweat Pea, are you in here?" He knew you were in there, he heard you sniffling,"What do you want?" You heard the doorknob twist but it didn't open due to you locking it beforehand.

"Let me in, Please. I want to make sure you're alright Y/n." To check on me? You thought..thats new. "No, please go, I'll change my sheets and you can excuse yourself." He leaning against the door at this point, lulling you from the other end.

"Sweet Pea, I already changed your sheets."

"Really?" You creep towards the door unlocking it, causeing Doyoung to srumble forward, falling into the bathroom.

"..You weren't lieing–". He walked up to you rubbing the arm he fell on,"Of course not..why would I lie."

"Oh no! Im sorry Doyoung!"

"Its okay, Sweet pea." He smiled sweetly at you, before taking your hand and spinning you around. When you realized what he was doing you quickly covered up. "Sweet Pea..It's really not that bad!"

"No! Its embarrassing.."

"Do you want me to help you with the clean up process?"

You stood ashamed,'How could he ask a question like that?' Clean you? "A-Ah.. No! I'll be out in a minute." You got out the shower..Finally spending at least an hour in there. You were sure Doyoung was gone. You changed into pajamas, finally feeling clean.

"Finally..Thank goodness he's gone-"

"Am not, so rude. You want me gone so badly?- Tsk, Tsk-"

He leaned against your door with arms folded. "I..",you tried looking for the right words, and you couldn't.

"I'm sorry Dong- I just..Why are you still here? Aren't you disgusted by me? Don't you think im filthy?"

He game you a look of puzzlement,"Why would I think that?" You hesitate- "My ex's..they didn't like it. So I just thought–"

You heard footsteps get closer to you,"Sweet Pea, Listen to me. I'm not your ex's, I'm a different person Y/n." He was right, he did have a point.

"It's normal, Im not disgusted by bodily functions", He admitted. "Here, Look at me Y/n, I've got you Princess. Let me take care of you. Okay?"

You nodded, and He gave you a kiss on your forehead. "Hmm..You're not burning up anymore, but I think I still would like you to lay down for a bit."

You listened and got comfortable, having Doyoung tuck you in. He grabbed a stool near-by and sat beside you.

"Is there anything I can get for you?"

"Doyoung, you don't have to. I'm fine."

"Are you sure? I can go get a Heating Pad. A trash can for your nausea? Some pain killers?" You giggled which caused him to ask,"Whats funny Pumpkin?"

"Im sorry Doyoung, you're so cute. You don't have to do anything! I promise I feel better."

"Thank you Y/n, but I think you're the cutest!" He places his fingers on your sides and ticked you, having laughter for the most point but then the 'ouch!' Came.. Doyoung panicked a bit pulling his hands back,"Ah..Im sorry Y/n."

You smiled,"Its okay! Hey uh..I thought of something you could do for me."

"Yes?"

He gets up out of his seat and head to the door, ready for what you were going to request of him.

"Could you cuddle me?"

He smiled,"Oh of course my princess." He crawled onto the bed and stopped when he hovered above you. You reached out hold his face, as he leans into your touch.

"You're too sweet to me, I'm sorry I doubted you Doyoung." He leaned down to kiss you,"Hey, don't worry about it. If I were in your shoes I'd be embarrassed too."

You pulled back the covers allowing Doyoung to get underneath. He lies in front of you getting comfortable beside you. He was laying on top of you a bit, placing his head on your chest. "Doyoung.."

"Hm?" Your hands fiddle with his hair, arms wrapped around his upper back and lower back. "Thank you for being good to me."

He held his head up and looked at you. "Sweet Pea, Stop thanking me and focus on feeling better." He chuckled and lay his head back down.

Then followed by a "You're welcome my beauty. You smiled,"You're so pretty Dong."

"Hush you, its nap time."

"Okay, I love you." He rubs your tummy with his warm hands.

"I love you too princess."

Written On February 4th 2022

Quick statement for people who dont know, I used 'Dong' for short of Doyoung's Real name 'Dong-young' so don't be confused ♡ Ty

last night on earth - i . | kdy

part ii, part iii

you soon find out that there are more dangerous things than the flesh-eating undead during a nationwide implosion. 

pairing: doyoung x reader verse: zombie apocalypse au rating: M for horror themes only ! genre/s: romance, horror/suspense warnings: brief but stil present mentions of and sometimes depictions of violence, mentions of and possible minor character death, language word count:  4.2k

author’s note: i have an unhealthy attachment to this fic and the plan i have for it so please don’t come for my neck !!!!!!!! i simply had to ;~;

It starts off at four in the afternoon with a series of emergency phone calls.

The first is a woman reporting an intruder in her house — nothing the department hasn’t handled before, and it just seems like an isolated criminal case, so they dispatch you and your partner, Youngho, to quickly investigate the situation. Even with Youngho’s less-than-lawful driving speed and his fulfilment of his desire to dramatically enter a house by kicking the door down when no one answers (because he’s always wanted to do that), you find the place lacking in commotion when you arrive. You don’t even have time to contemplate how eerily quiet the house is when both of your phones go off, and you hear the deputy chief’s voice, uncharacteristically ragged, yelling down your line.  

“You two better get your asses back to HQ,” he roars. Even with the volume of his voice, you can’t help but notice the phones ringing off the hook, trills constantly overlapping and being cut short by frantic co-workers answering them two at a time. “We’ve got emergency calls from all over the city, and now the mayor’s on the other line screaming at us to lock the whole city down.”

“A city lockdown?” You’re still expressing your shock to him when you feel yourself being dragged out of the house by Youngho’s unnaturally firm hand. It’s likely he’d gotten the same call from someone else, since he’s urging you to hurry up and get in the car, and he even helps you along by pushing down on your head and practically shoving you into the passenger’s seat. “What the hell for?”  

“Fuck if I know,” he says curtly. “Just hurry already. Chief wants to see everyone, but he wants to talk to both of you, too.”

“But we — ” the deputy chief hangs up before you can get another word out, which is just as well since Youngho had just floored the gas pedal, and the police car revs so loudly you actually feel your ears pop a little. “What the hell — who called you?”

“Chief,” Youngho answers. “Says we need to get back ASAP.”

“Did he tell you why?”

“Yeah, and while he was at it, we had some tea and crackers, and chatted about the weather.” He throws you a patronizing look. “He barely got five angry words out before he hung up.”

“That’s pretty weird.”

“For the chief? Not really.”

You end up agreeing in silence, watching the houses zip by from your window. Everything looks scarily empty in this area; it’s mid-afternoon, though, so you don’t really make much of it, since most people tend to be out for work or just coming home from school at this time. You’re not even really sure why you feel like the street seems so eerie, but you end up brushing it off, allowing your mind to focus on more substantial things, like the sound of static that strengthens and weakens while Youngho fiddles with the police scanner.

That plan of distraction works out for about five minutes, at which point you see an old lady on the sidewalk get tackled to the ground by a flurry of limbs.

Your extremely loud curse word harmonizes with Youngho’s, and the back of your head hits the headrest of your seat hard as he slams down on the brake, the car skidding sideways as its inertia is interrupted and it quite literally swings off course, barely missing a lamppost. The both of you scramble out of the car, pulling out your handguns and positioning them, Youngho’s hand a little steadier than yours, even if you don’t really care to admit it.  

The elderly woman is on the ground, her grocery bags a few feet away from her arms, which are limp for the most part, save a finger or two twitching helplessly in their attempts to reach out at her fallen food. Her attacker, probably a middle-aged man in a business suit, is hovering over her, almost motionless in a pool of her blood that’s slowly creeping past his knees. You’re the first to cock your gun — you can’t imagine why he wouldn’t just run away, but you also can’t imagine why a sensibly dressed human being might go out of his way to attack a harmless old woman.  

Youngho’s gun clicks a few seconds after yours, but the man doesn’t seem to be fazed by it; in fact, he hardly seems to notice, especially since, upon slightly closer observation, he seems to be retching or something over her body. You can’t even mistake it for crying because the sounds are just downright disgusting. Even Youngho’s face, as you observe from the power of peripheral vision, is contorted into this slightly uncomfortable expression.  

You dare to step closer, and Youngho follows suit, but the guy doesn’t budge anyway, too busy probably vomiting over the poor lady to care. It takes all of your willpower not to wrinkle your nose, but the distressingly wet sounds coupled with the new stench that assaults your nose makes it pretty difficult.  

Your partner takes the initiative to speak, because you’re not entirely sure what to say at this point. “Put down whatever weapons you have and step away from the body, sir,” Youngho’s voice is just as steady as his hold on his gun, which is extremely admirable considering that neither of you still have any clue as to what this man is up to. “Any sudden movements or attempts to flee will be met with gunfire.”  

You think the man might start running (as is expected) or might freeze up and beg for mercy (as is also expected), but you don’t expect him to wheel around and sneer at you with blood dripping down his chin and a pearl from the old lady’s necklace trapped between his teeth. The front of his shirt has been ripped open, too, and there are scratches and wounds — bite marks??? — on his skin, many still fresh. His expression isn’t angry, or terrified, or guilty; all you can see on his face is the raging desire to rip the both of you apart with his bare, bloody hands, and he makes this guttural, almost animalistic noise to confirm your theory.  

At this point, neither of you can be expected to stay composed, so both of you let out a panicked appeal to the Lord, turn to instinct, and fire your weapons.

There’s a reaction from him, sure — your bullet hits his chest and Youngho’s hits his shoulder, and his torso kicks back at the force of the impact. He doesn’t topple over, though; he stays snarling at the both of you, maybe a little more perturbed, while the two bullet wounds leak out more blood, even though he doesn’t seem to care about that either.  

“What,” Youngho breathes out; he’s lost a lot of his nerve, and he’s lowered his weapon about halfway, his disbelief taking over. “What in the fuck.”

The sound of Youngho’s voice causes the man to turn sharply to him, teeth bared as wide as his mouth can allow. You don’t know what possesses you to shoot again, but your finger presses against the trigger before you can make a better decision, and the bite of the bullet against the side of his neck causes him to change his target, his murky eyes now fixing on you. He moves himself off his knees in a strangely limp fashion, at which point, the idea that something really isn’t right hits you, and you pull at Youngho’s arm, which has once again raised quickly in response.  

“We need to go,” your voice is weak. “Like, right fucking now.”

Youngho stepping back is enough to confuse the guy, who’s now looking back and forth between the both of you like he can’t decide which one he wants to start ripping apart first. The decision doesn’t seem to matter to him at the end of the day, though, because he eventually puts it aside and decides to charge at you with his arms out, screeching horribly, a trail of blood and saliva still hanging off his lips.

“Oh fuck me —“ Youngho manages to wheeze out, panickedly grabbing your arm as well and dragging you back towards the car. You both fumble with the door, and it doesn’t help that you can just hear the growling getting closer. A stream of swear words fills the car as Youngho shuts his door and tries to insert the keys into the ignition.  

“Hurry up,” you half-scream. “Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up —”

“Will you shut up?” He snaps, finally jamming the keys in and bringing the engine to life.  

“Youngho, go!”

“Shut up!”

Both of you yell when you feel something hit the driver’s side of the car; it rocks a little, and you see hands clawing at Youngho’s window, nails screeching against the glass; Youngho manages to hit the gas just as the man’s snarling head comes up into view, and you feel a slightly less heavy thud hit the vehicle again as you leave his battered body behind in a frenzy of smoke and dust.

Nothing much passes between you at first; you’re both breathing so heavily it kind of feels like you’re sucking up all the oxygen in the car. Both of you start (Youngho almost hitting the brakes in full again) when you phone starts ringing loudly.

“Where the hell are you two?” The deputy chief bellows; you can actually hear his enraged breathing punctuate his question for a brief second. “I told you to get back here right away!”

“Sir, there was this man that attacked —“

“I don’t care what you two have been doing! Just be here in the next five minutes!”  

Even the click of the phone sounds angry, and you let out a groan, tossing your phone onto the dashboard. “Whatever your speed is, double it.”

Youngho is still evidently a little shaken, and he complies without question on the matter, knuckles white as his hands grip the steering wheel. “What the hell just happened, ________________?”

“I don’t know,” you admit. “Mental illness? Drug abuse, maybe?”

“He was eating her. He’d chomped down on half of her neck muscles in a minute.”  

“I don’t know, Youngho,” you repeat. “Did you ever read that story about that guy who ate another guy in Florida? He was sick, too.”

“Yeah, but he was shot to death by the police,” he reminds you. “Which didn’t happen, in our case.”  

“Bulletproof vest?”

“He was bleeding, dumbass.”

You decide to let the insult slide given that it was obvious the both of you were dancing around on your last nerves. Crimes for personal gain were one thing;  petty theft, home intrusions, bank robberies were all pretty standard and, while unlawful, hardly gave you the kind of creeps you were experiencing now. Homicides were a slightly separate issue and much more disturbing, but you’ve never had to deal with a case of someone killing someone, eating them, and then refusing to die when shot. Until today, that is.  

The both of you sit through the rest of the car ride in silence, Youngho weaving his way through the traffic jam at the rotary. He ends up having to turn on the siren, but it’s of little help, and the deputy chief ends up having to call you again right as you’re pulling up to headquarters. He’s red in the face and about ready to gnaw your heads off when you rush in, breathless and apologetic.

“Can it,” he puts up a hand as you open your mouth to explain. “I don’t give a shit. The whole city’s on lockdown process right now. The mayor wants our full attention on keeping civilians safe from the crisis.”

“What crisis?” Youngho bursts out; he hardly talks over authority, which sort of shocks the deputy chief into a brief spell of silence. “Sir, we’ve just seen a man murder an innocent woman on the street, and he —“

“There are bigger issues than that,” the deputy chief snaps. “Big mobs and mass riots have been cropping up all over different districts. Jung-gu and Mapo-gu have already shut down. We’ve been getting reports that a horde of people have just started raiding and attacking establishments and offices. The entire subway system closed down, too. We’ve already sent out some people to help mitigate the fighting and a bunch of other corporals to watch the city borders. It’s like the fucking purge, except no one knows what started it.”

“So why does the chief need us?”

“Ask him; he’s on the phone with the mayor right now, but he’s also been looking for the both of you. Maybe the next time you two are given an order, you’ll actually do it on time.”

He jerks an annoyed thumb to the chief’s office before stalking off, pulling out his phone to yell at someone else. You and Youngho exchange a look of alarm before walking up to the door. A silent, irritating debate on who should knock ensues, ending when you smack his scissors away with your paper and rap shortly on the door.

“Come in.”

You turn the knob and let the door swing open before pushing Youngho inside; he makes a noise of protest he has to kill immediately when the chief looks up with a grim face, putting the phone back in to the receiver.

“I’m assuming Deputy Choi has already told you about the situation in the financial district.”

“Yes, sir,” you respond simultaneously.

“The mayor wanted the city locked down, but he also wanted some of our people looking after the officials in this city. I’m sending out some of our corporals to guard the senators and high-profile conglomerate business owners in Gangnam-gu.”

Once again, you and Youngho turn to each other in confusion. “But, sir, we’re not —“

“What I’m getting at,” he silences Youngho, who sucks in his lips so far back he looks like an elderly man. “Is that I’m promoting you two. We’re short a few people who can do this job right, and you’re two of the only officers with enough years under their belt to qualify to some degree.”  

“Um — thank you, sir,” you start. “But I still don’t understand what —“

“Do either of you two know anything about Kangwoo Logistics?”

“They’re a shipping and manufacturing company,” Youngho answers, then adds under his voice. “My refrigerator is from them.”

“The family that owns it is living in Gangnam; their CEO is living Gangnamdaero and their COO is in Apgujeong. Flip a coin to see who goes where; I don’t care. I need both of you stationed at their doors and ready to gun down anything that might come after them.”

“What’s coming after them, chief?”

He sighs deeply as he picks up the phone, avoiding your eyes as he punches in a number and responds to your question.

“Hell.”

You and Youngho play two rounds of rock, paper, scissors that ends in a 1-all win. He calls dibs on keeping the police car, and you get to choose Apgujeong because it’s closer to your parents’ house, just in case you need to take a shower or raid their fridge, or something. The entire building is going to be locked down as well since all the other officers are on duty, and you’re both cleaning out your locker when the deputy chief comes around and tosses two bulletproof vests at you.  

“Promotion gift,” he says gruffly. “You’re gonna need it.”  

“Thank you, sir,” Youngho picks up his and slips it on; it sits well on his shoulders, whereas yours almost drowns you. You throw the deputy chief a distressed look, and he has the decency to respond with a sheepish one.  

“We didn’t really have a lot of options on hand. You can just pad it out with an extra shirt.”  

“Sir,” you tug off the vest, setting it on top of your bag. “About this afternoon — Officer Seo and I were hoping to bring it up with you.”  

“What about it?”

“We saw a man attack an old woman. At first we thought it was just a…” you pause; you don’t even really know what it seemed like, let alone what it was. “We thought it was just a random murder, but when we got closer he —“

“Attacked you?” You nod slowly. “What did he do? To the old woman.”

“He was… he was… eating her, sir. It looked like he’d taken a bite out of her neck.”

You expect the deputy chief to look shocked or, at the very least, disgusted, but all he does is sigh heavily, like he’d gotten really disappointing news. “It’s been happening all over the city. People randomly attacking others; and they all end up acting like rabid animals.”  

“But what is it, sir?” Youngho pipes in.  

“We don’t know. No one really does. Which is why you have to keep a good watch out. The chief’s going to have your ass if anything happens to them.”  

“They’re not politicians or anything,” Youngho, who’s been admiring his reflection surreptitiously in his locker mirror, finally slips off the vest and stuffs it in his bag as well. “What makes them so important?”

“Beats me. But the mayor asked for some of our people to be sent over to them, so that’s what we’re doing.”  

He ushers you out, reminding you to keep your phone lines open at all times, and you and Youngho pile into the car once again, setting off for Apgujeong. You hardly hit any traffic now, which is fine time-wise, but it’s also not normal for Gangnam at this time — couple that with the fact that most places have closed shop.  

“Even Starbucks is closing,” Youngho remarks in some awe. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a closed Starbucks.”  

“Will you focus on driving? We really don’t need another death on our hands today.”  

“Just type the address,” he says snippily, shoving the paper in your face and letting you key in the street name. The GPS rattles out directions, taking you down Apgujeong Rodeo Street and into the more residential parts of town.  

“Jesus Christ,” you press your face against the window, jaw hanging open. “They even trashed the cinema.”

“So we have ourselves some… popcorn-loving cannibals? Like, maybe they use it as a side dish to human flesh.”

“That’s totally disgusting.”

“I was just trying to lighten the mood. I don’t think — what’s his name? Kim Doyoung-nim is going to appreciate his bodyguard not having a sense of humor.”

“Bodyguards aren’t supposed to have senses of humor,” you frown. “And I’m not a bodyguard. I’m a police officer.”

“Yeah, well, starting today you’re a bodyguard with a cool badge,” he drums his fingers on the steering wheel. “We both are.”  

“We got a promotion, and you’re talking like this is the stupidest thing that’s ever happened in your career.”

“We got a promotion so we could be babysitters, ___________________,” he sighs, like he can’t believe you’re being this foolish. “Instead of being out there, helping people and saving the world, we have to coddle two rich dudes. We’re going to be going out and picking up their laundry and making sure they eat their vegetables before tucking them into bed. Please tell me what isn’t stupid about this situation.”

“They’re important people; the mayor asked for them to be protected.”

“Because they have a couple of cool boats and have a pretty good name in the kitchen appliances industry?”  

“I — just shut up,” you wave him off, folding your arms across your chest. He snorts, slowing down the car as he pulls into a narrow street with a row of huge houses. The street isn’t actually narrow by nature, but there are so many cars parallel parked on either side of the road that you feel like you have to suck in your stomach so that the police car can fit between them.

“Smell that? It’s the smell of pampered chaebol kids and the leather on their expensive sports cars.”  

“Give it a rest. Pull up here — right here.” You point to a mailbox with gold numbers on its side that match the address on the paper. “I think this is it.”

“Do you need help with any of your stuff?” Youngho calls out as you push the door open, and you wave off his question as you make your way to the trunk, pulling out your bag. You really do need to go to your parents’ place; apart from the vest, you only have one change of clothes and two pairs of socks. You make a mental note to call them about it.  

Youngho rolls down the window as you walk up to the mailbox, sticking his big head out. “Are you going be okay?”

“I guess so,” you adjust the strap of your bag on your shoulder and pat your bulletproof vest reassuringly. “I should probably head in now. Let me know when you get to Kim Jungwoo-ssi’s house.”

“Yeah, I will. Let me know if Kim Doyoung-ssi’s house really does have six bathrooms, like I suspect it does,” Youngho laughs, but there’s no real mirth to his voice; it’s just for show, really. His expression softens when you don’t join in. “Don’t die, okay? I’ll kill you if you do.”

“Please,” it’s your turn to laugh, even if your voice is trembling a little. “You know we’re both invincible.”  

“Damn straight,” he ducks back into the car, rolling the window up. You stand on the sidewalk, waving at him, and you see the white of his palm wave back from inside the car as he drives away, trying really hard not to feel like this is some kind of last goodbye.  

You have to take two deep breaths to steady yourself before you walk up the driveway; Kim Doyoung clearly lives a comfortable life, with two sports cars parked in front of his house and a well — who the hell has a well in their damn garden? Maybe Youngho’s right — it’s wholly possible that this monstrously large mansion does have six bathrooms.

What it doesn’t have is a proper doorbell, however; you can see that there’s an intercom system with a camera, and it’s obvious that it would be the way to announce your presence, but you still spend two minutes checking out the door just to see if you can ring a more normal bell so you can avoid having to be seen by this guy without seeing him back. Of course, there’s nothing, so you either have to content yourself with the camera-bell system or knock.  

You can hear the trill of the music when you press the button; a couple of seconds later, you hear a male voice, a lot softer than you’d imagined, come through the speaker.  

“Who is it?”  

“Um — Kim Doyoung-nim? It’s Corporal ____________, from the Gangnam-gu Police Department.”

A soft sigh punctuates the brief and honestly awkward exchange; a couple of minutes later, the door opens, and you find yourself face to face with a young man. In his loose sweatshirt and pants, he doesn’t look like he could afford to pay the rent for one of the rooms of the house, let alone actually own it. Half his body is still behind the door; in the shadow it casts over him, you can barely see his face. The only indication that he is the guy you’re looking for is his question.

“How can I help you, officer?”  

“The mayor sent me. I’m here to protect you, sir.”

He’s clearly taken aback by this information because the door widens a fraction as he lets go of the knob. “Protect… me?”

“Yes, sir. There’s mass rioting going on in other parts of the district, so we need to secure your home right away.”  

He doesn’t respond immediately; you can hear the click of the knob as he turns it — once, twice, thrice. Finally, he sighs again, heavier this time.  

“I’m sorry for making you come all the way here, but you need to leave.”  

It’s your turn to be taken aback now, but you don’t express this feeling as silently; you sputter a little, whatever composure you had slipping off a bit more. “But — sir, my orders were to —“  

“I don’t need your protection,” he says more firmly now. “Good day to you, officer.”  

You can’t even imagine how thunderstruck your expression is when he shuts the door right in your face.  

last night on earth - ii . | kdy

part i, part iii

you soon find out that there are more dangerous things than the flesh-eating undead during a nationwide implosion.

pairing: doyoung x reader verse: zombie apocalypse au rating: M for horror themes only ! genre/s: romance, horror/suspense warnings: brief but still present mentions of and sometimes depictions of violence, mentions of and possible character death, language word count: 5.5k  

author’s note: interestingly while i was at work the other day i found my original 10 chapter + epilogue plan for this so i guess past!me was kind of a real one 

The next five minutes involve the tedious process of you gaping at the door while you attempt to come to terms with what had just happened, your jaw opening and closing like you’re a goldfish; you trying to ring the doorbell again and talk through the microphone even though you know it isn’t on; and giving up on that entirely and rapping on the door, your knuckles growing redder with each knock.

“Kim Doyoung-ssi. Kim Doyoung-ssi?” You call out in increasing levels of volume and intensity. “I think we’ve had a little bit of a misunderstanding. Can you — could you please open the door? Kim Doyoung-ssi?”  

Your knocking grows weaker as time passes, mostly because your fist is starting to experience some kind of burning sensation that can’t mean anything good; you can also tell that this pain is in vain and that your current tactic is totally ineffective considering you’re still not getting a response.  

From the corner of your eye, you see an open window, just over the well in the garden. You end up calling his name, face tilted towards the window in the hope that he can hear you better. Nothing happens, save for the curtain blowing a little in the wind. Even standing on the stool next to the well doesn’t give you any kind of clue as to where he is, so after a few more minutes of futilely calling out to him, you just march back to the front door.  

“I know you can hear me in there, Kim Doyoung-ssi!” You finally reach the breaking point of your patience, which had already been worn down by two trips across town and your having witnessed a full on inexplicable cannibal attack. “I’m staying right here!”  

You toss your bag to the side and slump down onto the marble patio, your back finally getting some damn relief when you lean back against the cold, varnished wood of his big doors. There’s nothing else for you to do apart from play games on your phone, so you pull it out to see a couple of texts from Youngho.  

[ incoming ] 영호- just got to gangnamdaero. kim jungwoo makes his brother look like a beggar looool [ incoming ] 영호- what’s going on w/ u

you make an incensed noise and type back your reply so angrily you think your screen might crack.  

[ outgoing ] asshole won’t let me into his house!!!!!!

The more you think about it, the more your irritation grows; you can’t see a reason why he wouldn’t want some extra security. Was his entire property booby trapped, or something? What made him so complacent? And who turns down extra security that’s being offered to you for free? The only explanation you can come up for it is that he’s somehow convinced he doesn’t need your protection or doesn’t think you can do a good job of providing it for him, which just opens up another can of worms. South Korea isn’t really well-known for letting women take up civil protection positions. This is all just guesswork, of course, but even considering that he might think you’re not qualified to be his — as Youngho would put it — babysitter because you’re a girl is really riling you up.

Your phone trills again, signaling a new message from Youngho.

[ incoming ] 영호 - what do you mean he won’t let you in

[ outgoing ] i mean i’m just sitting out here after he shut the door in my face

[ incoming ] 영호 - does he know you’re a police officer? maybe he thinks ur just trying to get into his pockets [ incoming ] 영호 - or his pants lol jk just ring the doorbell again and tell him the mayor sent you [ incoming ] 영호 - kim jungwoo has an indoor pool

[ outgoing ] can you not text so smugly

[ incoming ] 영호 - i’m trying but he did just say i could use it whenever so it’s kind of hard

[ outgoing ] so much for protecting him

[ incoming ] 영호 - nothing’s going on here. It’s all clear. maybe the whole crisis is over? kind of like seasonal flu

[ outgoing ] you just want to go swimming

[ incoming ] 영호 - yeah i REALLY do ttyl gonna do a perimeter check

So much for Youngho criticizing all the rich people. You look up at the doorbell, wondering if you should try ringing it again, but the thought of doing so somehow makes you feel itchy on the inside. In the end, you decide to follow in Youngho’s footsteps and do a perimeter check, except you sort of feel like an intruder trying to figure out the right way to break into Kim Doyoung’s house. He has a pretty wide backyard with a substantially diverse bed of flowers, but there’s nothing much special here; it’s more typical “city-rich boy that spends more time outside” than outright ostentatious and lavish — at least, in comparison to what Youngho must be seeing, considering he’s already found an indoor pool. You count his windows, and none of them are open save the one, so it’s either he has a centralized air-conditioning system or he’s suffering in stuffiness because he just doesn’t want you inside. The latter possibility makes you feel a little better.

All in all, you note nothing out of the ordinary; you circle back to the front door in about ten minutes. You only note a couple of high-risk things: first, his house has a number of large windows that are latch-based, which means that anyone with decent knowledge on tools and how basic mechanisms work can probably break into his house, but he must have some kind of alarm system, considering how loaded he is. Second, and more importantly, a couple of rooms in his house are more glass than any other kind of material; while more of a natural disaster risk than anything else, you can’t rule out the fact that a mass attack on this place might use those rooms as an entry point. Heck, a couple of well-aimed bullets and those rooms become part of his backyard.  

You’re technically supposed to report all of this to him, but it’s not like you can at this point, so you just sit back down and take out your phone again. Youngho must be having the time of his life with a guy willing to give him a roof over his head for the night and a dip in his cool indoor pool while you have to figure out how you’re going to sleep on your clothes and use them tomorrow morning. You think about asking him to come pick you up or something or to at least tell Kim Jungwoo to talk some sense into his brother, but both of those options sound childish, which is why you end up putting them aside and just playing stupid match-three games.

The sun is more than halfway down when you get tired of playing; the street is still as quiet as it had been when you’d arrived, save for the crickets, but the slowly growing darkness makes the silence seem so much more sinister. You’re torn between ringing the doorbell again just to beg or running over to a convenience store to get some extra underwear and some beef jerky for the night when your phone rings, almost scaring you into screaming. It isn’t Youngho, like you’d initially assumed; it’s the deputy chief.  

“Corporal Seo told me you’re having some issues.” He sounds exasperated, like he can’t believe he still has to supervise you even until this point.  

“Um,” you can’t keep the sheepishness out of your voice. “A… little.”

“A little? I hope you’re not wasting anyone’s time here.”

“Kim Doyoung-ssi isn’t… keen on being protected. He sent me away.”

“God. Don’t tell me you actually left,” he groans.  

“No — I’m just out here.” You reply lamely. “At his front door.”

“Well, good. Stay there if you have to. I’ll tell someone to come check on you and bring you any necessities once we have a warm body to spare, but it’s not looking likely. We’re getting non-stop reports of escalation in Seollung and Samseong. Yeongdong-daero is practically a war zone now. More dead than alive there. We’re not dealing with anything normal here, so you need to be on your toes at all times.”

“Sir — what do you mean, not anything normal?”

“That attack you and Corporal Seo mentioned this afternoon? It’s not an isolated case. More and more people are turning rabid, like they’re sick and they’re infecting others by attacking them.” He pauses, and you’re sure it’s not for dramatic effect, but it still ends up dramatic when he continues. “They’re indiscriminate, vicious, and fast. There’s no easy way to gun them down. And the people they kill? They don’t stay dead for very long, either.”

“Then what do we do?”

“Are you a religious woman, corporal?”

“Not particularly.”

“Might want to start picking up a Bible if you have the time.” His consequent chuckle is dark, half-hearted, and leaves you more disturbed than amused. “Keep steady at your post. We’ll update you when we can get a man out there. In the meantime, make sure nothing happens to Kim Doyoung-nim.”  

You hang up with the feeling that you would have preferred it if Youngho had called, even if it were just to gloat about floating around in a nice, safe indoor pool. With a groan, you lean your head back against the door, watching the last of the sun dip down beneath the horizon. Somewhere on the second floor, a room is lit, and the light provides you with the minimal comfort that you’re, at least, not entirely alone.  

Seconds morph into minutes, and the minutes blend into the long stretch of an hour; you shift positions here and there, trying to not let your feet fall asleep in case you have to get up quickly, but, so far, your left leg is refusing to cooperate. At one point, you hear rustling near the hedges, and you have to deal with trying to get off your ass without putting too much weight on your foot, but it turns out to be a false alarm halfway through when a stray cat peers out, gives you a tiny glare, and stalks off to bother someone else’s trash.  

A little over an hour passes, which leads you to start thinking about long-term options, but even that train of thought is totally derailed by the fact that you really want to get cleaned up. You’re weighing how much of your dignity you’ll have left if you use the well as your last-resort shower stall when the door suddenly opens; you jackknife off it just in time to avoid falling backward onto Kim Doyoung’s feet.  

“You’re still here.” He observes softly, watching you scramble up and silence your phone, which had just been obnoxiously playing music at the highest volume. “Why?”  

“Like I said, I’m staying right here. My job is to protect you, so I’m doing just that.”  

“And you’re doing this to the grating tune of Sunmi’s Siren?”

“Well, I —“ you have to stop yourself from defending your musical tastes, but in the time it takes you to switch from an indignant mindset to a more professional one, he cuts you off again.  

“I’m not comfortable with a stranger sitting outside my front door overnight. And, like I said, I don’t need your protection. You would be doing us both a favor if you just went home, officer.”  

“I’m sorry, but I can’t do that,” you say, inwardly pleased that your voice has regained a lot more of the firmness you need to make your point. “The mayor asked the police department to watch over you and your brother. This is me, acting on an order.”

“If you’re meant to be my bodyguard —”

“I’m not your bodyguard,” you bristle. Something like amusement passes across his face.

“If you’re meant to be protecting me, then you’re, in a sense, contractually bound to me. That means that I’m currently first in the line of authority. Just think of this as me… retracting the contract early.”  

“That’s really not how this works.”  

“Have a good night, officer,” he makes to shut the door again, but your irritation from the absurdity of the situation as well as your desperation to sit on a surface that isn’t just marble floor causes you to stick your foot in the doorway, effectively stopping it from closing all the way. Kim Doyoung looks down at it in some surprise.  

“Kim Doyoung-ssi, I don’t think you understand. The entirety of Seoul is on lockdown. There are people randomly killing other people with their bare hands in the street. These people — they’re turning into monsters that can’t be killed. I don’t know if this is a blow to your pride, but if I were offered protection from something like this, I’d take it gladly.”

“I know what’s going on,” he frowns. “I’ve been watching the news. And it doesn’t look like you’d be able to stop anything from coming after me, so why risk it?”

Your lips press into a thin line. “If you’re so bothered by it, then I can call the department and ask them to send their first free male officer to your house as soon as possible. But for now, you’re just going to have to deal with me.”

“What — no,” he has the audacity to laugh, and even in the cloud of annoyance that surrounds you, you notice that it’s a laugh that doesn’t really suit him. Guys tend to laugh loudly, without restraint, and oftentimes, sort of… ugly. Not this guy — the chuckle he creates is all teeth and soft sounds, sort of like he’s holding himself back. “It’s not because you’re a woman. I’m sure you’re just as capable as anyone else. I just don’t see the point in added security. That just means one more person dying because of me.”

“Like I said,” you repeat the phrase that’s sort of becoming trademark in this interaction. “It’s my job. We’re supposed to be putting our lives on the line for civilians — which, I think, include you.”  

“So you’re okay with that? Dying because of a stranger?”

“Dying because I’m doing what I have to — what I love to? That doesn’t sound bad to me, Kim Doyoung-ssi.”

“That’s very noble of you, officer,” his consequent smile isn’t as genuine as his laugh; it hardly reaches his eyes. “But I’m not keen on watching someone else die for me and living with the guilt that comes after that. I already have a lot on my plate as it is.”  

“Well, that just means I’ll have to do everything I can to keep us both alive, right?”  

Silence blossoms between the two of you; his fingers are rolling the doorknob idly, and you can practically hear the gears turning in his head. Finally, he lets out a characteristically heavy sigh and opens the door a little wider.  

“I’m not comfortable with you staying outside, so you can stay tonight. I’ll call the mayor tomorrow and talk to him about duty relief for you.”  

You catch yourself just before you make a noise of relief and hurry to pick up what little you’ve brought. He’s already halfway inside when you straighten up, but he’s left the door open for you, so you quietly make your way in, shutting and locking the door behind you.  

“Living room, kitchen, study, bathroom, den,” he points to each room nonchalantly. You can hear noise coming from somewhere upstairs — probably a television opened to the news. “But you already knew that.”

“Excuse me?”

“Or was I wrong in assuming that you weren’t figuring it out when you were snooping around my house?”

“Wha —hold on, I was doing a perimeter check,” You say defensively. “I didn’t make a detailed map.”  

There it is again — that suppressed ghost of a laugh that comes one second and is completely gone the next. “Just trying to lighten the mood a little.”  

“My sense of humor isn’t that sharp.”  

“I can tell,” he turns away from you, making his way up the stairs before stopping halfway, raising an arm to point to the door closest to the landing. “This is my room. Feel free to use any other guest room tonight. Oh — except for the one furthest down the hall.” The puzzled look on your face probably gives away the fact that you’re thinking he must be full of ugly or kinky secrets, and while you don’t verbalize any of these thoughts, his response suggests that he read your expression accurately. “It’s my girlfriend’s room. She has a lot of valuable stuff there, and she prefers it when they’re left untouched; she’s really particular about that.”

“Is your girlfriend on the premises?”  

“Not now, no. She only stays occasionally, when work brings her into Seoul. Most of the time, she lives with her family in Daegu.”  

“Oh. I see.” You have no idea what to say to this, and he doesn’t invite any more conversation either, so you spend another minute staring at each other before you lamely announce, “I’ll… be checking the perimeter, then.”

“I thought you already did that.” He’s amused again.

“I meant — security systems. Here. Inside. Reinforcement planning.”

“Reinforcement?”

“Your glass rooms are just begging to be shattered.” You explain.  

“Poor architectural choices back when I first bought this place. But I’m assuming you’re not planning to nail bits of wood to them.”

“No, but I can see if we can install some kind of frontline barrier outside them. Do you have a CCTV system?”

“Not at the moment.” You stop yourself from asking what kind of rich guy doesn’t have a security system, but you once again assume he’s already anticipated that question through his follow-up statement. “Up until very recently, this has been a very safe neighborhood. No anomalies, no strange people hanging around my property until today.”  

“I did find an intruder cat a while ago,” you take a stab at being funny. That weak little smile creeps back onto his face.  

“I wasn’t talking about the cats.”  

Even though you’re supposed to put security first, you end up just idly milling around the glass room previously identified as the den — which is about the size of your apartment, probably — thinking of how much you want to shampoo your hair and how much you would actually kill to have some corn cheese from the nearest GS25. The moment you hear Kim Doyoung’s bedroom door close, you hurry up the stairs. It only takes you one other try to find a guest room (the first attempt being a pretty sizable bathroom) and five minutes to rid yourself of your sticky uniform and hop into the shower.  

You come out feeling like a decent human being again about fifteen minutes later, and your mood takes a pretty big spike upwards for about two seconds, up until your singular set of clothes reminds you that you’re really only here for one night, and you have no clue how you’re going to explain being relieved of the one job you were promoted for not even 24 hours in. You’re toweling your hair dry in an increasingly aggravated manner when your phone starts blaring again, and it’s actually Youngho this time.  

“Turn the video on,” he says, inappropriately gleeful. “I want to see you roughing it outside.”  

“I’m inside, you dick,” you snap, rejecting his request to switch to video twice. “Don’t you have a job to do?”  

“Yeah, and it’s going really well, thanks for asking. How’d you get him to let you in?”

“I didn’t really. He just sort of gave up on keeping me out. He says he’s going to call the mayor tomorrow and ask him to retract the order.” You pause before finally letting your anxiety get the best of you. “You don’t think I’m going to get demoted for this, right?”

“I doubt it,” Youngho, for the most part, actually sounds genuine. “It’s not like it’s your fault that Kim Doyoung-ssi is all about doing things himself. Worst case scenario is that you’ll get reassigned to some other similarly stuffy, rich, and ancient guy.”

“He’s, like, our age.”

“I know. You’re missing my point entirely. Just stop worrying.”  

“Yeah, you’re right,” you sigh, tossing the wet towel into the hamper. You’ve forgotten your comb, so you just wing it and go out of your room, haphazardly running your fingers through your hair to tame it to a degree. “So have you had any problems on your end?”

“Not at all. It’s way quiet here. Actually, I’m pretty sure half the people in this neighborhood don’t care that there’s something going on outside. There was a couple hosting a barbecue on their front lawn an hour ago. You?”  

“Nope, all clear here, so far.” The television sounds are louder this time, and they’re no longer coming from Kim Doyoung’s bedroom; they’re coming from the living room now, and the volume is up to full blast. You peek over the banister, but the owner of the house isn’t on any of the couches. “Just an empty street, the same way we found it.”

“I hope that means we can leave soon.”

“Yeah, because you’re having such a difficult time with Kim Jungwoo-ssi’s swimming pool there.”

“He’s got table football here,” he sounds pleased again. “And my guest room has a TV bigger than any of the walls in my apartment.”

“The shower in my room has nice water pressure,” you argue, taking slow steps down the stairs. “Also, I feel like you’re not really doing your job that well.”

“That’s very hurtful, and I’d like to bring this up during partner therapy next week.”

“I’ll let you, if we actually make it through the week.” You finally reach the bottom of the stairs. Youngho’s wheeze of a laugh brings a tiny, tired smile to your face.

“That’s very optimistic of you.” You’re about to bite back when you hear a brief clatter and a weak groan coming from the kitchen. Alarmed, you don’t even bother to hang up on Youngho; he’s still talking about the view of the city from his really big window while you hurry to the source of the noise. You don’t have your gun on hand, so you make do by grabbing an umbrella from the rack by the front door and rushing into the kitchen, holding it aloft.

You almost whack Kim Doyoung with his own umbrella, but you luckily stop yourself before it comes to that. There’s a metal spatula on the floor, and right next to it is a pan on its side, resting on the front of his oven and a half-cooked egg spilling out from its edge, the yolk slowly crawling towards your feet.  

“I’m… going to call you back,” you tell Youngho, who’s still babbling about how great Kim Jungwoo(’s house) is when you hang up.  

“The handle was hotter than I expected.” Kim Doyoung sounds abashed. For some reason, this makes him look… less intimidatingly closed-off and a little more personable. “I should have gotten a towel, or something.”

“Or an oven mitt,” you agree, tugging at the hand towel hanging on the refrigerator handle and picking up the pan. He watches you a little helplessly before deciding he’s being kind of useless and picking up the spatula, using it to edge the pan slowly into the kitchen sink. You both take handfuls of tissue to wipe off the mess of egg on the floor, but all you seem to be doing is spreading it around a little more, so you end up going for a quick solution method and pouring isopropyl alcohol onto it and letting a new batch of tissues soak it up.  

“I don’t want to sound like I’m telling you how to do your job,” he starts slowly. “But don’t cops usually have guns?”

“I was improvising,” you hide the umbrella behind your back. “I left my gun upstairs, and I thought you might have been in trouble.”

“Oh. In that case, I’m sorry for worrying you.”  

“I also don’t want to sound like I’m telling you how to do your job, especially because I, quite frankly, don’t even really understand what that is,” you toss the egg-wet tissues into the bin. “But wouldn’t someone who cooks with a pan that has a metal handle know that they have to hold their pans with protection?”  

“I don’t cook in this house,” he looks a little sheepish now. “I never have.”

“Personal chef, then?”

“No. I just eat out. All the time.”  

“So this huge kitchen space with its fancy appliances is basically your girlfriend’s territory only.“

“Actually, it just came with the house. No one really uses it. Well, until I tried to right now.”  

It dawns on you that the embarrassment shining through his face might be the product of him botching a meal he was trying to cook for you. It’s almost laughable, but you think it’s way too mean to even smile, considering the gesture was pretty polite, although the results were disastrous in themselves. “Let’s… try not to break the tradition of you not using your kitchen tonight. Did you really want an egg for dinner, or was that just a spur of the moment choice?”

“It was more of a that’s the only thing I have in my fridge choice,” he chuckles softly.  

“I guess it would be good to stock up on everything tomorrow if we — you, I mean — are going to be holing up here for the foreseeable future.” You try not to sound too bitter about having a deadline for when you have to leave, even if it kind of hurts your pride, but Kim Doyoung’s face morphs into something apologetic as he slowly rinses the pan and the spatula. “I can do that before I leave. It’d be better if you didn’t leave your house, just to be safe.”  

“How will you get to the grocery, though?”  

“I’ll ask someone to give me a ride.”  

“The person you were on the phone with?” He dries the pan off and sets it on the induction stove again. “Was that your boyfriend?”

“Oh — no, that was my partner. He’s with your brother right now, actually.”  

“I see.” He pauses like he’s weighing out his options before asking, "How is my brother? Is he doing okay?”  

“From what my partner told me, he’s fine. More than fine, actually. Youngho’s been enjoying your brother’s house since he got there.”  

He lets out a soft breath that could probably pass off as a laugh. “That’s good, I guess.”  

You don’t want to entertain an off-handed answer with anything to open another short-lived conversation, so you just go to the refrigerator, opening it to find, as expected, nothing more than a carton of eggs, some pomegranate juice, and a chocolate bar with a ribbon on it. You survey the rest of the kitchen for any indication of rice, but you can’t even see a rice cooker, so you decide you should just double up on the eggs.  

“I’m sorry,” he ends up creating his own conversation starter as you nudge the eggs around with the spatula. “For putting even this on you.”

“It’s not a big deal,” you’re sincere about this, and you hope it translates in your tone. “They’re just eggs. And I guess making sure we don’t starve to death is kind of like protection in a way.”

“All the same, thank you, officer.”  

“You’re welcome, Kim Doyoung-ssi. And it’s just ______________. Officer makes it sound like I’m arresting you.”

“Then it’s just Doyoung. Kim Doyoung-ssi makes it sound like you work for me.”

“According to you, don’t I?” His laugh is muffled as he ducks down to get two plates. You use the spatula to stab a haphazard half-line between the eggs, and you tip a serving onto each plate, which he then brings to the kitchen table. “Since you don’t cook, maybe it would be better if I got you some pre-packed food.”  

“Like?”

“Like ramyun. Or chicken wraps. Or those soup packets where all you do is add water.”  

“I’m sure I’ll find a way to not do that well, but the other things sound good,” he concedes. “I haven’t had ramyun in ten years, at the least.”  

“It’s good when you add egg to it. Or you can add kimchi. We should probably get you that, too.”

“I think that should be first priority,” he agrees, stabbing into his eggs; he inhales them to consume, like they’re noodles, which is an admittedly amusing sight. “Considering that’s the lifeblood of every Korean.”

“That, and rice, which you don’t seem to have in here.”  

“I don’t cook, remember? I can’t even remember the last time I used a rice cooker on my own.”

“Well, if you have one, I could teach you before I leave.”  

“That… would be appreciated,” he says slowly, starting to look uncomfortable as he slows down his eating.

“Um — are they not cooked well?” You ask, worried.  

“No, it’s not that. It’s just — I don’t want you to think I’m asking you to leave just because —“  

A loud banging interrupts him, and you both turn your attention to the living room. Doyoung is halfway up from his seat when you shoot up as well, holding out a hand to stop him from going to get the door. He, in turn, gives your umbrella a nervous and unconvinced look as you pick it up and head for the front door.  

It’s not even polite knocking; it’s the sound of someone’s fist assaulting the (very nice) wood of the front door — fast, heavy, and alarming. The closer you get to it, the clearer the voices behind it become.  

“Open up!” The words are slightly muffled, but there’s no mistaking the frantic tone. “Open up, please! Is anyone home? Hello? Someone, please — anyone, please let us in!”

Your hand is on the doorknob before you can think, but something stops you just before you turn it. Keeping Kim Doyoung safe is the highest priority right now, and opening his home up to strangers isn’t exactly at the top of the “what keeps people out of trouble” list. Even if the people behind this door are desperate, you wonder if, with everything that might be going on outside, you should be taking risks like this.  

Your fears are only solidified when the pounding on the door gets louder and more aggressive, punctuating troubling words. “Help us! Please, open the door — they’re coming after us, please!”  

You let go of the doorknob, watching it rattle for a second with the intensity of the knocking, before you move your hand to the deadbolt, fumbling with the little weight on the anchor. You’ve just about slipped it into place when Doyoung’s voice stops you.

“What the hell are you doing?” He demands; there’s no trace of quiet in his words now, and it’s so unlike how he’s been talking to you that it actually causes you to freeze. “Let them in!”

You throw him a look that you sincerely hope suggests how indignant you feel that he’s so willing to let random people in his house when you’d sat waiting for hours outside. “We can’t let people in here that you don’t know. That’s a cardinal rule in keeping you out of harm’s way.”

“They said they need help,” he presses. “Let them in.”

“Kim Doyoung-ssi,” you grit your teeth. “I don’t think you understand —“

“They said something’s after them. They could die out there. Are you going to have that kind of blood on both of our hands?”

The yells on the other side of the door are becoming somewhat incoherent; there’s probably at least two people out there, considering the rate at which the knocks are coming. Your fingers tighten on the deadbolt as you stare at Doyoung, whose expression is unwavering.

“Let them in, officer.”  

A sharp hit to the door breaks you out of your momentary trance, and you groan in frustration as you tug the deadbolt back and yank the door open.

Three bodies collapse onto the floor; you have to step out of the way as the tangle of limbs and heads scrambles into the living room. One guy is pretty much out cold, with another tugging him by the shoulders deeper into the house. The other gets to his feet, trying to get his bearings before fixing his eyes on you.

“Close the door, close the fucking door —“ He yells, panicked. “Hurry, close it!”

You don’t even get a good look at what’s beyond the foyer before your instincts just tell you to slam the door shut; you finally put the deadbolt in place. Another body slams into the wood, but this time, no words follow.

Only vicious snarls, chillingly familiar, come from the other side of the door. 

Hello can I ask for a Doyoung smut, I haven't been seeing new fics of doyoung these days 🥹 tysm

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ᵂᵒʳᵈ ᶜᵒᵘⁿᵗ: ².¹ᵏ

ᴳᵉⁿʳᵉ: ˢᵐᵘᵗ

ᵂᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍˢ: ᵀʰⁱᶜᵏ ᵈⁱᶜᵏ ᴰᵒʸᵒᵘⁿᵍ, ᴴᵃʳᵈ ᵈᵒᵐ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ, ᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵒᶜᵏ ᵃᵇᵘˢᵉ, ᶜᵒᶜᵏ ʷᵃʳᵐⁱⁿᵍ, ᵗᵉᵃˢⁱⁿᵍ, ˢᵘᵍᵍᵉˢᵗⁱᵛᵉ, ˢʷᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ

ˢʸⁿᵒᵖˢⁱˢ: ᴺᵒ ᵐᵃᵗᵗᵉʳ ʰᵒʷ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᴰᵒʸᵒᵘⁿᵍ’ˢ ⁶ᵗʰ ˢᵉⁿˢᵉ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ'ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ… ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ'ᵛᵉ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵖʳᵉᵈⁱᶜᵗᵉᵈ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʷᵃˢ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ᵃʳʳⁱᵛᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵉⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ.

ᴬ/ᴺ: ᴴⁱ ᵃⁿᵒⁿ! ᴬˢˢᵘᵐⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ ᵃⁿᵒⁿ ᵃˢ ᵐʸ ʳᵉqᵘᵉˢᵗᵉᵈ ᴶᵉᵒⁿᵍʷᵒᵒ ᶠⁱᶜ, ᴵ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʸᵒᵘ... ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵒ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉˢᵉ ᵃˢᵏˢ, ⁱˡʸˢᵐ 😭🩷, ˢᵉⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵛⁱʳᵗᵘᵃˡ ʰᵘᵍˢ 🫶

“Hey… it's late, is everything alright?” You called through the phone after not hearing a response for a concerning amount of time, he had called you so you didn't know if it was much of a real call or more of a prank call.

“Hey, the boys are gonna go eat somewhere but I honestly wanna just lay in bed and sleep. The company's too far and I know you live nearby- mind if I spend the night?” you could hear his croaky voice from the other side and you honestly couldn't help but feel pity for him, you didn't see the problem in letting your boyfriend come over in order for him to just immediately lay in bed and knock himself out, it was just one night and you didn't seem to find a problem with it.

“Doyoung - you don't need to ask, just call me and say you're coming over. My house is your house.” You calmly responded, “Ok, ok, my bad, I'll be there in 10” he responded, half chuckling while you heard the familiar beep and then the line went dead.

Part of you was nervous about him coming over to spend the night, but what was one singular night gonna do? Nothing could happen in the span of those 12 hours that he'd be coming and sleeping over. He had practice the next morning, which meant that by breakfast hours at the company, he should already be there and ready for practice.

So you waited until you heard a knock on the door, you slowly walked to the fronts of your apartment and looked outside the peephole. It was the habit you couldn't get rid of as well as the one people always found themselves questioning you for, to which you always responded with.

“Better to be safe than sorry.”

Once confirming that it was indeed Doyoung, you slipped open the door and allowed him to enter the cozy setting, you greeted him and escorted him to your room.

“Since I live in an apartment- I unfortunately don't have any guest bedrooms, but you can rest in here and I'll be on the couch.”

Doyoung took the little energy he had in order to glance at you and turn his full body to face you, he looked a bit disappointed and a little annoyed.

“Why don't we just sleep together?” He responded. Now you were sure that your cheeks were flushed red judging by the burning sensation you had in them, you cleared your throat and made eye contact with him which was quickly broken by whatever reason you may have made in your head.

“I don't know about that-”

“Why? We're dating and from the looks of it, your bed is big enough to fit 2 people. I don't see a problem with it.”

You turned your head and thought for a moment, although you also didn't really have a problem with sleeping together, your conscience wouldn't really leave you alone if you dared to lay in the same bed as him, especially since in the recent Treasure comebacks he was really putting it off with the visuals.

“I probably won't keep my hands still if we do-”

He completely disregarded your comment, probably because he didn’t hear you or he just didn't pay attention, nevertheless it was one of the two. “It's only one singular night, I think we should be fine-”

Hesitant, you nodded, having already brushed your teeth, you asked him if he had brushed his, to which he simply nodded and fell onto the bed… to which you followed right after.

It had surprisingly worked out at first… both of you were sound asleep in a matter of minutes, and to be honest, you slept like a baby for those couple of hours that your eyes were shut, which felt weird since you hadn't slept like that in ages… maybe it was because Doyoung was next to you.

But you had woken up to the sound of Doyoung groaning, and of course it caught you off guard. Your eyes immediately widened and you saw yourself laying on top of your boyfriend, you figured you had just somehow shifted into that position during your sleep since you definitely did not remember falling asleep like that. Therefore you didn't think much of it, that was until you felt Doyoung's hand grab onto your shoulder and attempt to push you off lightly.

“Y/n… can you stop doing that please…?”

Confused, you looked at your boyfriend as if he was out of his mind, “I'm not doing anything…?” You lightly said, trying not to disturb his still tired side that had yet to woke up completely, and you could only imagine how much more confused he became when his groaning shifted to moaning.

It took you a while to realize that your knee was in a place where it shouldn't have been…

“Crap! I'm sorry!” you said, feeling Doyoung's arms wrap around you as you could feel his slow but repetitive breaths lightly caress your skin.

“Y/n… I'm tired. Let's forget this and go back to bed.” You could hear his shaky yet desperate voice, that same voice that was probably about to fall asleep any moment now. It took you a while to realize that the reason you had probably felt so uncomfortable around him lately was because you were turned on by him in a way, which had you wondering how you hadn't noticed earlier.”

You heard a groan come from his mouth, which left a smirk tracing on your mouth, satisfaction running through his body as his back slowly arched. Your hand had traveled over to his tighted pants and gently squeezed him, making him moan ever so slightly.

His breathing became more regular, becoming a mix of breathing and moaning “Y/n… you shouldn't do this here…”

“What are you so afraid of?” You muttered lightly, not daring to leave out the mocking pitch, knowing he wouldn't be able to do anything about it since it was technically you in full control.

“Y/n- I have practice tomorrow” he whined, but your grip only got tighter. Doyoung’s moan got cut off by your abrupt kiss when you leaned up and connected your lips together, giving him a passionate and wet kiss.

You lifted his shirt to reveal his small and skinny figure along with the small shape of his forming abs, chuckling a bit, you licked his chest in which he lightly groaned and looked at you.

“Doyoung- you really have no idea what you've been doing to me lately.” You muttered, unzipping his zipper and massaging his crotch, using the little fabric that was his only advantage against him… no matter how much he wanted to deny it, he was turned on, and you were the cause of that.

There was no need for permission, your hand was already sliding up and down his bare cock, as his dick grew in your grip.

“You're all out with the teasing today aren't you?” he commented, chuckling at the act along with you. Ignoring him, you brought your free hand onto his stomach and gave him small belly rubs, you felt his hand travel to your back and down to your waist, as he held you in place to prevent you from falling. His eyes were shut as he was beginning to relax at your every move, still letting out small groans at the feeling of your hand sliding on his cock.

And you surely weren't expecting him to have such an impressive girth, you felt he was thick but you didn't expect him to be that thick.

“Y/n… please let me feel you-” he moaned, words barely forming and escaping his mouth. Hearing it for sure drove you crazy, so you nodded and turned around which was the first time you actually managed to get a good look at his dick.

“Doyoung, I hope you know that with this dick you're just gonna make me want you more…”

“If you want me, then claim me.”

The response took you by surprise, sure your boyfriend was flirty with everyone but this was different, and you knew that he had caught onto you and decided to get revenge for all the teasing you yourself was guilty of.

“You think I won't?” You smirked which made his cock grow stiff, he liked it.

“You like it when I tell you things like that?” You muttered softly, he shaked his head, a bit ashamed before ultimately nodding, which only earning a small giggle from you.

The both of you pulled into a wet kiss, tongues intertwining and transferring all your love to each other with that one singular kiss, morning practice was the last thing on his mind now, almost completely forgetting about it. Once the kiss was separated you took the moment to look at your boyfriend, who was making eye contact with you intimately.

“Get on me…”

“Doyoung- you feel good…”

Taking a moment to process his words before smiling, bringing yourself over to him as he slowly removed the shorts which surrounded and highlighted your waist, following his instructions and lining yourself up with him.

Doyoung fluttered a bit and you felt him twitch inside of you, you gave Doyoung a moment and started grinding yourself on him, allowing him to feel all the pleasure as you both shared knowing sounds and moans.

“Y/n… you-”

Unable to finish his sentence, you cut him off by leaning down and kissing his chest, trying your best to limit your moans and allow him to do all the talking, you allowed yourself to suck his nipple and play with his other as you picked up your speed, pressing his on parts onto him.

“You can't get any better at this can you…?” He commented, completely out of breath and with sloppy speech, hearing him being so distraught really did something with your subconscious, enough to make you pick up your speed once more earning a growl from him.

“Fuck Doyoung… you really know how to mess with my feelings don't you?”

“I really don't mean to…”

Feeling his dick once again begin twitching, you brought yourself off of him, having a gut feeling that he was close and which was proven to be correct shortly after.

Small bits of precum leaked out of his dick, which was proving to your theory furthermore.

“Y/n… I'm close… please don't stop.”

“I'm not going to, I wanna show you satisfaction to the fullest.”

He didn't know what you meant, that was until you flicked his crotch allowing him to feel a small moment of both pain and pleasure at the same time, all feelings overtook him as his eyes rolled back and mouth watered at the feeling of his cock being distributed from it's original state and ending up with a small mark.

And that only got worse, as it started with small flicks to full on slaps, you slapped his dick harshly yet still with caution as you knew you there was a higher possibility that you'd hurt him than actually please him.

“Fuck…!” He whined, his whimpers got loud as he attempted to limit his volume, for a moment forgetting you lived in an apartment building with neighbors on all sides of your room. “Y/n! Stop! Please!” he once again whined, which just made you slap him slightly harder.

Tears began forming in his eyes as he felt the feeling of his dick slapping against his stomach and being brought back up to your hand for you to just repeat the cycle, his tears streamed down his cheeks and his mind became overwhelmed with thoughts.

How was the feeling of both pain and pleasure all at once was darn addicting?

His mouth watered, as he picked up the nearest pillow and brought it to his face, all his cum leaked out of him the moment your hand allowed his crotch to breathe.

“Was I too harsh on you?” Pity finding your voice as you saw the mess your boyfriend had done.

You both had been virgins up until that point, and the feeling of something like sex was truly just so overwhelming, the feeling of each other's touch in such an intimate way just really fluttered both of your hearts.

“No… it felt good…”

“Can try cock warming in you…?”

“Of course…” you lightly responded, reading his excited expression, he smiled lightly and brought a himself inside of you once more.

It was truly when you realized that one singular night was truly all it took for something so unimaginable to happen to two individuals.

Just one singular night.

Thanks to the anon who rquested the doyoung smut 🥵🥵🥵 and thankyou for writing it 💖💕💗💜💖🖤❤️ now I can never get enough of doyoung Arggghh!!! can you make another one for doyoung but this time he's the dom 😩

𝑨 𝑵𝒆𝒘 𝑺𝒊𝒅𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝑴𝒆

ᴾᵃⁱʳⁱⁿᵍˢ: ᴰᵒʸᵒᵘⁿᵍ ˣ ᶠᵉᵐ! ᴿᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ

ᵂᵒʳᵈ ᶜᵒᵘⁿᵗ: ¹.⁵ᵏ

ᴳᵉⁿʳᵉ: ˢᵐᵘᵗ

ᵂᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍˢ: ˢʷᵉᵃʳ ʷᵒʳᵈˢ, ˢᵘᵍᵍᵉˢᵗⁱᵛᵉ, ᵘⁿᵉˣᵖᵉᶜᵗᵉᵈ ˢᵉˣ, ᵘⁿᵖʳᵒᵗᵉᶜᵗᵉᵈ ˢᵉˣ.

ˢʸⁿᵒᵖˢⁱˢ: ᵂʰᵉⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ ᴰᵒʸᵒᵘⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢʰᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃ ⁿᵉʷ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱᵐ, ʸᵒᵘ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵉˣᵖᵉᶜᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ ˢᵒ ˡⁱᵗᵉʳᵃˡˡʸ, ᵗʰⁱᶜᵏ ᶜᵒᶜᵏ ᵈᵒʸᵒᵘⁿᵍ, ᵉⁿᵈˢ ˢᵒᵐᵉʷʰᵃᵗ ᵒⁿ ᵃ ᶜˡⁱᶠᶠ ʰᵃⁿᵍᵉʳ..?

ᴬ/ᴺ: ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ᵃⁿᵒⁿ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰⁱˢ, ᴵ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉˢᵉʳᵛᵉ ᵗʰⁱˢ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵃ ᶠᵉʷ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵘᵖˡᵒᵃᵈˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒʷ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵃ ᶠᵉʷ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵘᵖˡᵒᵃᵈˢ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵖᵃˢˢᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳᵉ ⁱᵗ ⁱˢ, ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵒʳ ʷᵃⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ᵐᵉ 🙏

You were at dinner with your boyfriend Doyoung, it was a special occasion since it was your 4th anniversary as a couple and you were glad that you both had made it so far since the beginning.

“Cheers!” You both said at the same time as you took a sip of the wine that intertwined in your fingers. Neither of you were big drinkers, but tonight was an exception and you figured one glass wouldn't hurt.

“Four years huh?” you muttered, leaning against the table with the wine in your grip, your long black dress brushing against the floor as he responded.

“Crazy how fast time flies. It feels like just yesterday since I was looking at you from afar and only ever had fantasies of dating you.” He chuckled a bit, recalling the old times, rolling your eyes, you slightly hit his leg with your heel as he let out a dramatic cry.

“That did not hurt!”

“It did a little!”

“I barely hit you!?”

At that point he was just teasing you. Every anniversary he took you out to a fancy dinner date, making you go in search of a brand new dress every year upon the mention of it. You loved seeing Doyoung wear a suit, looking tidy and professional, it was one of your favorite sights and made you think of Doyoung as something more than just your boyfriend.

And sometimes, it felt that way too…

So when you left the restaurant and walked over to the familiar car in the parking lot, you only thought of Doyoung as something more like your husband, although you both were still young it felt about right to refer to him with that title rather than boyfriend.

“I'm full-” Doyoung muttered, letting out a sigh after buckling his seatbelt and leaning back on his chair.

“Me too, I think we ate too much…” you chuckled, too tired to reach out to find your own seatbelt. Silence filled the car until he ultimately came near the steering wheel and turned on the air conditioner, you picked at your belt until you heard the familiar click.

“Do you wanna stop by a lookout before I drop you off? I think it'd be nice to catch up a bit before heading home.” He asked you, looking at you with the most heartwarming smile despite the darkness of the barely illuminating moon. “I think that'd be nice, to get to know some new sides of you that you possibly haven't shown me yet.” you smiled back, before glancing back at the window and leaning against the shoulder rest.

“I don't think there's anything you haven't seen of me.” Doyoung replied, taking his view away from you and looking upfront to the road.

“There must be something, I wanna get to know a new Doyoung tonight, I think you could show me one.”

He stayed silent, unsure of what to respond with, he didn't know whether your sentence had some sort of suggestiveness or whether it was a fully innocent comment, nevertheless, he only had one thing in mind, one singular side of himself that he couldn't recall ever showing you.

And well… maybe tonight would be the day he'd meet a new side to himself as well.

—————

You arrived at the empty sight and kept yourself awake, slowly drooping your head over to the side before picking it up again.

“Hey, you said you wanted to see a new side of me, don't fall asleep now.” Doyoung teased, you heard the driver side door open, it was when you finally lifted your head and turned to face Doyoung’s side of the car, noticing him open the back seat door before sitting down.

“What are you doing?” You questioned.

“Come, I think it'd be better to talk like this, we'd be more comfortable along with being more available to physical touch.”

He was right, you didn't wanna fall asleep on the day that was supposed to be special for the both of you, so you opened the passenger side door and brought yourself to the back, sitting down next to your boyfriend who rushed you into a hug.

“What was that for..?” You giggle lightly, not trying to make so much noise in the quiet setting, the low music playing in the background really helped set the tone, quiet, and relaxed music was perfect for something like this, not to mention the beautiful scenery.

“Just wanted to hug you.” He responded.

You nodded and hugged him back, feeling his arm tug on your dress strap lightly, enough to make it slide off your shoulder and onto your arm.

“I'm sorry for keeping you for so long, you probably wanna get home and take off this dress. I bet it's uncomfortable.”

“I can always make time for you.” You sighed, responding to his comment. You truthfully enjoyed every moment you got to spend with Doyoung, so despite the tight dress somewhat cutting your oxygen levels, you wanted to make sure that he knew you didn't mind spending more time with him and to not feel guilty.

And you weren't sure if he got the message… or got it the wrong way.

Both of your dress straps slipped off of your shoulders, replaced by the feeling of two hands rubbing against your back and pulling you closer.

Before you knew it you were sitting on his lap, the familiar lips that normally made contact with your own now sucking onto your right collarbone. Doyoung transferred messages and signals through those few seconds that his lips came in contact with your body, however you weren't sure if you read his messages correctly or if you were just fantasizing.

Because the only sentence you received were those seven words, followed by the next seven words, and your suspicions were only confirmed when he muttered-

“I want more than what we have.”

Groans escaped from your mouth as he passionately kissed you, more aggressive than you were used to, your eyes were shut as you felt your dress be lifted and expose your undergarments, he rubbed you, massaged and made sure to make you feel good.

“And you're gonna give it to me…”

“Doyoung - calm down please, I didn't mean this when I said I wanted to see another side of you..! Isn't this too fast?”

“I've waited four years Y/n…”

He silenced you with another kiss, biting your bottom lip and beginning to ask for your permission to enter. You granted it but he quickly overpowered you with his tongue, making you let out a cycle of moans.

“So wet for me already, keep doing that and I'll make you feel better.”

“Doyoung… let's not do this please-”

“Come on Y/n- you know you want this just as much as I do…”

His hand traveled under your undergarment, beginning to finger you, opening you up more and making room for himself.

“Doyoung - if we're gonna do this, at least expose yourself to me too… this is unfair and embarrassing..”

“Patience, love.. patience…”

It was a funny statement, how could you be patient in a situation like this? How could you be calm in this situation when every little move he pulled on you just made you wetter than you already were, and it was quite humiliating.

Your back touched the bottom of the cushion, as he slowly topped you. His features came into light as the moon reflected its light onto his face… that pure stare that you used to look at and think as innocent, you couldn't believe someone like Doyoung had been fantasizing about something like this for as long as four years.

His fingers rubbed against you as your zipper slowly came undone, back becoming exposed and sleeves rolling off your arms.

It was truly relieving to have the dress off, you had been so focused on looking good for the date that you forgot about the basic rules, you let out a breath of relief, feeling better upon the feeling of the fabric lifting up from your skin and sliding off your body.

“You don't need to wear these things to look pretty… you already are gorgeous to me, so please don't wear anything that makes something so simple like breathing difficult. You could show up in your pajamas and I'd still be kneeling down and stuttering over my sentences by your beauty.”

He brought his hand down to his pants, taking his belt off of his waist and pulling down his zipper, exposing his hardened dick that did nothing but twitch upon the feeling of fresh air brushing against it.

“You arouse me so much, you have no idea what you do to me…”

He pulled his boxer off of his dick, making it slam against his torso, and although it was dark, you could tell he was thick, his girth was impressive and it made your heart flutter. Making you more excited for the upcoming activities.

“You're excited all of a sudden, are you sure you can handle it?”

“Don't tease me, I can only try..”

He smirked, his gaze only shifting down as he lined himself up with you, putting his tip against your wet entrance and pushing it in and out of you while still staying at your surface.

“I like that answer.”

[ NCT 127 & You Visit Them @ Practice ] -

Warnings: None

Masterlist

➳ Taeil -

Taeil won’t put too much thought into his actions - he’s a little surprised to see you, but relieved as well because he could really use some encouragement right about now. He will steal a kiss, short and sweet, whether people are looking or not. There might be a scarlet tint to the tops of his ears as he pulls away, but he’s known his friends long enough to have earnt the right to respectfully ignore them. 

➳ Johnny -

Johnny picks you up into his arms and has you cling to him, he might cuddle you, he might tickle you, it depends on the day. He will absolutely confide in you about how he’s feeling - if practice is boring or if someone in particular is grating on him a little that day. He won’t move from your side for as long as the brief break is, always touching you even if you’re chatting to someone else.

➳ Taeyong -

Taeyong instantly engulfs you in a tight hug. Part of him wants to be embarrassed because he isn’t much into PDA, but he’s too tired and he’s pretty pleased to have someone other than the group to talk to for five minutes. (It’s hard being a parent to so many, he needs a break and someone to look after him.)

➳ Yuta -

Yuta will draw you into a kiss and not just a quick, barely-there peck. Without caring who might be watching, he wraps you up and is reluctant to let go even when he hears the low whistles of his group mates. In fact, their noises probably only act as encouragement for him to kiss you again and he’ll make it sloppy on purpose, just to hear them groan. 

➳ Doyoung -

Doyoung plays down how pleased he is to see you as if his heart is not hammering in his chest when you first arrive. He smiles all big and wide and by doing so, immediately invites the teasing of his group mates. As much as their comments make him flush, the heat of his cheeks isn't enough to deter him from pulling you into his chest when he thinks no one is watching. 

➳ Jaehyun -

Jaehyun is ever the polite and courteous boyfriend and he’ll greet you with a gentle kiss on the cheek, nothing too scandalous or noticeable to alert the attention of the other group members. (When it is time for you to go, he will momentarily follow you out the door to place a proper kiss on your mouth away from prying eyes.)

➳ Jungwoo -

Jungwoo isn’t really up to kissing you in front of everyone yet, but he will sling an arm around your shoulder and hang onto you. He’ll be affectionate in every other way that he knows how - playing with your fingers and resting his head on your shoulder. If you run your fingers through his messy hair he will melt. 

➳ Mark -

Mark is over the moon when you turn up to the practice room as it is the little gestures like this that mean the most to him. He isn’t going to be all over you, but he’ll definitely feel happier - practice was beating him, but an unexpected visit from you is more than enough to put a permanent smile on his face. 

➳ Haechan -

It isn’t often that Haechan slows down or gives any indicator that he’s feeling tired. He always seems to have enough energy to put 110% into practice and not take himself too seriously. When you visit and they are given a ten-minute break, Haechan will immediately lay his head in your lap and finally show just how exhausted he truly is. (He will probably whine until you thread your fingers through his hair.)