Lee Taeyong Smut - Tumblr Posts

Yandere Ty please

okay, i'll try to get it out soon, thank you sm for letting me know which one! i really appreciate it!!

Watching Over You

Paring: Yandere!Gaurdian Angel!Lee Taeyong x Human!Female Reader

Preview: Turning your head to question his silence, his expression could only be described as fucking appalled. “What’s the matter?” His expression was even more flabbergasted if that could be possible. 

“What’s the matter? Darling, only a fucking fool would break up with you.” You felt hot despite the cold air, even your ears were warm. The heat didn’t stop even when his freezing hands were now cupping your cheeks. He smashed his lips into yours, ignoring the pain shooting through his nose when it pressed into your cheek a bit too roughly.

Word Count: 13.3k 

Genre: Yandere, darker theme, Non-Idol AU, kinda paranormal AU, angst, fluff, smut

Warnings: Yandere/obsessive behavior, manipulation, taeyong using her trauma against her, sexual non-con watching (extremely easy to miss!!), violence, slight religious themes, summoning the devil, overall abusive and toxic relationship, she has a cat named ferguson 

Smut Warnings: body worship (f receiving), oral sex (f receiving), boob worship, praise, pet names (baby, etc), rimming (f receiving), slight ass eating (f receiving), unprotected sex (let's not), one night stand, kitchen sex, living room sex, he slaps her once, riding, slight humiliation, finger sucking, he calls her his bitch, slut, messy, etc. fingering her ass 

a/n- this is my first yandere/dark fic so I hope you guys like it! and this is purely fiction, I don't see taeyong as someone who would truly act like this. AND BIG THANK YOU TO MY TUMBLR BESTIE @neowinestainedress FOR HELPING ME COME UP WITH THE ENDING!!!!!!!! I'm also so sorry abt this taking forever, I got sick and then schoolwork piled up and it was all just a mess. I hope this was worth the wait and if it isn't, I'm so sorry. again, thank you rebs for supporting me thru this lol.

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Moving on was harder than you thought it would be. When you were younger and as single as possible, you always thought that when a serious relationship ended, it wouldn’t be too hard, for you at least. Younger you was very wrong, because here you were, a whopping seven months after your relationship had ending, still sulking.

“Get your ass out of your apartment right now.” The screaming voice caused you to pull your phone away from your ear as you winced. “Come on Chae, it’s comfortable here. Nice and cold, with Ferguson.” When hearing his name, the chubby cat waddled over to your sitting figure on the floor and flopped down.  “See, Fergie-Boy wouldn’t ever leave me, he came over to me when he heard him name.” You pulled away from the phone to coo at the cat. “You’re my baby aren’t you, my little boy, my son.”

The baby talk was interrupted when you heard Chaeyoung’s cackling. “Okay, you really need to get out of the house that isn’t because of uni or work.”  You heard the sign that Chaeyoung let out through the phone, and it made you wonder if she was right. Should you get out, in that way? Meet someone? Move on?

You wouldn’t have realized that you said that last part out loud if Chaeyoung didn’t yell out, “Yes Y/n, move on, get over him. You deserve better, don’t give him any more of your tears, he isn’t worthy.” You knew she was right, but of course, you were still hesitant. “Okay Chae, let’s go out.” Finally giving in, you gave Ferguson another pat and then got up from your spot.

“That’s great Y/n! Now let me in.” You had already hung up the phone, Chaeyoung’s voice wasn’t coming from the phone this time, but behind the door. “I know you can hear me, open up!” Deciding that it wasn’t worth it to fight her on this, you huffed and silently walked to the door to let in Chae, with Ferguson right on your heels.

Opening the door, you saw the newly blonde smile wide at you and throw her hands in the air. “We’re gonna go out! It’s been so long!” Slightly rolling your eyes in a loving way, you allowed her to drag you to your bedroom to start the process of getting ready. “Okay, the goal is to get your sexy ass laid, so that’s what’s going to happen!”  That wasn’t your goal, but you noticed that Chae was already having fun and you weren’t going to be the one to ruin it.  

“Okay babe, I already have the dress and shoes that you’re going to wear tonight.” You just noticed the tote bag that was swung around Chae’s shoulder and with the grin on her face, you couldn’t tell her no.

Letting Chaeyoung push you into your own room, you watched her look through your makeup and jewelry while she told you to put on the dress. You did what you were told and with minimal tugging at the fabric, you let the short dress hug your curves. Checking yourself out in the mirror, you admittedly looked good, well your hair needed to be brushed and your eye bags covered, but other than that, it wasn’t obvious that you hadn’t left your house for fun in months.

“Alright, sit-down hot stuff, let me fix you up.” Talking about random things and listening to music, you watched the time pass on your digital alarm clock as you felt Chae tickle your face with various brushes, adding on pigment to different parts of your skin. Cheeks, eyelids, and finally lips, you and Chae were finished, and it was now late enough to head out. You slipped on your heels and headed to your front door.

“Wait-wait-wait!” Chae jogged to you after you passed your bedroom door. Spinning on your heels, trying not to fall, you were just ready to go and get the night over with. “I brought you some of my crystals, they’ll help you manifest love.” She wiggled her eyebrows along with her hips and took out a small drawstring bag from her tote bag.

“Alright, we got some green aventurine, malachite, sunstone, carnelian, emerald, clear quartz, smoky quartz, and of course, rose quartz. So, you’re gonna keep these on you for the night and hopefully some lucky guy will appear.” She tied the bag shut and pushed it your way.

“You and your witchy stuff, I swear. Where am I even supposed to put those?” Your freshly shaped eyebrow rose, patting along your pocketless dress.

“Put it between your tits, that’s where I keep mine.” Chaeyoung pulled at the hem of her dress, flashing her rock hilled cleavage at you. Both of you laughed, but Chae wasn’t laughing at the rocks, she was serious about those. Chae stepped closer to you, inspecting your chest.

“Alright, pull them apart sister, gotta get you some love.” Instead of letting her situate her crystals, you just took them and put them between your breasts yourself.

Sharing a laugh with Chaeyoung as the two of you walked to elevator, you were thankful that she was there to take your mind off of your ex. Chae was always able to keep the conversation moving, never running out of topics to talk about. She had just switched the subject to one of her witchy things, this was something that you knew nothing about so while she was ranting on how she figured out to summon the devil, you ordered an Uber for the two of you. You didn’t want to drive downtown, and Chae was probably going to drink so she shouldn’t drive at all.

Chaeyoung was looking at you when you looked up from your phone. “Can you repeat that last part? I was ordering our Uber.” She understood and repeated on how to summon the devil and why you would ever need to.

“Normally people only speak to him when someone who is holy is bothering them, like an angel or such. Other reasons include trading or selling your soul, getting rid of people, and some people just want to have sex with a demon, I don’t know how I feel about that one though.” You didn’t care much about what she was saying but you did care about how happy she was when she was interested in something, in this case, she was interested in knowing how to summon Satan himself.

Giggling at her rant, you just listened to her talk until the Uber arrived and then you listened to her talk some more in the car and until you pulled up to the club.

“Alright ladies, your total is $7.12.” You paid the man and gathered your purse and jacket. “Have fun, be careful, and watch who you summon!” He called out as you and Chae left the car, you threw your head back and laughed, realizing that he too had been listening to Chaeyoung’s demon summoning rant. Her shy side shone through for a quick second when she blushed and ducked her head down, hiding the color on her warm cheeks.

You smiled at her, watching the color leave her cheeks when the embarrassment wore off. “Well at he knows how to get some extra help if its ever needed.” You teased her, poking her arm, reminding her that he had heard the entire conversation. “Fuck off.” She giggled and pushed you a bit. “Well, at least he was nice.”

He had dropped you off in front of the restaurant next to the club so you a minute walk to get to the entrance, it was still early enough where the line only consisted of a couple people. The back of the line was where the two of you stood for a bit, until someone walked out of the club, and another could walk in. Chae picked up where she left off on her summoning talk, gaining some stares from other people in the line, as well as people just passing by. Once Chaeyoung found something that she was passionate about, she made sure that everyone knew. And if she caught someone side eyeing her for a bit too long, she would just respond with, “You’re gonna need it when I curse your ass.”

While Chaeyoung was telling someone off, the bouncer motioned for you to step forward and show your IDs. “C’mon Chae, time to go in.” Immediately dropping the argument, she was about to get in, she whipped out her ID, showed the bouncer, and walked into the club, with you reluctantly trailing behind her, despair evident on your face.

Taking your hand and dragging you to the bar, Chaeyoung was scoping out the people in the club, the ones dancing, drinking, and the wallflowers. She was making mental notes on who she was going to take home tonight. The watching didn’t stop when you got your drinks, she just sipped on her lemon drop martini while eye fucking one guy in particular. He was returning her stares and soon enough he was sauntering over to the bar where the two of you were.

They did what hot people do and started a conversation, one that showed they were interested in each other but still vague enough to not give anything away. It’s been a while since you had one of those conversations. Sitting on the couch and eating popcorn with Ferguson wasn’t getting you anywhere in life and while you understood where Chaeyoung was coming from, there was no where you’d rather be than at home, sitting on the couch and eating popcorn with Ferguson.

“And for you?” There was a slight pause before the voice started again. “Miss?” Once you’re out of focused mind, understood that it was you, the voice was directed at, you whipped your head around.

While you had been taking in your surroundings and watching Chaeyoung interact with the man, the bartender had been trying to get your attention. “Ah yes, and I suppose I should order something. I’ll just have a mojito, with lime, please and thank you.” You smiled at him, noticing just how attractive he was, thick black hair, deep eyes, a sharp jaw, and a thick bottom lip. Maybe just sitting at the bar all night while Chaeyoung mingled wouldn’t be too bad.

When your drink was placed in front of you, Chaeyoung turned your seat around. “I’m gonna go dance with him, but feel free to interrupt me at any point if you need anything.” She said it in such a serious tone and pointed in the area that you assumed they were going to be. Looking back at the bartender who now had his broad back towards you, you nodded at Chae and told her to have fun.

As soon as she walked away, you could tell tonight was going to be a long night. “Is there anything wrong with the drink?” The bartender returned to what you wanted to be his designated spot, right in front of you. You shook your head, “No, it’s quite good, and I’m not much of a drinker.” You smiled at him, an odd sense of familiarity washing over you. Positive that you had never met this man before, you still couldn’t help but be confused by the feeling he brought you.

“Ah, I was worried you didn’t like it since I haven’t seen you drink much.” He’s been watching you, that’s a good sign. “No, no, it’s really good, I’ve just been people watching.” He smiled at you and that caused you to smile back.

The conversation you two had could easily fall into the category in which you put Chaeyoung’s conversation in, the kind hot people have. You made sure he knew you were interested, but you gave him no major details about your work or personal life. The two of you didn’t even exchange names but you were confident in receiving the answer you wanted with you next question.

“Would you, maybe, want to get out of here.” You didn’t realize you were leaning over the bar until he did the same, and your noses brushed. “I would absolutely love to, but I’m unfortunately working. How about we exchange numbers and I give you a call when my shift is over? It shouldn’t be too long.” You didn’t want to pull away from his face, loving the feel of his breath mixing with yours, you looked at him and exchanged smiles. But you wanted to hurry up and get out of the club, not without getting his number though. Reaching into your purse, you grabbed your phone, eager to get any piece of him, even if it was just a handful of digits.

Watching his diligent fingers type in his phone number into the new contact he made himself, you were already excited to receive the call from him. And, quite frankly, you’d settle for a text from him that just said, “r u up”, although you could assume he wasn’t that type of guy. Surely, he’d request a booty call in your voicemail inbox. You noticed him pulling his phone out from somewhere under the bar and placing it in front of you, unlocked.

Noticing that you were putting in your number very carefully and reading over the number several times before giving him his phone back, you scolded yourself for being so desperate. You then heard Chaeyoung’s voice, somewhere far in your head, “you deserve to be thirsty girl, go get his dick. This is what we’ve been manifesting, don’t let it go to waste!” Smiling at the faint illusion, you looked back at the bartender, waiting for him to say something next.

“I hope you assumed that I wasn’t going to charge you for the drink, so is there anything else you want?” His eyes told you that no matter what, he wasn’t going to let you pay, and you felt the butterflies in your stomach flutter around. “The only thing I want right now, is you.” Even with the glaring LEDs in the club, you could tell you made him blush. He bit his lip and looked down, all while slightly shaking his head. You mentally patted yourself on the back, proud of his flustered reaction. All of a sudden, you were proud of yourself for paying attention to all of Chaeyoung’s flirting advice and sitting through all of the romance movies with her.

“I’ll be right back; I’m going to go tell my boss that I’m feeling sick. You find your friend and tell her that you’ll be leaving so she doesn’t worry. I’ll meet you at the door.” Smiling at the fact that you wouldn’t even have to wait for him to get off shift, you nodded at him and watched him back away and tell the other bartender that he wasn’t feeling well. You turned around and searched for Chae, who stayed true to her word and was where she said she would be.

“Hey Chae, I’m going to head out, I’ve had enough for the night.” You yelled over the loud music, trying to let your friend know that you weren’t just disappearing. “Okay, let me get my purse and then we can go!” Once you heard the words that came out of Chaeyoung’s mouth you started shaking your head. “No, I’ll be okay, I’m going with the hot bartender, you keep having fun!” You nodded your head back towards the bar and then towards the man right next to Chae, who was patiently letting you guys finish your conversation. Although he looked sick, Chaeyoung seemed to be into him. Her face made everything even better, the surprise was evident but so was impressed look. Without giving a verbal answer you just smiled at her and nodded, happy to see her having a good time and happy that you wouldn’t spend the night alone.  

You looked up from Chae and swallowed, if the music wasn’t blasting, surely, you’d be able to hear it. Your throat contracting out of nervousness, the club had attracted a crowd since you arrived, and it caused the path to the door to disappear. Yelling your final goodbyes at Chae and glaring at the man she was dancing with in warning, you mapped out your escape plan.

As soon as the couple closest to you slid to the side a bit, you squeezed through. You felt the sweat of the other dancing bodies land on your skin, you shivered in disgust, wishing you were just at the door, with him. “Wanna dance, baby?”

Looking over to your left you saw a man, one who was not attractive to say the least, and the way he was sitting wasn’t tasteful at all, a way that some men could pull off but not all, manspreading. Your face couldn’t hide your distaste and the man didn’t seem too fond of that. “I’m okay, thank you though.” Continuing your journey to the door, you felt his hand latch onto your arm, refusing to let you go.

“But I want to dance, so you’re going to let me.” His grip tightened and you winced. “Ow, let go, you’re hurting me.” He just sneered and pulled you to his chest, starting to thrust against your ass.

The man’s breath was right against your neck, until it wasn’t. “The fuck is wrong with you, man? Touching my girlfriend even after she told you to stop.” You weren’t someone’s girlfriend, that was the reason why Chaeyoung made you come out tonight in the first place.

With the quick decision to trust the mystery man over the man who touched you, you moved over to where you heard the voice, shielding yourself from the other man.  

The mystery man didn’t stay a mystery for long, you noticed that he was the bartender. You suddenly felt safer than you were just being behind him, now knowing who he was. He didn’t seem interested in starting a physical fight like the other man was. He just threw a couple names at him and started walking out of the club. You felt his hand hover above the small of you back, not wanting to touch you without your permission after what had just happened.

While you were afraid of pushing people out of the way, he wasn’t. With him helping you out of the club, he made sure not a single person touched you, you knew how hard it was the moment you did try so you were curious about how easy it was for him. He was behind you, so you saw people move before you were even close to them. One guy in particular’s eyes widened and nodded his head at the bartender.

Since he was able to get people to move immediately, exiting the club was much easier than from before. You could hear the other man’s yells over the booming music but the only thing you were focused on was getting outside, away from all the people, and away from all the body heat.

“We’re close, calm your breathing, it’s really heavy.” You hadn’t realized that you were all but panting, stressed and uncomfortable, feeling trapped, except the man behind you. You felt safe with him, he was oddly protective over you, but it was nice, something you had never experienced.

You gasped in the fresh air once the cool evening air ingulfed your warm body. Laughing at the absurdity of it all, you smiled over at the bartender who now was out with you, and you could see him clearly now. The entire situation wasn’t that absurd, but with how far outside your comfort zone you were right now, it was insane for you. The bartender just watched you laugh to yourself with a smile on his face. “Ah, if you don’t mind me asking, what’s so funny?”

Starting to walk in the direction of your apartment, you started to explain, without giving too much, still trying to achieve the hot people talk. “I just don’t do this too much, let alone go home with someone.” It was his turn to laugh now and that made you look at him, a bit funny too. “That’s pretty hard to believe, you have to be the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my life.”

Raising your eyebrows at him in surprise, you giggled at him mimicking your facial expression. “What’s surprising about my amazing taste in women?” You bumped him with your side, you voice now significantly quieter than it had been. “I’ve just, never been told that by anyone in my life. The only people who called me pretty, were my parents.” He tsked at your confession like it was the craziest thing he’s ever heard.

“Did you not have an ex-partner or anything?” Not sure what he was implying, you started off with nodding. “Yeah, I’ve had a boyfriend. We were together for a really long time, since high school actually. He broke up with me seven months ago, this the first time out of the house for something ‘fun’ to be honest.”

Turning your head to question his silence, his expression could only be described as fucking appalled. “What’s the matter?” His expression was even more flabbergasted if that could be possible. 

“What’s the matter? Darling, only a fucking fool would break up with you.” You felt hot despite the cold air, even your ears were warm. The heat didn’t stop even when his freezing hands were now cupping your cheeks. He smashed his lips into yours, ignoring the pain shooting through his nose when it pressed into your cheek a bit too roughly.

“He made it seem like it was my fault.” So overwhelmed by the unexpected emotion from the kiss, you sniffled. “It wasn’t.” Before you could ask how he knew, he cut you off. “I just know.” Looking at him through teary eyes, you whined without really saying anything. “He already took too much of your time, let’s stop thinking about him and I’ll do my best to help you forget him.”

“I still don’t even know your name.” Watching his fingers caress your knuckles, you realized that you were still calling him ‘the bartender’. “Taeyong. My name is Taeyong.” Pretty name for a pretty man. You gave him your name in return and loved the way to said it, he whispered it, almost like if your name was said too loud, it would break. That’s the same way he held you too, like you were a piece of fragile glass. But more importantly, he held you like you were his, and you were more than willing to be just that.

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Taeyong straddled you, his thighs trapping you underneath him, he stared down at your bare body. Bare for him, while he was clothed except for the unbuttoned shirt, showing you, his tattoos. “You don’t understand how long I’ve waited to have you.”

His confession caused your brows to furrow, confused by what he meant. Before you could even truly think to ask, you felt his nose drag between your breasts, breathing you in, and descending down your body. He mentioned worshipping each and every piece of you, and he fulfilled that promise. Taking his time with moving alone your body, he kissed, licked, and nipped every few seconds, never letting a single inch of skin go bare. You were positive that when you looked into the mirror in the morning, you would see several bruises and marks along your once bare skin.

“You smell and t-taste so fucking good.” He said it like it was too good to be true, like he had been longing for you. “Y-you are just so fucking good.” Taeyong looked up from where he was between your legs, finally at his destination. The thing he’s been obsessing over ever since he met you.

He didn’t run his tongue through your slit like you first expected, you felt something harder, the bridge of his nose. Taeyong loved the smell of you as it was, but the seedy scent of your arousal was something that made his mouth water, and the fact that it was caused by him, made everything better. He wanted to be the only person to ever get you like this and to ever experience you like this. You were his.

Opening his mouth and breathing your scent in, he groaned and jutted his hips against your bed sheets, trying to get some relief for the aching throb he was starting to feel surge through his cock. You saw him roll his hips into your bed and grew jealous of the friction that he was receiving and that you weren’t. Trying to take matters into your own hands, or hips, you tried bucking your pelvis up, closer to his mouth.

All he did was laugh and hold you down. “Be patient, I’ve been wanting to taste you ever since I met you.” You felt the tip of his nose at your hole, once again, he inhaled your smell, seemingly never satisfied with one breath. The foreign feeling was felt out of nowhere, you were trying to distract yourself from bucking your hips into his face again. He finally licked along your slit, teasing you from your cunt to your clit, until his tongue made its way back down to your pussy. He passed your hole and ventured even further down, to your unused rim.

Gasping and arching your back, not used to the feeling, Taeyong laughed. “I’m sorry, I just didn’t want to leave any part of you untouched.” You laughed with him, enjoying the feeling of being cared for in your chest, as well as the feeling in your lower stomach.

Taeyong’s mouth returned to the place you wanted it the most. “Tae-”, you moaned when he sucked your clit particularly rough. The way he played with you had you unable to sit still, your legs almost involuntarily kicked up at bit, now bent at the knee. With the way your legs were positioned now, and your feet were right by his head, exposing your entire cunt to him.

“You’re so fucking pretty.” With that, his head disappeared between your legs, face pressing hard into your pussy, almost like no matter what, he couldn’t get enough of you.

His tongue flicked through your slit, gathering wetness and playing with it. He played with you, even as you were begging him to just fucking you already, he still enjoyed the taste of you.

It wasn’t until you let out a harsh scream when his teeth grazed your clit, he finally came back up to properly fuck you. With one last kiss to your clit, he kissed his way back up your body. You were panting when you were at last, face to face.

“I haven’t even done anything yet and you’re already a mess.” Disbelief was the only thing that was shown on your face. “You haven’t done anything? That’s the most pleasure I’ve experience in more than half a year that wasn’t caused by myself!” As soon as the words left your mouth, embarrassment washed over you, worried that you had shared too much.

“Well, that’s just a shame, a woman like you should have someone bending over backwards to make you feel good. I’m still pissed off from the fact that your douchebag ex left you like that.” You grimaced at the memory of him, not wanting to talk about him, especially now.

“It doesn’t matter now though, because I’m here now.” The tip of his dick prodded at your hole, one, twice, and then Taeyong thrusted inside you. Taeyong groaned above you while you gasped for air, not used to the feeling of being full anymore, but Taeyong filled you perfectly, like he was made for you.

The feeling of his cock dragging against your walls was almost overwhelming. You could feel him in your throat, like you couldn’t breathe in air. You could only breathe him in, you felt like he was everywhere. Feeling caged in, you felt safe. Safe in his arms. You had only known him for less than a few hours, yet you felt as if he knew you, he understood you.

When you looked up at him, he was already watching you. Analyzing your expressions, making sure you were enjoying yourself. You worried however, that he was so focused on you, that he wasn’t having fun either.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pulled him closer, craving to feel his lips on yours again. You heard Taeyong whine as soon as his lips met yours, and you couldn’t help but make the same sound. “Tae-, I’m close.” Your words were broken up by a moan, now unable to think properly about anything that wasn’t him and the way he was making you feel.

Taeyong grabbed a hold of your right leg and threw it over his shoulder, spreading you open even more and allowing him more access to your pussy. You felt his hips meet yours with every thrust now. His thrusts were getting quicker and uneven, trying to chase his own high while bringing you to yours.

The moment he brought his thumb to your clit, you lost it. You felt your entire body tense up with sweet heat spreading throughout you. With your pussy tightening, Taeyong couldn’t hold back anymore either. He was about to pull out to cum, but as soon as you noticed the full feeling disappearing, you wrapped your legs around his hips to keep his hips pressed against yours. “Cum in me, please Taeyong.”

You could hear the squelch of your pussy now with how fast his hips were hitting yours. “Fuck, I’m gonna, I’m gonna cum.” With a stutter of his hips, you felt his release coat your walls.

Taeyong gently laid on top of you, not pulling out of you just yet. “Oh my god.” You panted out a laugh, in disbelief of how much pleasure you just felt since it had been so long. He smiled down at you and kissed your turned up lips.

He made sure you were cleaned up and satisfied before he held you until you both fell asleep. You were calm and happy for once. But as soon as you woke up, you were no longer calm.

It was several minutes before 6 AM when your eyes opened. At first your instinct was to freak out since you didn’t recognize where you were and the bed you were sleeping in, wasn’t empty. You became aware of the other body on the bed when he rolled over, farther from you. The memories from the night came crashing down on you all at once, affecting every single part of your body. Your heart, head, and the area between your legs. Your breathing sped up, but you knew you needed to leave, it was just a one-night stand, and by the look of him, you weren’t the only girl he’s been with. He was just too perfect.

The sight of your discarded clothes on the floor made you look beneath the blankets, because you weren’t naked. The ratty worn-out army green t-shirt was baggy on you and the boxers you had on were definitely not yours. The thought of him dressing you in his own clothes caused your heart to flutter, but still, that didn’t stop you from scooping up your club clothes in your arms and booking it to the front door. You figured that if you just kept on the old clothes, it would look less like a walk of shame than wearing your skimpy dress, just in case you had a long way to go. Thinking about whether or not this was stealing, you just decided to override your morals and just hope you saw him again someday.

As quietly as you could, you opened the door but gasped when you looked outside into the hallway. His hallway was an exact copy of yours. You looked at the number on the door, wondering if you had gone to your apartment but you saw an E32, which did not match your H19. Clearing the idea of this being your home out of your head, you closed the door and looked at your location using the 3% left of your phone battery.

You were in your own apartment complex.

“Fuck.” Not being able to decide whether you were relived or not, you just ran up the stairs to your floor after getting impatient with the elevator. You were glad that you were already in your own area and didn’t have to worry about finding a way back, but also you were worried about running into him sooner than you expected.

Your lovely H19 appeared into sight and with the panicked panting, you were finally able to have a peaceful exhale. Unlocking your door and slipping in, you were immediately met with Ferguson giving you an earful on being gone. He wasn’t used to you being gone for this long but when you bent down to pet him, he sniffed you and no longer wanted anything to do with you. It hurt to be honest, he was your only friend besides Chaeyoung, most importantly though, he was your sweet precious baby angel.

“Fine Fergie-Boy, you be like that, I’ll go wash away my sins, so you love me again.” And that’s what you did, you treated yourself to an everything shower since you hadn’t partaken in any self-care activity in such a long time. Shaving, plucking, washing, and exfoliating was some of the things you did for the next couple of hours. After drying off, you lathered your body in lotion, sighing at the relief of the cool temperature and smooth texture. Ferguson peeked his head through the crack since the door wasn’t closed. He sniffed the air, presumably smelling you without getting too close. Seemingly happy with the data he gathered, he slipped in the bathroom, but not without opening the door much more than he needed to.

You replaced Taeyong’s clothes with your own and Ferguson was more than happy to rub against the leg of your sweatpants. “Oh, my baby boy, I’m back to smelling like roses, just like what you’re used to.” You picked up the bottle of body mist and allowed Ferguson to smell it. Scent was always important to him, he only liked yours and Chaeyoung’s, no one else’s. He was stingy.

“How about we bake something? I’m thinking some kind of turnover.” Ferguson purred in response, helping you make up your mind.

After pulling the freshly baked pastries out of the oven, you suddenly remembered that you hadn’t gotten your mail for the past couple of days. You pass the mailboxes every time you go downstairs, but you only force yourself to do every couple of days.

Double checking that the oven was turned off and that the turnovers were out of Ferguson’s reach, you grabbed your apartment keys and the key that opened your mailbox.

“I’ll be right back Fergie-Boy.” You yelled over your shoulder at the now uninterested cat. Making sure your apartment was locked, you headed down the hallway towards the elevator. You had forgotten about Taeyong until you saw the E floor button on the panel in the elevator, but you shook him from your mind and just pressed the Lobby button.

Smiling at the man behind the counter, you walked next to said counter where the resident’s mailboxes were. You held the key in your hand and unlocked the little locker type door. Unsurprised was what you were when you looked through the box’s contents, bills, coupons, junk mail, the usual, of course.

“Hey stranger” a familiar voice was heard from your side and you tensed up, not mentally prepared to speak to him again. Taeyong just gave you a shy smile and unlocked his mailbox that was two rows below yours.

“Hey Taeyong, how are you?” He giggled a bit but answered your question. “Well, I’m doing pretty good, had a good night. I just can’t seem to find a shirt and pair of boxers.” He gave you a knowing side eye and raised one of his eyebrows expectantly.

You felt hot, scared that anyone near you would know what was going on, but to your relief when you looked around your surroundings, it was just you and Taeyong, even the complex’s receptionist wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

Laughing off your worry, you looked at Taeyong. “I think I might know where you put them.” His laugh was hearty, like it came from his chest, like he meant it. “Ah, really? You wouldn’t mind showing me where they are, would you?”

The crumpling sound of the mail that was now tightly gripped in your hand was the only thing keeping you down to Earth. But that wasn’t enough for you to tell him no.

“Fuck, Taeyong” your back hit your now closed door. His lips were attached to your neck, sucking the flesh into his mouth, leaving scattered marks. Both of your hands were roaming around his chest, glad to experience this again but with a clear head.

Much to your dismay, Taeyong pulled away from you in confusion and looked down by your feet. The little cock blocker himself was staring up at you. Ferguson was headbutting Taeyong’s ankles, trying to get him off of you. “You have a cat.” Taeyong bent down to give Ferguson some affection but the cat just hissed at him, not having any of it.

“Ferguson, he’s my little Fergie-Boy.” You smiled at them both. Even though you were upset at Ferguson’s distaste for Taeyong, you weren’t surprised at all. “I should’ve guessed, he looks like a Ferguson.” You bent down to both of their levels and put your hand out for Ferguson to rub against, unlike with Taeyong, the chubby cat gladly accepted your love. Even though he was preoccupied with rubbing against your hand, Ferguson kept side eyeing Taeyong.

“I think he wants me to leave.” Taeyong frowned a bit at you, waiting for you to say something. “Yeah, I think that would be for the best. Maybe we can go somewhere together sometime?” You immediately offered, not wanting Taeyong to think you weren’t interested in him after all.  

“I would like that. There’s this little café near here. Would that be something you’d like?” Your smile took over your face and you nodded. “Alright, you have my number, text me whenever you’re free. I really hope you text me.” His lips ghosted over yours and his smile matched your own. “You have my number too, you can text me first, you know?” He pecked your lips after you said that.

“The only reason I’m not going to text you first is because I don’t want you to feel pressured.” It felt like your stomach was doing somersaults. “I’ll text you.” Biting your lip to try to conceal your ever-growing smile, Taeyong brought his thumb up to your face. He pulled your lip from your teeth. “Now if you keep doing that, I don’t think I’ll be able to leave, whether your cat likes it or not.”

His nose brushed against yours, but when you tried to reconnect your lips, he pulled away and stood up.

With his hand on the doorknob, he looked down at where you were on the floor and said, “Remember to text me.” Feeling like your voice was lost somewhere in your throat, you just nodded. Taeyong chuckled lowly and opened your door, stepping out with a wink.

When your door was closed and you could hear his footsteps get quieter, you looked down at Ferguson who was already giving you the stink eye.  

“Why don’t you like him? He’s so nice and not to mention hot.” You scratched him on top of his head, trying to somehow convince him to like Taeyong.

The rest of the day went by fairly quickly. You baked a few more things, unnecessary things, but none the less your apartment was smelling like a bakery. You also caught up on laundry and did other household chores, but every now and then Ferguson would demand treats or attention.

As soon as you called it a night and sat on the cough, your bowling ball sized cat jumped on your lap, refusing to let you get comfortable before he did. “Oh how I love it when you remind me that you’re higher up in the hierarchy than I am.” You looked down at Ferguson, lightly blowing on his head, just to get him to look up at you.

“How about we text Taeyong? I know you hate him, but mommy doesn’t so we’re gonna text him.” The cat grumbled when you reached for your phone and immediately going to his contact.

you- hey, i know we just saw each other but i was wondering if you wanted to go out tomorrow

taeyong- it’s alright, i was just thinking about you so i don’t mind at all, and sure, i’d like that

taeyong- i have to work tomorrow night but i’m free in the morning and afternoon

The both of you agreed at meeting at the café Taeyong mentioned earlier around 11 AM. Although Ferguson wasn’t happy with you at the moment, you couldn’t help but pick him up off your lap and into your arms to give him a little hug.

“This is amazing Ferguson! I’m finally going on a date!” You just couldn’t keep in your excitement; it had been so long since experiencing this feeling and now that you had it back you weren’t just going to let it go.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~“Hey Taeyong!” You approached his side, excited to sit down with just him in a quiet environment. The smile he gave you caused you to believe that if you died right then, you’d be happy. “I’m so glad you showed up.”

He already had a drink sitting in front of him, but it was still full and piping hot. “Why wouldn’t I?” You racked your brain for any reasons why he would think you wouldn’t show up.

“Well, Ferguson, he doesn’t seem to like me very much and since he’s the number one man in your life, I understand that you would put him first.” Busting out a laugh, you looked at his serious face turn to a much more playfully pleasant one. “Ah, don’t worry about that sour puss, he only likes me and my best friend.”

You were honestly in disbelief with how easy it was to fall into a comfortable conversation with him and much to your displeasure, the day grew later and Taeyong had to get to work.

“I’ve had a really good time with you. Do you think we could see each other again?” This was the first time you ever saw Taeyong act bashful but here he was. This man looking at you with round innocent eyes and a blush so red it was the color of a rose covering his cheeks.

Feeling some foreign sense of power from being the cause of his expression you smirked and said, “I already planned on texting you tonight.” He laughed and leaned in, kissing you on the cheek.

The next few months went along the lines of you two going on similar cute little dates and getting to know each other. He always seemed to understand you, even if you didn’t say much, which you appreciated.

You were helping Taeyong wash dishes after eating over at his place when your arm brushed his and caused you to pause. He immediately thought you were uncomfortable with the proximity and put some distance between the two of you.

“No, no, no. That isn’t it Taeyong. I was just thinking, or I guess wondering about something, about us. What are we?” He didn’t hesitate to eliminate the space he put between you, and he answered immediately.

Now closer to you, he said quietly, “Well, I hope we’re two people who like each other and are close to being a couple.” You smiled at him and responded with, “I’m good with hurrying up and being a couple, if you want.” Taeyong shook his head in approval and pressed you up against the sink, planting his lips to yours.

Turning around, remembering the task you two had, you whispered, “Taeyong, we have dishes to wash.” You felt his head lean on your shoulder. He placed kisses along the bare skin of your neck.

“You are the light of my life. I promise you; I will never cheat on you like that bastard did.”

You never told him that. The only person that knows that would be Chae, and she doesn’t talk to Taeyong unless you’re there. Not sure how to confront him, you just stood still, keeping your back to him. “Well, shit. I guess I gave myself away.” With Taeyong mumbling nonsense, just loud enough for you to hear, you were getting more and more confused. “Wha-what are you talking about Taeyong?”

Instead of responding immediately, he just laughed, a bit sinisterly and walked closer to you. By now you had turned around and was walking backwards in order to keep some distance between you and him. But the distance decreased when your back hit the edge of the kitchen island and Taeyong kept walking towards you. You could smell his breath as it fanned over your face, minty, you once loved it, but now, you weren’t too sure what to think.

“I’ve just been watching you. Watching over you for a very long time. You’re just too special to stay away from.” Taeyong brushed the back of his fingertips on your cheekbones, lightly like a feather, causing you to finch. He laughed at your fear, finally having you cornered.

"I’m your guardian angel, I appear whenever you're in pain, but I just can't stay away from you. I've been here this whole time and you just didn't know it sweetheart." Taeyong smirked at you, but you could tell he was telling the truth even though you were praying he wasn’t. "That's impossible, I met you three months ago!" he snickered and tossed his head back.

"Then how do I know everything about you? From when you were five and scrapped your knee on the playground, when you were eight and learning how to ride a bike, you ran into that tree, or when you were 17 and becoming curious about your body. You bought a toy for yourself-" "No, please no" you were backing away from him, now scared.

"Oh yes, that's what you said that night, until you pushed that little blue toy a bit too deep, you whimpered so sweetly, my love." Taeyong brushed his knuckles along your shoulder blades and smiled gently at you, quite the contrast of what he was saying. "No matter how much or how little pain you were in, I'd always be there. Even after everyone has left you, I always stayed, right by your side."

You were on auto pilot for the rest of the night, only when Taeyong would bring up old memories would you show any reaction. You’d cringe or tense whenever he’d say anything about him watching over you. When it was time to go to bed, you couldn’t sleep at all. The thought of you never being able to do anything without him seeing made you sick. Every time you’ve talked to somebody, went through something emotional, had sex, Taeyong saw it all.  Tears were streaming down your face, and you couldn’t do anything about it since the man you thought you knew turned out to be a complete stranger was right next to you.

Taeyong was sleeping, or at least you thought he was, so you took this as your chance to leave. As quietly as you could, you grabbed your purse from one of the chairs by your kitchen island and tiptoed to the door. You reached forward and wrapped your hand around the chilled doorknob and you turned it as you pulled it open. A hand appeared over your shoulder and pressed against the door, shutting it.

“What are you doing Y/n?” Your blood ran cold, terrified to turn around, you just stayed facing forward. “I need to go to work Taeyong.” His hand left the door and out of your sight, but you the suspense of where it was didn’t last long. Feeling both of his hands on your shoulders, rubbing your shoulder blades, you tensed up.

 “Why would you do that? There are so many dangerous things out there, I need to keep you safe.” Shaking your head rapidly as Taeyong used his hold on you to lead you away from the door. “Please Taeyong, you can’t keep me here.” Tears were threatening to fall from your eyes when Taeyong drug his nose along your neck. He chuckled against your ear, “Oh but I can. I was assigned to you and you to me, we were paired by the gods above. I broke the rules for you, my love. You see, you were never supposed to know I existed, I was supposed to live in the shadows.” “I didn’t ask you to do that Tae-” You tried to reason with the man who kept tightening his grip on you the more he spoke.

“No, you didn’t, but I couldn’t stand just observing you, that was enough for a while. However, I grew tired of being forced to watch you and not touch you.” His hands moved from your back to your stomach, where they moved up slowly, until they were hovering above your breasts. “Please, Taeyong, no, please stop.”

The tears finally fell and the man behind you just removed his hands and laughed. “I don’t want to force you to do anything, it would be much more enjoyable if you were begging me to do something. I don’t wish to be the man you hate; I desire to be the man you love.”

He went to bring you back into his embrace but when he got close you slapped his hands away. “I will never love you.” Taeyong just turned around to look out the window. You heard a hum come from the back of his mouth, “You may not love me now, but you will. If it takes me keeping you here and being the only person, you ever see again, then so be it.”

“Now, let’s get you to bed, you’re acting ridiculous, you must have not of gotten enough sleep.” Taeyong picked you up from where you were sitting on the floor ever since your knees buckled, his presence tore you apart. His embrace was warm, and it made you want to nuzzle into him but the thought of him not letting you leave made you want to puke.

“Why Taeyong?” You sniffled and your nose felt raw as he laid you on the bed. “You’re smarter than this Y/n, that’s an easy answer. It’s because I love you. It just helps that it’s also my job to keep you safe.” He laid next to you. Immediately being reminded of the times you and Taeyong would lay together before you found out who he really was, you were aching to move closer to him, but he kept the distance.

You thought about how he knew you better than anyone else did, but of course, he had an advantage.

Taeyong rarely let you leave the house without him, and you feel like you haven’t seen Chaeyoung in such a long time. You text her as often as you can, but it wasn’t the same.

Looking across the table at him, you questioned where you went wrong in this. You shouldn’t of ever gone to the club with Chaeyoung, or you should’ve at least not of sat down at the bar, in front of him. The thought of that night made you realize just how much you missed Chaeyoung.

“What’s the matter sweetheart?” Your sight refocused, getting out of the fuzzy daze you at put yourself in. “Oh, nothing, don’t worry about it.” Wanting to ignore him, you shut down his advances of conversation.

He just laughed and got up. “I think you forgot what I am to you. I know you’re in pain now, so tell me what’s the matter. I hate seeing you hurt.” His sweet words and sweet voice made you think twice about if Taeyong was actually a bad guy. He cared about you, he listened to you. Even though he made you live with him, he allowed Ferguson to come with him and he even endured the scratches and bites the cat would lay on him.

Exhaling, you told him. “I just miss Chae so much; she’s my only friend and I haven’t seen her in a while.” Taeyong frowned at you, “I know you miss her but I just, I can’t risk losing you. She might lie to you and say I’m mean or something.” You just nodded in acceptance, giving up at attempting to convince him to let you see her again.

“I’m going to the bathroom and then I’ll help you clean up from dinner.” Just staring blankly in front of you, you nodded and laid your chin on your folded arms on the table. Longingly staring at the door, you thought about how easy it would be to leave. It wasn’t like you had much to lose so you waited for Taeyong to step out of the kitchen and head into the bathroom.

Squeezing out of the chair, you refused to move it, afraid that the scraping of the chair on the floor would alert him. Quickly but quietly, you approached the door, terrified that he would return soon. You had the first lock unlocked but when you heard the toilet flush, you didn’t care about the volume of your escape. Your only concern was getting out of the apartment.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Taeyong yelled from the bathroom and when you had the door open finally, his arms were already around your waist.

“No Taeyong, let me go. I do not want you near me right now.” His grip around your waist only got tighter. “Oh baby, I’m always gonna be right by your side, and there’s nothing you can do about it.” He was trying to drag you away from the door but struggled to do so when you started dragging your feet and kicking at him.

Screams were starting to leave your throat, some words and others just noise. “No! Let go of me!” Taeyong rolled his eyes at you, thinking about how dramatic you were being. You loved him and he loved you, so much. You shouldn’t be running away from him.

“You love me, stop whining.” His voice was eerily calm, calmer than normal. “I don’t love you, what the fuck are you talking about? I want you to let go of me!” Taeyong started mumbling to himself and the words flying quietly out of his mouth made you think that you should’ve gone along with it. “You…what? You don’t love me?”

All of a sudden it was like you couldn’t even struggle anymore, Taeyong had found a way to keep you still. “Well, if you don’t love me, I’ll just have to keep you here until you do. Until I can trust you to not leave me.”

“Taeyong! Please! I don’t want this; I want you to go away!” Tears were rushing down your face, but the sob that was trying to bubble up stayed in your throat. “But if I go away who will stay with you? This is why you wonder why people don’t love you, it’s because you push them away.” His grip loosened and soon he dropped you on the floor and started to grab his coat. “Fine, I tried to love you, but I guess you just don’t want to be loved. Goodbye Y/n.”

You watched him leave the apartment and instead of feeling relieved, you felt empty. What if he was right? What if you were hard to love? Did you really push everyone away? It would make sense, he had a point, a good one. He knew you better than anyone else. Taeyong knew you better than you knew yourself.

Maybe if you got up now, you’d still be able to catch him, he couldn’t have made it to his car that fast. Getting up as fast as you could, you ran to the door and threw it open. But when you started running out, your face hit a hard wall immediately. The wall’s hands fell to your hips in attempt to steady you and then you realized you knew this wall.

“Taeyong! I’m so s-” his left pointer finger contacted your lips before you could get out your apology. “No, I should be the one apologizing, what I said was rude and unnecessary, I was upset and let my emotions take over me. I’m sorry for the pain I caused you, that is what I try to avoid, you getting hurt. I am truly and genuinely ashamed that I was the one to cause you pain.”

His apology made your heart ache and only caused you to feel bad for the way you treated him. “No, Yongie, I’m sorry for always being so difficult and I never meant to push you away, you’ve always been there to help me, and I am forever grateful for you. I didn’t mean it when I said I didn’t love you, I do, I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone ever and I’m sorry I hurt your feelings.” The boy smiled at you and cupped your cheek, he used his other hand to help pick you up off the floor and pulled you into his arms. “We’re both sorry and we both love each other, how about we leave it at that? No more tears tonight.” He wiped the remaining droplets with his thumbs and let you back inside.

“I’ve learned that you get tired after being upset, so let’s lay down and rest up before the new day.” You silently agreed and allowed Taeyong to pick you up when he asked for permission. “It’ll be okay Y/n, just forget about it, no more sniffles.” You giggled and leaned your head on his shoulder when he made his way through your living room, down the hallway, and soon into the bedroom.

Taeyong had been correct, whenever you were upset, you got awfully tired, as soon as your head hit the pillow, you were already at the point between being awake and being asleep. The last thing you remembered from the night was Taeyong kissing your forehead and rubbing your arm soothingly.

“In the morning, text Chaeyoung and ask her to meet you for bunch.” You smiled, glad that you would see her again.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Chaeyoung broke the silence, asking the question to receive the possible answer that feared her. “Does he hurt you?” You told the truth immediately, “No, he doesn’t hurt me. Not physically at least, he’ll hurt my feelings when he’s mad, but he apologizes soon after. In his defense, most of the time, I’m asking for it.”  

She just sipped her smoothie in silence, thinking about what to say without hurting your fragile state. Chaeyoung knew that you weren’t telling her something, you kept fidgeting, looking around, as if you were being watched. The only thing she didn’t know was that you were, Taeyong was lurking around the corner, like he always was, because it’s his job.

“Y/n…I know something is wrong, tell me what it is.” But she didn’t say it, she wrote it. Her frantic handwriting was now on one of the napkins, she all but threw you the pen and waited for your response.

You knew that Taeyong was somewhere behind you, always observing your surroundings. So, you mouthed your next words carefully and slowly, making sure Chaeyoung caught every last syllable. It’s going to sound really fucking weird. You’re not going to believe me, but I need you to.

Instead of saying something out loud, she just nodded and waited for you to write down everything. You could see her trying to read your writing upside down, but you covered the napkin, not wanting her to skip anything. She needed to read it all.

Deciding to summarize everything to save time and to save your wrist some pain, ending your sentence with an explanation point, you passed the paper to Chaeyoung. Sitting back and watching her expressions, waiting for her reaction, you needed her to believe you, you didn’t know what you would do if she didn’t.

Chaeyoung never said anything for the rest of the brunch date, but she wrote, I know how to get rid of him. You released the breath caught in your throat, thankful that she was someone who believed and knew about “other-worldly” things.

Paying the bill and nodding in farewell, you parted ways as soon as you got out of the door, an unspoken promise to text later. Taeyong wouldn’t know what you guys said over text unless he looked at it. He could hear and see you, but he wouldn’t be able to see writing unless he was right over your shoulder. Taeyong was your guardian angel but there were still rules he needed to follow, although some rules didn’t seem too important to him.

You didn’t look back at Chaeyoung and you were glad, because as expected, Taeyong appeared at your side. “How was your brunch?” He peeked his head over your shoulder, and you hated how cute you thought he looked, how cute he was. “It was good, but uh- Tae? I want to ask you something.”

He smiled and gave you a looked that told you to continue, and with a deep breath to calm yourself, you let it out. “I feel like over the past months we’ve been together, I’ve done my best to show you how much I love you, and I was hoping you trust me by now. Would it be okay if I hung out with Chae, without you around me, visible or invisible, I want to hang out with her alone. She’s gonna help me find a gift for you.” You squeezed his hand in emphasis, hoping it would lead his mind to his favorite things. Sex and you.

Taeyong didn’t say anything at first, just thinking to himself. He wanted you to continue to love him, but he was created to protect you, you in all of your lifetimes, both past and future, as well as this one. “I suppose you can, I will give you three hours to hang out with her and I won’t even watch over you, but you have to promise me that at any moment you feel unsafe or any pain, you text me, immediately.”

Barely able to hide the joy, you kissed him. You knew he liked kissing you, and unable to lie to yourself, you knew that you liked kissing him as well. Hating the way he made you feel, you deepened the kiss, knowing it would be one of the last. “Thank you Yongie, I love you, so much.”

A few minutes later, once you two had made it to the comfort of your own home, Taeyong had you bent over the kitchen counter with your pants and panties around your ankles. “You smell so good.” You felt his nose meet your clenching hole, inhaling your arousal. Letting yourself indulge in this, one last time, your muscles relaxed, until a feeling you had only felt once take over. His tongue licked over your puckered rim. Every time Taeyong had tried this with you, you turned down his advances, but this time, you weren’t going to. At this point, you were going to do anything to keep him happy.

Taeyong waited for you to tense up and push him away, but once you didn’t, he kissed your hole. “Fuck, are you really gonna let me in there?” You whined in approval when you felt his mouth go back down to your pussy.

 His tongue went back and forth between your folds, with the occasional lap around your ass. “I’m sorry but I don’t think I can wait, I need to be in you.” You moaned at the loss but it was replaced by a yell when Taeyong swiftly turned you around and entered your cunt.

 “Oh fuck, always so tight for me. No matter how many times I fuck you, you’re always so fucking tight.” Taeyong’s teeth gritted together and picked you up off your feet. Walking the two of you to the couch, he never once removed you off his cock. Sitting down on the couch, his hands were placed on your hips, forcing you up and down onto his cock, forcing you to ride him.

 “Open your mouth.” You listened to his command. He took one hand off of your hips and placed two fingers in your mouth. “Suck on them.” Sucking and licking as much as you could with the overwhelming pleasure, your moans interrupted your task. Taeyong deemed your work not good enough and started fucking his fingers into your mouth, wetting them as much as possible.

 While you were distracted with the feeling of his fingers dragging along your tongue and hitting the back of your throat at some points, his cock continuously slammed into the spot that made you clench your pussy around him. With each contraction of your walls, Taeyong let out a whine that caused your pussy to gush more arousal.

“Fuck, making such a mess. Can feel you leaking all the way to my balls.” His fingers were triggering your gag reflex and it caused tears to run down your face, you couldn’t hold it in or control it at all at this point. “My messy baby, made just for me.”

He removed his fingers, and his spit-soaked hand left your eyesight. But the mystery was soon solved when you felt his fingers circle your asshole. “Taeyong-” He didn’t stop or slow at the sound of your whines and soon one of his fingers were forcing its way through your unused hole.

You gasped once you got used to the initial stretch and pain when Taeyong played with the walls that haven’t ever been touched. He barely gave you any time to prepare for the next finger though because soon it was joining the first.

“Oh fuck, next time, I’m gonna shove my cock in there. Fill your ass with my cum. Make you my horny little bitch.” The way he was talking to you made you humiliatingly wet and he didn’t let it go unnoticed.

“Maybe you’re already my little bitch, you’re ruining the couch with your slutty cum. But my stupid baby can’t help it huh?” You were out of it, the feeling of both your holes being filled and your clit grinding against his pelvic bone, you whined, but Taeyong didn’t take that as an answer.

His free hand made contact with your face, slapping you. He grabbed your cheeks and forced you to stare at him. “You’re my messy little bitch, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Tae- I am. M’gonna cum. Need to cum.” You were babbling and Taeyong laughed at your attempts to speak. “I’m close too, are you gonna squirt all over me?” You just nodded.

The hand that was holding your face still was removed and took place at your pussy. When your cunt clenched one last time Taeyong pinched your clit and you let it all go. The whine that left your throat intensified at the feeling of his hot cum filling you up. Your grip on his shoulders tightened while he rode out the rest of your highs.

“Welcome back baby, you left me there for a minute.” When your eyes opened you were in your shared bed, wearing his clothes, and looking up at him with tired eyes. You giggled at him and allowed him to pull you to his chest, holding you close after the intense feeling your body endured.

“I hope you enjoyed yourself.” Taeyong petted your hair soothingly. “I did, did you?” You felt him nod and heard him yawn, interrupting himself. “I always do when it’s with you.”

The last thing you heard him say was, “I hope you enjoy your time with Chaeyoung tomorrow.” And everything came crashing down again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~“So, what’s going to happen afterwards is that Taeyong will still exist, but he won’t be your guardian angel anymore. He won’t be able to watch you anymore and he won’t be able to have an influence on your or your life, unless you allow him to. You have to stay strong if you ever run into him again.” Just nodding along, you looked at Chaeyoung, waiting for her to continue.

“Since you can’t exactly survive without a guardian angel, so you’ll be getting a new one. The only downside is that he isn’t an angel. He’s from hell because if Taeyong does somehow regain his power, another angel wouldn’t be able to stop him, only someone who isn’t good.” You felt better knowing that you’ll still be protected from the evils of the world, but more importantly, from Taeyong.”

Chaeyoung reached over towards you and grasped your hand, trying to comfort you since you weren’t saying anything. With her other hand that wasn’t holding yours, she lit the black candle.

“Alright, are you ready for this?” Chaeyoung whispered into the dark, the only light source in the room was the now lit candle sitting between you. With a shaking breath, you nodded your head. “I’m kind of nervous but this needs to happen.” You looked over to her, only seeing two emotions on her face. Relief and since its Chaeyoung, there’s of course excitement mixed in.

You looked at the floor you were sitting on, taking in everything. Taeyong would be gone and out of your life soon.

Chae was looking down at the worn book she had in her lap, reading over the page, making sure everything was correct. She had gone over different things you would need and made sure you had them. “Do you have a piece of his hair?” You held up a little plastic baggie that held a few strands of Taeyong’s hair.

You were thankful that his hair was the only thing you needed to bring, Chaeyoung on the other hand was more than happy to bring all of the “weird” items. A variety of dried herbs sat around you two, with several other items, such as feathers from ravens and crows, serpent skulls, a vial with a dead black widow spider and a bunch of salt that surrounded you and all of your items. From an overhead view, one would see the shape the salt was in, a pentagram.

“Okay, I’m going to read the script and you’re going to toss the pieces of his hair into the flame of the candle.” You just nodded and opened the bag to take out his hair. “Let’s just get this over with, okay? It’ll all be over soon.”

Looking over the flame one last time you dipped your head in approval. Chaeyoung squeezed your hand and started chanting. Words you didn’t know were calmly yet fiercely flying out of her mouth, in a language that you could only describe as something like Latin.

While Chaeyoung was chanting, the flame grew wild, and you grew afraid of the fire taking over the stick of wax. Your eyes widened when the flame spread to the pentagram of salt. Soon, every grain of salt was on fire, and you didn’t know what to do. Chaeyoung saw what was happening, but she just kept chanting, her voice growing in volume as the fire grew in size. The fire however, stayed on top of the salt, never going outside of the lines or inside, closer to the two of you, but the heat was starting to get to you.

You wanted to reach out to her, but she told you beforehand, under no circumstances should you move or speak until it was safe. She had mentioned the fire, but you now understood just how much you underestimated her words. Chaeyoung had spoken up about how intense this would get since you were dealing with higher powers. With everything running through your head, you still looked at Chaeyoung and listened for her to stop talking, that’s when you would do the one thing, she told you to do.

Droplets hit your thighs and since you weren’t able to look down, you assumed it was sweat. But when you moved your hand up to wipe your cheeks, you felt the drops of liquid come from your eyes. You hadn’t even realized that you were crying but you weren’t able to think about it for too long, because Chaeyoung had stopped talking and the look in her eye altered.

The fine strands of hair that had been pinched between your fingers were heavier than you thought, or it was your conscious, but you needed this. Raising your shaky hand, you hovered it over the orange flame that had ingulfed the candle, the wax starting to spread across the hardwood floors.

Your fingers were pressed tightly against each other so much so that when you released Taeyong’s hair, your fingertips ached. Almost in slow motion, the dark hair fluttered in the air, mixing with the ambers of the fire. When you expected the hair to float down, it never touched the ground, an amber touched the end of each one, and slowly it burned. Burned into nothing. As soon as each hair disintegrated, the fire disappeared altogether. The room was dark, silent, and oddly cold.

You opened your mouth, attempting to whisper out to Chaeyoung, but nothing came out, too scared to do anything.

“It’s okay. He’s gone now, he can’t hurt you anymore.” Your head was spinning, and your eyes were straining from trying to see in the dark. Still too afraid to say anything, you and Chaeyoung sat in silence.

The silence went on for a bit until you remembered something Chaeyoung said at the beginning of this. “What about the new guy?”

“He should already be here. Normally guardian angels aren’t supposed to show themselves but obviously Taeyong didn’t listen to that rule, since he still has his human form and he will most likely live out the rest of his life here on Earth, your new guardian will also take a human form. It will act as a precaution just incase Taeyong tries anything.” You looked around the room since she said he should already be here but because of the room still being pitch black, you didn’t have any luck.

All of a sudden, the almost completely burnt-out candle, relit. When you the light illuminated the room, you jumped. A man was sitting next to you, one that was beautifully sinister. “I guess I’m your new guardian angel.” He smiled a big toothy smile, but it didn’t show genuine happiness, his smile should sinful excitement.

You looked over at Chae in worry. “Oh, don’t worry, I can’t do anything fun. Your witchy friend set a little curse on me so I behave.” Your eyes met the man’s and you nodded sheepishly at him.

“What’s your name?” Chaeyoung interrupted the staring contest you were unwillingly in, but even though you looked away, the man continued to stare. “Yuta” you offered your own name, but he already knew it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~You were happy with Yuta being your guardian angel, or demon. He kept his distance, protected you, all while developing a friendship with you. He understood your boundaries but still warned you before going out, to just be aware if Taeyong was near. The best part about Yuta though, was that he was the first man and third overall person that Ferguson liked.

Whenever you had an uneasy feeling, but still needed to go out, Yuta offered to go with you, but never making the decision for you.

“So, we just need things for the apartment, like paper towels, toilet paper, cereal, food for Ferguson. Things like that.” You read off your list, allowing Yuta to guide you through the aisles of the super store.

Yuta helped you look for the items that you needed and asked if you wanted him to carry the big bag of cat food.

“I could get it for her.” Taeyong.

“Fuck off man, leave her alone. You already ruined her life so just let us be.” Yuta stepped in front of you, doing what he was summoned to do. Taeyong just laughed condescendingly, not intimidated by Yuta at all.

“You know you still love me, and there’s nothing you can do about it. You can’t deny the way you felt about me before you knew who I truly was.” His attention was now directed at you and you hated how he was right. You did love Taeyong, but he also lied to you, and then abused the power he had over you. You hated the fact that if Taeyong never gave away his secret, you would still be with him.

“C’mon baby, admit it. You still love me, and you miss me.” Shaking your head, not in disagreement but in denial, Taeyong stepped forward. Yuta’s aura changed, no longer in the laid-back vibe he normally gave off but now it was protective.

Yuta set the bag of food down on the ground next to you so his hands would be empty. “I’m not gonna ask you again man, step back.” Yuta warned Taeyong one last time but even with the warning, Taeyong stepped forward. And then he was gone.

“Taeyong?” Nothing remained in the spot in which he stood, and your first reaction was to grasp for him, anything left. “Is he gone? Forever?” Your knees hit the cold floor and the material of your jeans did nothing to stop the chill.

Yuta’s hand was heavy yet comforting on your shoulder. You stood up and buried your face into his chest, seeking some kind of comfort. He was gentler than you thought he would be. His arms wrapped around your back, matching the tightness in which you held him. One of his hands reached up and he ran his fingers through your hair.

“How about we go get something to eat and shop another time?” You agreed but still asked to buy the cat food since Ferguson needed it.

The emptiness in your stomach was mistaken for hunger, but you knew that wasn’t it. There was a park across the street from the store and in the park parking lot, there was a food truck. Still carrying the bag of food, Yuta offered you his hand and walked you over to the food truck.

“What are you thinking about getting?” You really didn’t care about what you ate, you just wanted something to fill the void that was now in your stomach. “I’ll just get whatever you get.” He squeezed your hand, understanding that you didn’t want to speak much.

After eating you were able to calm down, maybe it was the food, but you enjoyed the company more. Yuta did this thing where he made up stories and double lives for the people around you, and he kept making them crazier and crazier when he saw that it made you smile. You even made up a few but your imagination wasn’t nearly as creative and wild as Yuta’s.

You finished making a story about an old lady who was a secret agent assassin in her youth when you noticed Yuta’s silence. And after him making you feel better, you were kind of sad that he was no longer in a good mood.

“What’s the matter Yuta?” You looked out over the water. The sight of the sun reflecting off of the water calming you. But that feeling was quickly replaced by something not nearly as pleasant.

“I can’t say I blame Taeyong for everything he’s done. I’m starting to want you all to myself as well.”

writing a lee taeyong angst fic rn got me feeling like that one tiktok emoji

smile for me (웃어줘) — lee taeyong (이태용)

✧.*

fate was a silent sculptor, a force that worked with the grace of a master artisan, molding the raw clay of existence into shapes unforeseen. it was an entity shrouded in mystery, an invisible thread weaver, pulling taut the strands of your life with an artistry both cruel and kind. every choice, every chance encounter, every seemingly trivial moment—fate held them in its delicate hands, spinning them into the tapestry of your existence.

but fate was not a mere craftsman; it was an omnipotent architect, capable of constructing entire worlds with a single breath. it could raise mountains of joy or carve deep valleys of despair with equal precision. it had the power to guide your steps down paths you never intended to tread, to bring you to your knees with the weight of its decisions, or to lift you to heights unimaginable, where the air was thin and every breath felt like a gift.

in its infinite wisdom, fate was both a gentle whisper and a thunderous roar. it spoke to you in the quiet moments of dawn, when the sky blushed with the promise of a new day, and it shouted at you in the chaos of a storm, when the winds howled with untamed ferocity. it was the unseen hand that nudged you towards love when your heart was unguarded and the ruthless tyrant that tore it away when you least expected it.

you knew that fate was not to be questioned. it was an ancient force, older than time itself, a presence that moved through the ages with a purpose unfathomable to mortal minds. it carried within it the echoes of a million lifetimes, the hopes and dreams of those who had come before you, and the silent prayers of those yet to be born. it was neither kind nor cruel, neither friend nor foe; it simply was.

the weight of nostalgia wrapped around you like a heavy blanket as your thoughts drifted back to those tender years when love was a golden thread that tied you and taeyong together. you were both so young, too young to understand the depth of the feelings that had blossomed between you, yet old enough to believe that what you shared was something eternal. it was the kind of love that flourished in secret, nurtured by stolen glances and whispered words under the cover of twilight. you could still remember the way his eyes lit up when he saw you, a brilliant, unwavering gaze that made you feel like you were the only person in the world. he had always been like that—intense, focused, as though nothing else mattered when you were together.

there was one evening, a memory still vivid in your mind, when the two of you had escaped to the old playground behind the school. the swings creaked with age, and the air was thick with the scent of rain that had just passed. you sat side by side, your hands barely touching, as you watched the sun dip below the horizon, painting the sky with hues of pink and gold.

“do you think we’ll always be like this?” you had asked him, your voice soft, almost hesitant. it was a question that carried the weight of your unspoken fears—the fear that this moment, like all things, would eventually fade.

taeyong had turned to you, his expression serious, but his eyes held that familiar warmth. “i don’t know what the future holds,” he had replied, his voice steady, “but as long as you’re here, i’ll be happy.” he reached for your hand then, his fingers lacing through yours in a way that felt both comforting and electrifying. you had smiled at him, feeling the warmth of his touch seep into your skin, anchoring you to that moment, to him. it was one of those rare times when the world seemed to stop, and all that existed was the two of you, together.

but the world didn’t stop, and neither did time. there were other memories, too—nights spent talking about dreams and fears, of futures you dared not imagine without each other. he had always been the more daring of the two, the one who would pull you into the unknown with a laugh and a promise that it would all be okay. and it always was, as long as he was by your side.

yet, nothing lasted forever. the inevitability of change came crashing into your life on a day that should have been ordinary. you could still hear the sound of your mother’s voice breaking as she delivered the news—the kind of news that shatters the world you thought you knew.

your sister was gone. the accident had been swift, merciless, taking her from you without warning, without time to prepare or to say goodbye. the grief that followed was a dark, suffocating cloud that settled over your home, over your heart. and with it came the decision that would alter the course of your life.

“we’re moving to gangnam,” your father had said, his voice heavy with a resolve that left no room for argument. it was meant to be a fresh start, a way to escape the memories that haunted every corner of your old life. but for you, it was the end of everything you knew, including your relationship with taeyong. you could still remember the day you told him. it was the last day of summer, the air thick with the scent of autumn just around the corner. you met him at the park, the same place where so many of your memories had been made. but this time, there was no laughter, no lightheartedness. only the heavy weight of what you had to say.

“i’m leaving,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you fought to hold back the tears that threatened to spill. “my family, we’re moving to gangnam. i don’t have a choice.”

taeyong’s eyes widened, disbelief and pain flashing across his face. “no, you can’t,” he murmured, stepping closer to you as if he could somehow change the reality with his presence alone. “we’ll find a way, we always do.”

but there was no way this time, and you both knew it. the distance, the grief, the weight of everything that had happened—it was too much. you shook your head, unable to meet his gaze. “we can’t, tae. this time, it really is goodbye.” he was silent for a long time, the kind of silence that felt like it stretched on forever, as if the world itself was holding its breath. when he finally spoke, his voice was low, filled with a sadness that broke your heart all over again. “i don’t want to say goodbye to you.”

you finally looked up at him, your vision blurred with unshed tears. “neither do i,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “but we don’t have a choice.”

he took your hand then, just as he had so many times before, but this time it felt different—final. he held it tightly, as if trying to memorize the feel of your skin against his, as if this one touch could somehow bridge the distance that was about to come between you.

“promise me something,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “promise me you’ll be happy, no matter what happens.” you nodded, unable to find the words. your throat was tight, your heart breaking with every second that passed. but you knew you had to let him go, just as he had to let you go.

he smiled at you then, a sad, beautiful smile that you knew you would carry with you for the rest of your life. “smile for me,” he whispered, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped down your cheek. “just once more, before you go.”

you forced yourself to smile, though it felt like your heart was shattering into a thousand pieces. he leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead, his breath warm against your skin.

“i’ll never forget you,” he murmured against your hair, his voice breaking. “no matter where you go, or how much time passes. i’ll never forget.” you closed your eyes, savoring the warmth of that moment, knowing it was the last you would share. when you opened them again, he was already stepping back, his hand slipping from yours as if he was afraid to hold on too tightly, afraid to break you both. you watched him go, your heart aching with every step he took away from you. and when he was finally gone, you stood there for what felt like hours, the weight of the goodbye settling over you like a heavy, unbearable burden.

and though you eventually turned and walked away, leaving behind the park, the memories, and the boy you had once loved, you knew that a part of you would always remain there, with him, in the echoes of your past.

time had a way of healing wounds, softening the sharp edges of pain until they became manageable, like scars that faded but never entirely disappeared. after the storm of your past, you had found solace in creation, in the art of storytelling, where you could lose yourself in worlds of your own making. it was there, behind the lens of a camera, that you found your true calling.

filmmaking became your salvation. each frame you captured, each story you brought to life, was a step forward—a way to channel your grief, your loss, and the remnants of love that still lingered in the corners of your heart. you poured yourself into your work, every script a piece of your soul, every scene a reflection of your journey.

there was one film in particular, one that marked the turning point in your career and life. it was a story about love and loss, about the inevitability of change and the beauty that could still be found within it. it was a story that, in many ways, mirrored your own, though you kept that truth hidden beneath layers of fiction.

on the day of the premiere, you stood at the back of the theater, watching as the audience was drawn into the world you had created. the lights dimmed, the opening scene played, and you felt a sense of pride swell within you—a pride that you had not felt in a long time. you had done it. you had taken the broken pieces of your heart and crafted them into something beautiful, something that resonated with others.

when the lights came up and the applause filled the room, you allowed yourself a moment to close your eyes, to let the sound wash over you. it was more than just success; it was a validation of everything you had been through, a sign that you had not only survived but thrived.

later, as you mingled with guests at the after-party, you found yourself surrounded by admirers—people who had been touched by your work, who saw in you the talent and drive that had carried you this far. but amid the congratulations and praise, there was one moment that stood out above the rest.

a young aspiring filmmaker approached you, her eyes wide with admiration. “your film, it was incredible,” she said, her voice trembling with emotion. “i’ve always wanted to make films, but i never thought i could do it. watching your work, it’s made me believe that maybe i can.”

you smiled at her, seeing a reflection of your younger self in her eyes. “you can,” you assured her, your voice steady and warm. “if you have a story to tell, then nothing should stop you from telling it. the world needs to hear it, and you’re the only one who can share it in your way.” she beamed at your words, and you felt a deep sense of fulfillment knowing that you had inspired someone else to follow their dreams. it was in that moment that you realized how far you had come, not just in your career, but in your journey of healing.

the years had been kind to you, and as you continued to create, to tell stories that moved and inspired, you found that the pain of the past had become a source of strength, rather than a burden. you had taken the darkest chapters of your life and turned them into art, into something that could touch the hearts of others and remind them that there was always hope, even in the face of loss.

but you were not the only one who had found success in the years that followed your breakup with taeyong. he, too, had risen to the heights of his potential, carving out a name for himself in the world of acting. he had always possessed a natural talent, a charisma that drew people to him, both on and off the screen. his presence was magnetic, his performances imbued with a raw intensity that captivated audiences. he had a way of slipping into his roles, of becoming the characters he portrayed, with a depth that left those who watched him breathless.

you heard about his success in the way one might hear about the weather—a constant, ever-present topic of conversation among those in your circle. his name was on the lips of critics and fans alike, his face gracing the covers of magazines, his performances earning him accolades and awards.

there was one film, in particular, that catapulted him into the spotlight, a gritty drama that required him to delve into the darkest recesses of the human experience. it was a role that demanded everything from him, both physically and emotionally, and he delivered with a performance that was nothing short of transformative.

as you watched the film, you couldn’t help but be struck by how far he had come, how much he had grown since those days when the two of you had been just a couple of kids with big dreams. he had taken the raw potential that you had always seen in him and honed it into something extraordinary.

his eyes, those same eyes that had once looked at you with so much love, now held a depth of emotion that spoke of experience, of a life lived and lessons learned. he was no longer the boy you had loved; he was a man who had faced his demons and come out stronger for it. in interviews, he spoke with the same quiet confidence that you remembered, but there was a wisdom in his words now, a maturity that came from the years that had passed. “acting is more than just pretending,” he once said during a particularly poignant interview. “it’s about understanding, about feeling deeply and sharing that with the world. it’s about connection.”

you couldn’t help but smile as you listened to him speak, recognizing the passion in his voice, the same passion that had driven you both to pursue your dreams. he had found his place in the world, just as you had found yours, and though your paths had diverged, there was a sense of pride in knowing that you had both made it.

the years had changed you both, in ways that were both subtle and profound. but as you reflected on all that had happened, on the successes and the sorrows, you realized that there was no regret in your heart. the love you had shared with him had been beautiful in its time, and though it had ended, it had left you both with something invaluable—a strength that carried you through the darkest times, and a determination to succeed, no matter the obstacles. and so, you continued to create, to inspire, to tell stories that mattered. and somewhere out there, taeyong did the same, each of you living the life that you had once dreamed of, finding your place in the world, and knowing that, in some way, you would always be connected by the memories of a love that had shaped you both.

the world had always been a stage for taeyong, a place where he could perform, transform, and transcend the boundaries of the ordinary. the lights, the cameras, the applause—these were the constants in his life, the elements that shaped him and gave him purpose. yet behind the scenes, away from the adoring fans and the glittering awards, there were moments that never made it to the silver screen. moments where the performance slipped, and reality seeped in, raw and unforgiving.

it was a day like any other, the sun bright against the city skyline, casting long shadows that danced along the pavement. taeyong found himself at the doctor's office, a place that had become all too familiar over the past few months. he had always been diligent about his health, keeping up with his annual check-ups, even when his schedule was packed. but this visit carried a weight that he had been trying to ignore, a heaviness that settled in his chest as he sat in the waiting room, flipping through a magazine without really seeing the pages.

when the nurse called his name, he stood, his movements fluid, graceful—an actor slipping into a role. he followed her down the hallway, past the sterile walls and closed doors, until they reached the examination room. the nurse smiled at him, a practiced, polite smile, before leaving him to wait.

and so he waited, the seconds stretching into minutes, each one a reminder of why he was here. he looked around the room, at the medical posters on the walls, the jars of tongue depressors and cotton balls, the examination table covered in crisp white paper. it all felt surreal, like a scene in one of his films, only this time there was no script, no director to call cut.

finally, the door opened, and doctor kim entered, his expression calm and measured, though taeyong could see the strain behind his eyes. they had known each other for years, the doctor having been a constant in his life, someone who had seen him through the ups and downs of his career, who had celebrated his successes and supported him through the tough times.

“taeyong,” the doctor greeted him with a nod, taking a seat at his desk. he pulled out a file, flipping it open and scanning the contents before looking up. “how have you been feeling?”

he leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other, his smile easy, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “good, i suppose. busy, as always. the new project’s been keeping me on my toes.”

the doctor nodded, though his focus remained on the file in front of him. he let out a quiet sigh, closing the folder with a soft snap. “taeyong, we need to talk about your test results.” there it was, the moment he had been dreading, the words he had hoped he would never have to hear again. he kept his expression neutral, though his heart pounded in his chest. “has it gotten worse?” he asked, his voice steady, but there was a tension there, a crack beneath the surface.

the doctor's gaze softened, and taeyong could see the sadness in his eyes, the weight of what he had to say. “i’m afraid so,” he replied quietly. “the cancer has spread.”

the words hung in the air, heavy and oppressive, pressing down on taeyong’s shoulders like a physical force. he swallowed hard, his throat tight, but he didn’t let his composure falter. “well,” he said, forcing a smile, “i guess that’ll make for an interesting documentary, don’t you think? the story of an actor battling against the odds. it’s got drama, emotion, everything a good film needs.”

but the attempt at levity fell flat, the joke hollow in the face of reality. doctor kim didn’t smile. instead, he leaned forward, his voice gentle, full of compassion. “taeyong, i’m so sorry. i know this isn’t what you wanted to hear.” for a moment, he couldn’t find the words. he stared at the floor, his vision blurring at the edges as the reality of the situation crashed down on him. the dreams he had, the plans for the future—all of it suddenly felt fragile, like glass that could shatter with the slightest touch.

he had always been in control, always the one who called the shots, who decided how his story would be told. but now, now he was faced with something that he couldn’t direct, something that wouldn’t follow the script he had written for himself.

“i thought i had more time,” he finally murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “i thought, i could beat this.”

despite it all, he managed a weak smile, though his mind was already racing, trying to process what this meant for him, for his career, for the life he had built. he had always been a fighter, someone who never gave up, no matter how tough the battle. but now, it felt like a war he wasn’t sure he could win.

the studio was your sanctuary, a place where creativity flowed freely and the boundaries of reality blurred into the world of film. the walls were lined with storyboards, sketches, and notes, each one a fragment of a story waiting to be told. the room was filled with the soft hum of computers, the quiet rustling of papers, and the muted conversations of your team as they worked diligently on the myriad of projects you had taken on.

you stood in the center of it all, surrounded by the familiar chaos, yet your mind was already elsewhere, lost in the labyrinth of ideas that always seemed to pull you in a hundred different directions. the morning light filtered through the large windows, casting a warm glow over the space, but you barely noticed, too engrossed in the task at hand—a script that demanded your attention, characters that needed your voice to bring them to life.

“hey, boss,” a voice broke through your concentration, and you looked up to see one of your team members standing at the door, a hesitant smile on her face. “got a minute?” you sighed, setting the script down on the cluttered table and running a hand through your hair. “barely,” you replied with a weary smile. “i’m buried under a mountain of work, but go on. what’s up?”

the team member exchanged glances with the others in the room, a silent communication passing between them before she stepped further into the studio. “we’ve got a new project for you,” she said, her tone careful, as if she was choosing her words with great precision. you raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued despite your earlier protest. “a new project?” you repeated, leaning back against the table and crossing your arms. “you know how swamped i am. i’ve got deadlines looming, scripts to revise, not to mention the festival coming up. i’m not sure i can take on anything else right now.”

“i know, i know,” she said quickly, holding up her hands in a placating gesture. “but this, this is something you can’t pass up. trust me.” your interest was definitely piqued now. she knew you well enough to understand that you didn’t take on just any project, especially when your plate was already full. if she was pushing this, it had to be something special. “alright,” you said slowly, eyeing her with a mixture of suspicion and intrigue. “what’s the project?”

she hesitated for just a moment, and you could see the flicker of something—concern, maybe—in her eyes before she spoke again. “it’s a documentary,” she began, choosing her words carefully. “about a famous actor, and his battle with cancer.”

her words hung in the air, heavy and unexpected. you blinked, trying to process what she had just said. it wasn’t the first time you’d been approached with a project like this—after all, your reputation as a filmmaker was built on your ability to tell stories that resonated deeply with people, stories that touched on the raw, human experiences of life. but something about this particular proposal struck a chord within you, a sense of déjà vu that you couldn’t quite shake.

“a documentary about an actor’s battle with cancer?” you repeated, your voice softer now, tinged with the gravity of the subject. “that’s certainly an interesting proposal.” there was a brief silence as your team watched you closely, gauging your reaction, waiting to see if you would take the bait. and how could you not? this was the kind of story that could change lives, that could bring hope to others in the same situation. it was the kind of story that needed to be told, and you knew you had the skills and the sensitivity to tell it in the way it deserved.

“so,” your team member continued, her voice a little more confident now, “what do you think? are you up for it?” you let out a slow breath, your mind already racing with the possibilities, the ideas that were starting to take shape. the weight of the project was immense, but it was also an opportunity—one that you knew you couldn’t walk away from. this was why you had become a filmmaker in the first place: to tell stories that mattered, stories that could make a difference.

you met her gaze, a resolve settling over you as you nodded. “yeah,” you said, your voice firm with decision. “i’m up for it. let’s do it.”

there was a collective sigh of relief from your team, and the tension in the room eased as smiles spread across their faces. “great,” she said, her smile wide and genuine. “i’ll set up the meeting as soon as possible. you won’t regret this.”

you nodded again, though your thoughts were already elsewhere, your mind drifting to the story you were about to embark on, the life you were about to explore and capture on film. there was something about this project that felt different, something that tugged at the edges of your consciousness, a sense that this was more than just another film—it was a story that was somehow personal, though you couldn’t quite place why.

the house was quiet, an eerie stillness filling the space as taeyong stood in the center of his living room. the sun had dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows that danced across the walls, their movements gentle and unassuming. the room was warm, lit by the soft glow of the fireplace, its flames crackling quietly, adding a touch of life to the otherwise somber atmosphere.

his gaze was distant, his thoughts miles away, lost in the labyrinth of memories and the weight of the present. he had always been a man who carried his burdens silently, his struggles hidden behind a charming smile and a confident demeanor. but tonight, there was a heaviness to him, a sense of finality that clung to the air, making the room feel smaller, suffocating.

mark stood by his side, his eyes filled with concern as he watched his boss, his friend, grapple with the silent battle he had been waging for months now. taeyong’s health had been declining slowly, the cancer spreading with a relentless determination, yet he had never once allowed it to break him. he had continued to work, to smile, to laugh as if everything was fine. but mark knew better. he could see the toll it was taking on him, the exhaustion that was starting to seep into his bones, the way his eyes seemed dimmer, less vibrant.

“are you alright?” mark’s voice was soft, hesitant, as if he was afraid to disturb the fragile peace that hung in the air. taeyong didn’t turn to look at him, his eyes still fixed on the flames that danced before him. “never been better,” he replied, his tone light, almost nonchalant. but there was an edge to his voice, a hint of something darker that he couldn’t quite mask.

mark’s brow furrowed, a frown tugging at his lips as he tried to make sense of his words. he had always admired taeyong’s ability to stay positive, to find the silver lining in even the darkest of situations, but this—this felt different. there was something unsettling about the way he spoke, as if he had accepted his fate, as if he was ready to let go.

“the cancer,” taeyong continued, his voice calm, almost detached, “despite its slow murder, is a good chance for my career to reach its peak.”

mark’s heart clenched at the words, a cold chill running down his spine. how could he say such a thing? how could he talk about his own death with such casual indifference? mark shook his head, trying to push the thought away, trying to ignore the fear that was beginning to coil in his chest.

“boss,” mark began, his voice trembling slightly, but he quickly caught himself, forcing a steadiness he didn’t feel. “don’t say that. you’re going to make it. you’ll beat this.” taeyong didn’t respond, his silence heavy, filled with unspoken thoughts and unacknowledged fears. he stepped away from the fireplace, his feet moving almost instinctively towards the mantle where several framed photographs were arranged neatly, each one a snapshot of a moment in time, a piece of his past carefully preserved behind glass.

he paused in front of the mantle, his eyes scanning the photos, memories flooding his mind as he took in the images—his parents, his friends, moments of triumph and joy. but there was one photograph that drew his attention, one that seemed to pull him in with a force he couldn’t resist. it was a picture of you and him, taken years ago when the world seemed so much simpler, so full of promise.

you were both smiling in the photo, your eyes bright with laughter, your arm looped through his as if you were afraid to let go. it was a candid shot, one taken during a summer festival, the two of you surrounded by the vibrant colors of the fair, the warmth of the day captured in the curve of your lips and the softness of your gaze. taeyong’s fingers reached out, brushing lightly against the glass, tracing the outline of your face, the curve of your smile, as if by touching the image, he could somehow bring you back, relive that moment just once more. there was a sadness in his eyes now, a longing that he couldn’t quite put into words.

mark watched him in silence, his heart aching for his best friend, for the man who had once been so full of life and energy, who had always faced the world with an unbreakable spirit. he could see the pain that he was trying so hard to hide, the sorrow that he kept locked away, refusing to let it show, refusing to let it consume him. “you’re going to make it,” mark repeated, his voice barely above a whisper, as if saying the words quietly would make them true, would somehow protect taeyong from the cruel hand that fate had dealt him.

his hand stilled on the photograph, his gaze lingering on your face, on the memory of what you had once been to each other. there was so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to tell you, but the words were caught in his throat, trapped by the knowledge that it was too late, that those moments were gone, that the life he had envisioned for himself, for the two of you, had slipped through his fingers like sand.

“smile for me,” he whispered to the photo, the words so quiet that they barely reached mark’s ears. it was a request, a plea for something that he could no longer have, for the joy that had been taken from him, for the love that he had lost.

the morning sun filtered through the sheer curtains of your apartment, casting a soft, golden light across the room. you sat at the edge of your bed, your fingers idly twisting the delicate silver chain that hung around your neck. the pendant, a simple charm that had once meant the world to you, was cool against your skin, a reminder of a time long past.

today was a day you had been preparing for, though you hadn’t known it. a part of you had been waiting for this moment, whether consciously or not. you had been told this was a career-defining opportunity, a project that could cement your place in the industry. but as you sat there, staring at your reflection in the mirror, you couldn’t help but feel the tight knot of anxiety in your stomach, the unease that had been building ever since you first heard the name of the actor you were about to meet.

“focus,” you whispered to yourself, your voice barely more than a breath. you had come so far, had worked so hard to get here. this was your moment. you were a successful filmmaker, your documentaries praised for their depth, their emotional resonance. you had built a career on capturing the raw, unfiltered truth of human experience. and yet, the truth of what you were feeling now was something you weren’t sure you were ready to face.

you stood and walked over to the wardrobe, pulling out a simple, yet elegant, outfit. something professional, but not too formal—a reminder that while this was work, it was also personal, far more personal than anything you had ever done before. as you dressed, you went over the plan in your mind, rehearsing the questions you wanted to ask, the tone you wanted to set. you had to be calm, composed, professional. but above all, you had to be respectful. this was someone’s life, someone’s struggle that you were about to document. you needed to handle it with the care and sensitivity it deserved.

you inhaled deeply, trying to steady the trembling in your hands. “it’s just another project,” you told yourself, though the words felt hollow, like a mantra you didn’t quite believe. you shook your head, pushing the thoughts away, focusing instead on the task at hand. this was about the work, about telling a story that needed to be told.

when you arrived at the studio, your manager greeted you with a warm smile. “he’ll be here soon,” she assured you, her tone light, as if this were just another day at the office. you nodded, your expression calm, though inside, you were anything but. you tried to imagine how the conversation would go, the questions you would ask, the answers he might give. you wanted to make sure that you approached him with the respect he deserved, whoever he was. this wasn’t about you, or the past. this was about him, about his story.

you were so lost in thought that you didn’t hear the door open, didn’t notice the figure that walked into the room until it was too late. the air seemed to shift, the room growing heavier as if time itself had slowed. when you finally looked up, your breath caught in your throat. there he was, standing just a few feet away, his presence as commanding as ever. your heart pounded in your chest, your pulse racing as you took him in, the years that had passed between you falling away in an instant.

he hadn’t changed. not really. he was older, yes, his features more defined, more mature, but the essence of him was still the same. the same sharp eyes, the same confident posture, the same warmth in his smile that had once made you feel like you were the only person in the world. but now, that smile was tinged with something else, something sadder, something that spoke of battles fought and lost, of a life that had been lived, but not without cost. and then he saw you.

his gaze locked onto yours, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. the air between you was electric, charged with the weight of all that had been left unsaid, all the memories that had been buried but never forgotten. you saw the flicker of recognition in his eyes, the way his breath hitched, the way his expression softened, just for a moment, before he schooled his features back into that same calm, controlled mask he always wore.

but it was too late. you had seen it. the way his eyes had widened, the way his shoulders had tensed, the way his lips had parted, just slightly, as if he wanted to say something but didn’t know how. he hadn’t changed a bit, you thought, your heart aching with the realization. he was still the same boy you had fallen in love with all those years ago, still the same person who had once held your heart in his hands. but there was something else there now, something deeper, something that spoke of pain and loss and the kind of strength that could only come from enduring both.

for a moment, you didn’t know what to do, what to say. the room felt too small, the air too thick, and all you could do was stare at him, your mind racing, your emotions a whirlwind of confusion and longing and fear. taeyong, for his part, didn’t say anything either. he just stood there, his eyes locked on yours, as if he couldn’t quite believe that you were real, that after all these years, after everything that had happened, you were standing in front of him again.

and as you stood there, frozen in place, you couldn’t help but think how much prettier you had gotten. the years had been kind to you, had softened the edges of your beauty, had added a depth to your eyes, a grace to your movements that hadn’t been there before. he could see the strength in you, the resilience that had carried you through the years, through the pain and the loss and the heartache. but he also saw the vulnerability, the way your hands trembled just slightly, the way your breath hitched when you saw him. and it broke his heart, because he knew that he had put that there, that he was the reason you had learned to guard your heart so carefully, to protect yourself from the kind of pain that had once torn you apart.

the silence stretched on, thick and heavy, until it was finally broken by the soft clearing of a throat. your manager, sensing the tension, quickly made an excuse, something about giving you both some privacy, and with a few hurried words, she ushered the rest of the staff out of the room, leaving you and taeyong alone.

you sat across from him, the space between you feeling like an ocean of memories and emotions that neither of you could fully navigate. the small table in the center of the room was the only thing that separated you, yet it felt like a chasm. both of you were still stunned, your hearts beating in sync with the silence that enveloped the room.

you took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the words tumbled out before you could catch them. “of all people,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion, “i didn’t expect to see you.”

taeyong’s smile was small, almost wistful, as he looked at you. his eyes, though still bright with that familiar spark, held a depth of sorrow that hadn’t been there before. “it’s been a long time,” he replied, his voice softer than you remembered, tinged with something you couldn’t quite place. the pieces began to click in your mind, the realization slowly dawning on you as you recalled the brief your team had given you—the documentary about an actor’s battle with cancer. the words had seemed almost abstract then, just another story to tell, but now, with taeyong sitting in front of you, they took on a weight that made your heart swell with a mixture of pain and empathy. he was the actor. he was the one fighting for his life.

his smile grew a little, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “you’ve gotten prettier,” he said, his voice carrying a note of admiration, but also of something unspoken, a sadness that lingered in the air between you. you couldn’t help the sad smile that tugged at your lips as you responded, “you look as good as ever.” but even as you said it, you noticed the subtle changes in him, the way his clothes seemed to hang just a little too loosely on his frame, the pallor of his skin, the slight tremor in his hands that he tried to hide.

he tilted his head slightly, studying you with those same piercing eyes that had once seen right through you, had once made you feel like you were the only person in the world who mattered. “how’ve you been?” he asked, his voice gentle, as if he was afraid of the answer. you hesitated, your heart constricting in your chest as memories of the past few years flashed through your mind. “it’s been rough,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. the loss of your sister, the breakup that had shattered your heart, the long, lonely nights spent trying to piece yourself back together—it all came rushing back in a wave of emotion that threatened to overwhelm you.

“and you?” you asked, your voice trembling with the weight of your concern, though you already knew the answer. “how have you been?”

taeyong’s smile faltered, and for a moment, you saw the truth written on his face—the exhaustion, the pain, the fight he was barely holding onto. “i’ve seen better days,” he confessed, his voice tinged with a resignation that made your heart ache. it was only then that you truly saw him, really saw him—the fragility in his posture, the way his shoulders slumped slightly as if carrying the weight of the world, the way his skin seemed almost translucent in the harsh lighting of the room. he looked like a shadow of the person you once knew, a ghost of the man who had once stood so tall, so strong. the sight of him, so frail, so vulnerable, sent a pang of sorrow through you that you couldn’t suppress.

your vision blurred as tears welled up in your eyes, and you struggled to keep them at bay. “i leave, and you get sick on me,” you murmured, your voice cracking with the effort to keep your emotions in check. “how’s that fair?”

taeyong’s smile was sad, a reflection of the pain he saw in your eyes. he reached out, his hand hovering over the table as if he wanted to comfort you, but then he hesitated, pulling back slightly. “don’t worry about me,” he said softly, his voice carrying a gentle reassurance that only made the tears in your eyes spill over. you wiped at your eyes, trying to compose yourself, but the overwhelming reality of the situation was too much to bear. the person who had once been your everything was now facing a battle you couldn’t even begin to fathom, and you felt utterly helpless.

he paused, his gaze fixed on you, as if he was memorizing every detail of your face, every expression, every flicker of emotion. “you have a documentary to work on,” he reminded you gently, his voice steady, though you could hear the strain beneath it. you nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat as you tried to push down the flood of emotions threatening to consume you. “yeah,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “i guess i do.”

but even as you said the words, you knew that this was more than just a project, more than just another film to add to your portfolio. this was taeyong’s story, his life, and the thought of capturing something so personal, so painful, filled you with a sense of dread you couldn’t shake.

he smiled again, that same sad, knowing smile, as if he could read every thought that crossed your mind. “it’s okay,” he said, his voice soothing. “we’ll get through this. together.” the word “together” hung in the air between you, a reminder of all that had been lost, but also of all that still remained. despite everything, despite the years that had passed and the pain that had followed, there was still something between you, something that time and distance hadn’t been able to erase.

taeyong glanced at the clock on the wall, the faint ticking echoing in the quiet room. the moment stretched out, heavy with unspoken words and lingering emotions. you could feel the time slipping away, each second pulling him further from you. he began to rise slowly, his movements careful and deliberate, as if he was mindful of every breath he took.

his eyes flickered to yours, and you caught the briefest glimpse of hesitation, a flicker of something deeper that he quickly masked with a soft smile. you knew he was about to leave, and the thought sent a ripple of panic through you—a fear that this might be the last time you'd have him this close, the last time you could reach out and touch the memories that still bound you together.

before you could stop yourself, the words tumbled out, desperate and unguarded. “would you like to discuss the details over coffee?” he paused, his eyes widening slightly as he took in your request. for a moment, you thought he might refuse, that the careful distance he was trying to maintain would hold, keeping the fragile walls between you intact. but then, his smile softened, melting into something genuine, something warm that reminded you of the boy you once knew.

“i’d love to,” he murmured, his voice tender, as if the mere act of agreeing to your offer was a kindness you couldn’t fully comprehend. his eyes, now shining with a mix of nostalgia and affection, locked onto yours, and in that moment, the distance between you seemed to shrink just a little.

together, you left the room, the tension easing with each step as the familiarity of your presence beside him settled into something more comfortable, more natural. the hallway outside was dimly lit, the muted colors adding a softness to the surroundings that matched the quiet emotions hanging between you. you walked in silence, neither of you needing to fill the space with idle chatter. it wasn’t long before you found a small, cozy coffee shop tucked away on a quiet street corner, its warm glow inviting you both in from the cool evening air. the bell above the door jingled softly as you entered, the sound somehow grounding you in the moment.

taeyong held the door open for you, his eyes never leaving yours as you stepped inside. the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee enveloped you, mingling with the faint scent of pastries and the low hum of quiet conversation from the few patrons scattered throughout the shop. the space was intimate, with dark wood tables and soft lighting that cast a gentle, golden hue over everything. it was the kind of place that felt like a secret, a hidden gem where time seemed to slow down.

he gestured toward a corner table by the window, where the light from a single candle flickered, casting delicate shadows on the polished wood. you nodded, making your way over to the table, the soft cushion of the chair sinking slightly under your weight as you sat down. he followed suit, his movements unhurried, as if savoring the simplicity of the moment. as he took the seat across from you, the candlelight caught the edges of his features, highlighting the sharp lines of his jaw and the soft curve of his lips. he looked at you, and for a moment, it felt as though the years between you had melted away, leaving only the two of you, here and now.

when the waitress came to take your order, you hesitated, unsure if he would remember. but before you could speak, taeyong smiled up at her, his expression calm and certain. “two caramel macchiatos,” he said, his voice gentle but firm. “one with extra foam, the other with just a hint of cinnamon on top.”

your breath caught in your throat as you stared at him, the familiarity of the order sending a rush of warmth through you. he still remembered. after all these years, after all the distance that had grown between you, he remembered your favorite coffee, right down to the smallest detail. the waitress nodded, scribbling down the order before disappearing behind the counter. for a moment, you just looked at him, your heart swelling with a bittersweet kind of joy. the fact that he remembered something so trivial, something you had always considered your little indulgence, felt like a small miracle in the vastness of everything that had changed.

he met your gaze, his eyes reflecting the flickering candlelight, and he smiled—a real, unguarded smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes and softened the lines of his face. “some things you just don’t forget,” he murmured, his voice carrying a quiet sincerity that wrapped around your heart like a comforting embrace. the words hung in the air between you, a gentle reminder of the connection you once shared. the silence that followed wasn’t heavy or uncomfortable, but rather, it was filled with a kind of understanding, an acknowledgment of all the things that had been left unsaid over the years.

when the drinks arrived, his smile widened as he slid yours across the table, the extra foam creating a delicate swirl in the amber liquid. you wrapped your hands around the warm cup, letting the heat seep into your skin, grounding you in the present moment.

the first sip was familiar, comforting, and you couldn’t help the small sigh of contentment that escaped your lips. he watched you with an expression of quiet satisfaction, as if your enjoyment of something so simple brought him a sense of peace. for a while, the two of you simply sipped your coffee, the world outside the window blurring into the background as the evening darkened. you talked about small things—work, mutual acquaintances, the latest films—but the conversation flowed easily, naturally, as though no time had passed since you last sat together like this.

but underneath the casual conversation, there was a current of deeper emotion, an unspoken acknowledgment of the elephant in the room. you could feel it in the way his gaze occasionally lingered on you, as if he was trying to memorize every detail of your face, every subtle shift in your expression. eventually, the conversation quieted, and the silence that followed was different—more charged, more significant. his eyes softened as he looked at you, and he reached across the table, his fingers brushing lightly against yours.

“i missed this,” he admitted softly, his voice almost a whisper, as if the words were too fragile to be spoken aloud. his thumb traced a gentle line across the back of your hand, the touch sending a shiver down your spine. you looked down at your intertwined fingers, the sight so familiar, so right, that it made your chest ache with a longing you hadn’t realized you were still holding onto. “i did too,” you whispered back, your voice trembling with the weight of the truth behind the words.

the warmth of his hand was a balm against the coldness that had settled in your heart over the years, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, the chasm between you could be bridged. that somehow, despite everything, you could find your way back to the place where you had once been so close. as you sat there, the candlelight casting soft shadows on the walls, you realized that this moment—this simple, quiet moment—was more precious than anything you could have imagined. it was a reminder that no matter how much time had passed, no matter how much had changed, there was still something between you. something worth holding onto.

the coffee shop door swung shut behind you, the faint chime of the bell ringing in your ears as you and taeyong stepped out into the cool night air. the evening had settled in fully now, the sky a deep canvas of indigo, speckled with stars that flickered faintly against the darkness. you shivered slightly, though whether from the chill or from the weight of everything unspoken between you, you couldn’t tell.

he walked beside you, his hands tucked into the pockets of his coat, his breath forming small clouds in the cold air. the silence between you was thick with the lingering warmth of your time together, but also with the unshakable reality that this moment was coming to an end. the streets were quiet, the usual bustle of the city muted as if the world itself had paused to allow you these last few moments together.

when you reached the corner where you would part ways, taeyong stopped and turned to face you. the soft glow of a nearby streetlamp cast a halo of light around him, illuminating the sharp planes of his face, the softness in his eyes that he hadn’t quite hidden from you tonight. he seemed to hesitate, his gaze searching yours for something—perhaps the words he didn’t know how to say, or the strength to hold back what he truly felt.

“thank you,” he finally said, his voice low and sincere. his eyes never left yours, and you could see the depth of his gratitude, the silent plea that you understood how much tonight had meant to him. “for everything. for the coffee, for listening, for just being here.”

you nodded, the lump in your throat making it impossible to speak. you wanted to say so much—to tell him how much you had missed this, how much you wished things could be different, how much you still cared—but the words felt too heavy, too vulnerable to voice. instead, you just stood there, your heart aching with the knowledge that you were once again saying goodbye to the boy who had once meant everything to you.

he smiled, a sad, bittersweet curve of his lips that made your chest tighten painfully. “i'll see you tomorrow,” he murmured, his eyes holding yours for a long moment, as if trying to convey all the things he couldn’t bring himself to say out loud. “take care,” you whispered back, your voice barely audible over the sound of your own heartbeat, which seemed to echo loudly in the quiet night.

he took a step back, hesitated, then stepped forward again and wrapped his arms around you in a tight, warm embrace. you closed your eyes, sinking into the familiar comfort of his arms, letting yourself hold on for just a little bit longer. the scent of his cologne, the warmth of his body against yours—it all felt so heartbreakingly familiar, and yet so distant, as if this moment was something you were meant to remember, not live.

when he finally pulled away, you felt the loss acutely, as if a part of you had been torn away with him. he offered you one last smile, one last lingering look, before turning and walking away, his figure slowly disappearing into the darkness of the night. you watched him go, your heart heavy with the realization that you didn’t know when—or if—you would ever see him again.

once he was out of sight, you finally turned and started the walk home. the streets were empty, save for the occasional car passing by, the world around you quiet and still. your footsteps echoed softly against the pavement, the only sound accompanying the whirlwind of thoughts racing through your mind.

by the time you reached your front door, your hands were trembling. you fumbled with the keys, the cold metal slipping between your fingers as you tried to fit the key into the lock. it took longer than it should have, but finally, the door clicked open, and you stepped inside. the warmth of your home greeted you, but it did nothing to chase away the cold that had settled deep within you. the silence here was different—heavier, more oppressive. it pressed down on you as you closed the door behind you, the finality of it ringing in your ears.

you took a few steps into the living room, your eyes scanning the familiar space without really seeing it. everything felt surreal, as if you were moving through a dream, one where you were painfully aware of how it would end. and then, as if the weight of it all had finally become too much, your knees buckled, and you sank to the floor. the tears came suddenly, without warning, spilling down your cheeks in hot, uncontrollable waves. you pressed your hands to your face, trying to stifle the sobs that tore from your throat, but it was no use. the dam had broken, and there was no stopping the flood.

you cried for everything—for the boy who had once been your everything, for the man he had become, for the distance that had grown between you over the years, for the love that still lingered, unspoken and unresolved. you cried for the memories that haunted you, for the pain of seeing him again, for the fear that this might truly be the end. your sobs echoed through the empty room, the sound raw and anguished, a release of all the emotions you had been holding back for so long. the reality of his situation, the knowledge that he was facing something you couldn’t fix, something you couldn’t protect him from—it all came crashing down on you, overwhelming you with a grief so deep, you could hardly breathe.

you stayed like that for what felt like hours, curled up on the floor, your body wracked with sobs until there were no more tears left to cry. the exhaustion that followed was bone-deep, leaving you drained and empty, a hollow shell of yourself. eventually, the tears subsided, leaving only a dull ache in their wake. you were too tired to move, too tired to do anything but lay there, the coolness of the floor pressing against your cheek, grounding you in the present. your breathing slowed, your sobs fading into quiet, shaky breaths as you finally began to slip into the darkness of sleep.

the following morning, you woke with the remnants of your tears still damp on your cheeks, the pain of the previous night still a heavy presence in your heart. you moved through the motions of your morning routine with mechanical precision, the hollow weight of grief settling deep within you. despite your efforts to compose yourself, your eyes were still red and swollen, the telltale signs of a night spent in anguish.

when you arrived at the studio where you were scheduled to meet taeyong, you tried to ignore the way your reflection in the glass doors revealed the exhaustion etched into your features. the bustling energy of the set did little to mask your own emotional turmoil as you prepared for another day of filming. he was already there, looking remarkably composed in contrast to the chaotic state you felt inside. he greeted you with that familiar smile, but it faltered just slightly as he took in the sight of you. his eyes softened with concern, a depth of empathy in his gaze that was all too familiar.

“hey,” he said, his voice gentle as he approached you. “you look tired. surely, you haven’t been crying because of me?” you tried to muster a reassuring smile, but it felt strained and weak. “oh, no,” you said quickly, your voice betraying the lie. “i’ve just been restless. Iit’s nothing, really.”

his expression remained skeptical, but he chose not to press further. “if you say so,” he said, though his eyes lingered on you with a hint of worry. “let’s get started. we’ve got a lot to cover today.”

the morning passed in a blur of activity as you worked together, setting up the cameras, adjusting the lights, and preparing for the next segment of the documentary. he was, as always, a professional, his presence commanding and charismatic even in the face of the vulnerability he was about to share. but today, the process felt more poignant, more bittersweet. each moment of film captured was a moment of his life that was both being documented and slowly slipping away.

as you filmed, taeyong spoke candidly about his journey with cancer. his voice was steady, but beneath the surface, there was a current of raw emotion. “it started with just a bit of fatigue,” he recounted, his eyes distant as he looked at the camera. “then came the pain, and before i knew it, it was everywhere. the treatments, they’re brutal. sometimes, i wonder if the cure is worse than the disease.”

his words were measured, but each one carried the weight of his suffering. the room was filled with the soft hum of the camera, and every so often, taeyong would glance over at you, as if checking to see if you were still there, still listening. his stories were filled with moments of strength and despair, the two coexisting in a delicate balance that left you feeling both heartbroken and inspired.

at one point, he began to talk about the impact of his illness on his personal life. he spoke about the relationships that had faltered, the friends who had drifted away. “people say they want to be there for you,” he said, his voice trembling slightly. “but it’s hard to be around someone who’s constantly fighting a losing battle. i understand why they pull away. i wouldn’t want to be around me either.”

your eyes filled with tears as he spoke, and you struggled to maintain your composure. the pain in his voice, the vulnerability he exposed—it was all too much. the camera kept rolling, capturing the raw honesty of his words, but you could no longer hold back the tears. they spilled over, running down your cheeks as you tried to stifle the sobs that escaped from your throat.

taeyong noticed immediately. he paused, his gaze shifting from the camera to you, his expression a mix of concern and sadness. “are you okay?” he asked, his voice gentle but laced with worry. “do you need a break?” you shook your head, though your sobs were still audible. “i’m sorry,” you managed to say through your tears. “i didn’t mean to—”

he moved quickly to your side, his hand reaching out to touch your arm with a comforting warmth. “hey, it’s alright,” he said softly. “you don’t have to apologize. this is hard for me too. i understand.”

he took a deep breath, his own eyes shining with unshed tears. “i know it’s difficult,” he contonued, his voice cracking slightly. “i don’t have much time left, but i want to make the most of it. i want to spend the time i have left with you.” you looked up at him, your heart aching as you saw the sincerity in his eyes. “taeyong, i—”

he cut you off gently, placing a hand over yours. “let’s make a pact,” he said, his voice resolute despite the tears that glistened in his eyes. “let’s spend as much time together as we can. we’ll make these moments count.” you nodded, the weight of his words sinking deep into your heart. “i’d like that,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath.

he squeezed your hand reassuringly. “good,” he said, his own tears now flowing freely. “because i need you here with me. more than you know.” the two of you sat there for a while, holding each other in the quiet aftermath of your shared tears. the pain and sorrow were still present, but there was also a sense of connection, of understanding that transcended words. you both knew that the road ahead would be difficult, but in that moment, there was solace in the promise of being there for one another.

you and taeyong honored your pact with a quiet determination that bordered on sacred. the days became a collection of moments, each one more precious than the last, as you spent your time together creating memories that you both knew would one day be the echoes of what once was. the camera was your constant companion, always present but never intrusive, capturing the essence of taeyong as you saw him—strong, vulnerable, endlessly human.

in those weeks, you and him were inseparable, the lines between filmmaker and subject blurring until they no longer mattered. the only difference was the camera, but even that became an extension of your bond, a way to immortalize the fleeting beauty of each day you spent together.

you filmed everything—his quiet moments of introspection, the laughter you shared, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, the way he moved with a grace that belied the weight he carried. you wanted to capture it all, every nuance, every detail, so that when the time came, you would have these memories to hold onto. one afternoon, the two of you were sitting in a sun-drenched park, the warmth of the day wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. the camera rested on its tripod, focused on taeyong as he sat cross-legged on the grass, his head tilted back to catch the rays of the sun. his eyes were closed, a peaceful smile playing on his lips, and for a moment, he looked like he was simply soaking in the beauty of the world around him.

“do you ever wonder what people will remember about you?” he asked, his voice soft as he opened his eyes and turned to you. you lowered the camera, meeting his gaze. “all the time,” you admitted, your voice equally gentle. “but i’m more concerned with how i’ll remember you.”

he smiled, a bittersweet curve of his lips that tugged at your heart. “you’ll remember the good things, i hope,” he said, his tone light but with an undercurrent of sadness. “i’ll remember everything,” you replied, a lump forming in your throat. “every laugh, every tear, every moment we shared. i’ll remember the way you make the world seem brighter just by being in it.”

his eyes softened, and he reached out to take your hand in his. “you make it sound like i’m some kind of miracle,” he said, his voice laced with emotion. “you are,” you said, squeezing his hand gently. “you are to me.” the words hung between you, a quiet confession that neither of you needed to elaborate on. the depth of your connection was something that words could never fully capture, but in that moment, you both understood what you meant to each other.

as the weeks passed, you continued to film, capturing every detail of his life. there were moments when the reality of his situation would hit you both, the weight of it all pressing down like a heavy fog. but even in those moments, you found solace in each other, in the knowledge that you were not alone.

one evening, you found yourselves back in the studio, the room dimly lit by the soft glow of the overhead lights. taeyong was sitting in a chair, the camera focused on him as he spoke about his journey with cancer, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “i’ve come to terms with it,” he said, his eyes distant as he looked into the camera. “i know that my time is limited, but i’m not afraid anymore. i’ve lived a good life, and i’ve been lucky to have people who love me. that’s more than i could have ever asked for.”

you stood behind the camera, your heart aching as you listened to his words. there was a calmness in his voice, a sense of acceptance that both comforted and devastated you. but then, something shifted inside you, a desire to show the world not just the man sitting in front of the camera, but the way you saw him—the way you loved him.

without a word, you turned the camera around, adjusting the focus until it was pointed at yourself. taeyong watched you with a curious expression, his head tilted slightly as he tried to understand what you were doing. “i want everyone to see you the way i do,” you said, your voice trembling slightly as you looked into the lens. “i want them to see the man who’s strong and brave, but also the man who’s gentle and kind. i want them to see you through my eyes.”

his expression softened, his eyes filling with unshed tears as he understood the depth of your words. “you’re going to make me cry,” he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. you gave him a small, tearful smile, your heart pounding in your chest. “maybe it’s time we both let it out,” you said softly.

and then, before you could say anything more, taeyong reached out and gently cupped your face in his hands. his touch was tender, his fingers warm against your skin as he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. the kiss was soft, sweet, and filled with a quiet desperation, as if he was trying to pour all the love he had left into that one moment. you kissed him back, your tears mingling with his as the camera captured it all—the love, the sadness, the overwhelming beauty of two souls connected in a way that transcended words.

when you finally pulled away, you were both crying, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to catch your breath. the camera continued to roll, documenting the raw, unfiltered emotions that spilled from your hearts. “i love you,” he whispered, his voice thick with tears. “i don’t know how much time i have left, but I know i want to spend every second of it with you.”

“i love you too,” you replied, your voice breaking as you spoke the words that had been trapped inside you for so long. “and i’ll be here, right by your side, for as long as you need me.” and when the time came, when the camera was finally turned off and the lights dimmed, you knew that you had done everything you could to show the world the man you loved. the man who had changed your life, who had filled your days with a love so profound that it would linger in your heart long after the film had ended.

the days grew shorter, the light of the sun slipping through the curtains with less intensity as taeyong’s condition deteriorated. the once vibrant and hopeful man you knew was becoming increasingly elusive, his memory fading like the last echoes of a song. it was heartbreaking to witness the gradual erosion of his past, the slow unraveling of the threads that once held his identity together.

yet, even as his memory faltered, one truth remained steadfast—his love for you. it was as if, amidst the fog of confusion, the warmth of his feelings for you was a constant flame that refused to be extinguished. but with each passing day, even this seemed to be on the brink of slipping away.

one afternoon, you found yourself in the kitchen, preparing a meal with a tenderness that mirrored the affection you felt for him. the aroma of the food filled the small apartment, a comforting presence amidst the anxiety that hung in the air. you meticulously arranged the plate, hoping that a familiar taste might bring him some solace.

when you entered the room with the plate of food, taeyong was sitting in his armchair, staring vacantly at the wall. his eyes were distant, his once bright gaze now clouded with confusion. you placed the plate on the small table beside him and gently took his hand in yours. “taeyong,” you said softly, trying to catch his attention. “i made your favorite. i thought it might help you feel a bit better.”

he looked at you, but there was a moment of hesitation, a clouded recognition that struggled to pierce through the haze. his brow furrowed, and for a second, it seemed like he was trying to grasp at a fleeting memory. “i—i’m sorry,” he said, his voice trembling. “i’m trying to remember.”

you could feel the sting of tears behind your eyes as you knelt beside him, your heart breaking at the sight of his struggle. “it’s okay,” you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. “you don’t have to remember everything. just know that i’m here.” he reached for the plate, his movements slow and uncertain. as he took a bite, you watched him with a mixture of hope and sadness. he chewed slowly, his face reflecting the effort it took to recognize the taste.

with a mouthful of food, he looked at you, a tear slipping down his cheek. “i remember,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “i remember, the taste of your cooking.”

the words hit you like a wave, a bittersweet reminder of the depth of your connection. you nodded, unable to speak as the tears streamed down your face. taeyong continued to eat, each bite accompanied by a flicker of recognition that was as precious as it was painful.

he swallowed hard, his eyes locked on yours, and with a tremor in his voice, he said, “i know your name. i do. it’s...” he faltered, the name on the tip of his tongue slipping away once more. you squeezed his hand gently, your own tears falling freely. “it’s (y/n),” you whispered.

he nodded, a small, grateful smile tugging at his lips. “yes,” he said through his tears. “(y/n).”

you held his hand tightly, the warmth of his grasp a comforting anchor amidst the storm of emotions. as he continued to eat, his tears mixed with the food, his sobs muffled by the bite of the meal. the sight of him, struggling to hold onto the fragments of his memory while still reaching out to you, was both heart-wrenching and beautiful. the camera, positioned in the corner of the room, captured the scene with an eerie silence, documenting the raw, unfiltered moments of love and loss. each frame told a story of devotion amidst the sorrow, a testament to the bond that remained even as everything else seemed to fade.

“i love you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible but carrying the weight of everything he felt. and as you nodded, your own tears still falling, you knew that no matter what else he might forget, this one truth would remain. “i love you too, taeyong,” you whispered back, your voice filled with all the emotion you couldn’t put into words.

the days seemed to blend into one another, each moment weighed down by taeyong’s increasingly distant demeanor. it had become more pronounced recently—he would lose focus mid-sentence, his gaze would drift off into the distance, and he often seemed to be fighting to recall things that once came so easily to him. the sight of his struggle was an unbearable reminder of how fleeting memories could be, and it left you with a deep-seated ache in your chest.

you had been planning this trip for some time, hoping that a change of scenery might help revive his spirits, and today seemed like the right moment to take action. as you looked at him, sitting in the living room with a distant expression, you took a deep breath and gently broached the subject.

“i think we should go on a trip,” you said softly, trying to sound casual despite the turmoil in your heart. “a change of pace might do us both some good.” he looked up from where he had been absentmindedly tracing patterns on the arm of his chair. “a trip?” he echoed, his voice tinged with curiosity and something else—perhaps a flicker of hope.

you nodded, a small, encouraging smile on your lips. “back to seoul. i thought it might be nice to revisit some places we used to go. what do you think?” a faint smile touched his lips, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “seoul sounds good,” he said quietly. “i’d like that.”

the journey back was a quiet one, filled with moments of introspective silence as the cityscape rolled by outside the car window. taeyong’s hand rested on his lap, and you kept your gaze fixed on the road ahead, doing your best to manage the mix of anticipation and anxiety that churned within you.

as you arrived in seoul, the city seemed to envelop you both in its familiar embrace. the streets were alive with the hum of activity, the vibrant buzz of the city a stark contrast to the somber mood that had settled over taeyong. you drove slowly, making your way to a park you both had cherished during your youth.

the park came into view, and you could see the large, welcoming expanse of green surrounded by towering trees. you parked the car and took his hand, gently guiding him out and toward the entrance. his steps were hesitant at first, but as you led him along the familiar path, you could see a flicker of recognition in his eyes.

the park was just as you remembered—an oasis of tranquility amidst the bustling city, its paths winding through lush greenery and blooming flowers. you guided him to a bench beneath a grand old oak tree, its branches stretching out like welcoming arms. the sun filtered through the leaves, casting a dappled shadow on the ground.

you sat down beside him, your heart pounding as you pulled out your camera, ready to capture the moment. “do you remember this place?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady. he looked around, his eyes roaming the landscape with a mixture of confusion and dawning comprehension. “i think so,” he said slowly, his voice tentative. “it feels familiar.”

you smiled encouragingly, urging him to take it all in. “we used to come here all the time. we’d sit here and talk for hours. this was one of our favorite spots.” the transformation was gradual but undeniable. as taeyong took in his surroundings, a wave of recognition seemed to wash over him. his eyes grew wider, and you saw the struggle as he fought to connect the fragments of memory that were beginning to surface.

a tremor of emotion passed through him as he began to recall the days spent in this very park—the laughter, the conversations, the dreams you had shared. “i remember,” he said softly, a mixture of awe and sorrow in his voice. “i remember coming here with you. we’d sit here and talk, about everything.”

you nodded, tears welling up in your eyes as you watched him. “yes,” you whispered. “we did. and i wanted to bring you back here, because this place means so much to both of us.” he reached out, taking your hand in his, and for a moment, it was as if time had folded itself back upon itself. his touch was tender, filled with a longing that echoed the depth of his emotions. he looked at you with an expression that was both familiar and poignant.

“i’ve missed this,” he said, his voice breaking. “i’ve missed us.” you squeezed his hand, feeling a mixture of relief and heartache. “i’ve missed us too,” you replied, your voice trembling.

as you continued filming, capturing the raw and beautiful reality of the moment, his emotions seemed to overflow. he stood up slowly, his gaze locked with yours, and wrapped his arms around you. you were caught off guard by the intensity of his embrace, but you melted into it, holding him tightly. he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours in a kiss that was both tender and filled with a bittersweet intensity. the kiss was a silent testament to all the love you had shared, all the memories that you both cherished, and the reality of the present moment.

when he pulled back, his eyes were glistening with tears, and you could see the depth of his emotions reflected in his gaze. “thank you,” he whispered, his voice filled with a heartfelt gratitude. “thank you for bringing me here.” you nodded, unable to speak through the lump in your throat. Instead, you continued filming, letting the camera capture the poignancy of the moment—the way his eyes shone with love and the way you clung to each other amidst the memories and emotions that surrounded you.

the days seemed to bring a renewed sense of hope, a fragile light that flickered more brightly with each passing moment. taeyong's health appeared to be stabilizing, and the improvement, though modest, filled both of you with a cautious optimism. the treatments had begun to take effect, and his spirits were visibly lifted. he even began to joke about the future, something that had seemed almost impossible just weeks before.

the film project, which had started as a painful exploration of his battle with cancer, had come to an end. with it wrapped up, you decided it was time for the two of you to watch it together, to relive the journey and see how far you had come. you felt a mix of anticipation and anxiety as you prepared the playback.

you set up the projector in the cozy living room, dimming the lights and arranging the comfortable cushions on the floor. taeyong sat beside you, his presence a comforting anchor as you both settled in to review the film. the screen flickered to life, and the first images began to play.

as the film unfolded, you watched every moment with a mixture of tears and a wistful smile. each frame was a testament to the love and pain you had shared, the highs and lows of the journey that had brought you closer together. the scenes of his struggle, his strength, and the tender moments between you both played out before your eyes. the footage captured his vulnerability, his laughter, and the quiet moments of reflection.

his face was a canvas of emotions as he watched the film, his expression shifting from sadness to nostalgia, and then to a gentle smile. he leaned his head against your shoulder, seeking comfort in your presence as the film continued. you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, a small solace in the midst of the emotional whirlwind.

you turned to look at him, only to find his eyes closed, his face serene yet pale. the sight of him resting so peacefully, so vulnerably, sent a pang of anxiety through your heart. you reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from his forehead, hoping to provide him with some comfort.

as the film reached its climax, taeyong opened his eyes slowly, meeting your gaze with a faint, bittersweet smile. the change in him was stark; his face looked more drawn, his breaths more labored. the realization of what was happening hit you with a force that left you breathless. his once-hopeful demeanor was now overshadowed by a profound weakness.

“smile for me,” he whispered, his voice barely audible but filled with a tender request.

tears welled up in your eyes as you struggled to maintain your composure. you managed a trembling smile, forcing through the waves of sorrow that threatened to overtake you. the smile you gave him was full of love, a desperate attempt to hold onto the beauty of the moment even as the reality of his condition loomed over you.

a tear slipped down taeyong’s cheek as he closed his eyes again, leaning his head on your shoulder with a quiet resignation. the sight of his tear, so vulnerable and raw, broke something within you. you wrapped your arms around him, holding him close, trying to offer whatever comfort you could.

through your own tears, you whispered, “you’ll wake up, taeyong. we’ll see each other tomorrow.”

you clung to the hope that somehow, despite everything, you would get another chance to share a moment, to hear his laugh again, to hold him close. but as you looked at his pale, still form, you knew deep down that this was the end. the light in his eyes was fading, his breaths coming slower and more shallow.

the film continued to play softly in the background, the images a stark contrast to the stillness between you. you felt the weight of the moment, the enormity of the farewell that was unfolding. his breathing grew even more labored, and his grip on you loosened. his eyes remained closed, a final tear slipping from the corner of his eye as he succumbed to the darkness that had been slowly encroaching upon him. you held him close, your own tears flowing freely, your heart breaking with the finality of the situation.

the room seemed to grow colder, the warmth of his presence slipping away. you could feel the heavy silence settling around you, punctuated only by the soft hum of the film projector. you held him tightly, your tears mingling with his as you whispered to him, your voice breaking with sorrow. you had fulfilled his final wish. you had given him a smile to remember.

✧.*

a/n: i'm ngl i cried writing this bye

therapeutic (테라퓨틱) — lee taeyong (이태용)

✧.* 18+

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✧.*

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

taeyong is a sub and i will die on this hill ngl!!

LEE TAEYONG led a double life, one that he was well aware of, one that he was absolutely proud of. on stage, he was a beast. he made sure to emphasize his charisma, the energy he radiated as he danced and rapped. he made sure to perform, to put on a show. he held himself together, his composure strung by threaded lies that made those who watched him perform believe that he was a force not to be reckoned with. it was exactly what he was good at, it was his job to put on a show.

when the lights were dimmed and the cameras turned off, that was when he let his true colors show. it was a gradual process, baby steps that eased those around him into the light of his personality. when he wasn’t performing, he was giddy. smiling with his members like a little kid, or entertaining his fans during his lives. it was a way for everybody to dip their toes into the water, to get a glimpse of what taeyong was really like. however, despite those glimpses, nobody would get to see him at his realest. nobody but you.

he was able to perform in front of everybody, just not in front of you. no, it was different with you. he was raw, vulnerable. instead of towering, he crumbled, he was completely and utterly at your full disposal. you could do whatever you wanted to him and he would take it. in fact, he would beg for more, that was how much he trusted you. he knew you could look into his soul and recognize his most twisted, sick thoughts, and still love him the same. it was exactly what you were good at.

“please,” he whimpered, his voice shaking with every breath he took. “hurts so good.” he was a mess, he always was, yet he managed to look perfect. in your eyes, he was always perfect. his pale, porcelain skin was glazed with sweat and spit, his lips red and swollen from being kissed by you and chewed raw by him, his eyes were glazed with the same tears that stained his cheeks, and his fingers wrapped around the stained bedsheets beneath his naked, bruised body. yes, he was absolutely perfect.

you cooed at the sight of him as you worked your fist, jacking him off at a ridiculously fast pace as more tears slid down his cheeks. “you want me to stop, tae?” your tone was condescending, low and mean, but he couldn't control the way it made his cock twitch in your hand. he knew it, and you did too. “want me to stop when you’re so close?”

there were no lies told, he was close, on the brink of cumming. again, for the fourth time in a row. he wasn’t sure how much more he could take, but he wanted to take as much as possible for you. he was willing to stain the sheets a fourth time and let his mind shut off for a few seconds if it meant you’d be pleased with him. “no,” he whimpered, his trembling hands wiping away the stray tears before latching onto your wrists. “i can take it.” it was a lie, if the way his thighs quivered were any indication, but you knew you could coax one more out of him.

“that’s a good boy, so good for me, yeah?” you cooed before spitting some more on the tip of his dick, smearing it all over and mixing it with the precum that had oozed out a while ago. if the way you praised him wasn’t enough to send him towards the edge, the way you spat on him definitely was. he chewed at his lip to bite back a moan as he bucked his hips into your fist, desperately chasing the high he was so afraid of. “so needy, thought you couldn't take it anymore.”

he shook his head as he clutched the bedsheets, knuckles whitening as he held onto the still slippery sheets. “i can take it,” he repeated softly. the sheets were slick with his cum, alongside your juices that had come together. you reached over with your free hand and ran it alongside his chest, the feather-like touch sending shivers down his spine. you smiled at the feedback, running your fingers alongside his nipples just to hear his sweet little gasps before pinching them ever so softly.

his mouth hung open at the sensation, spit trickling down his chin as he continued to buck his hips, so close to cumming. you noticed the way his fingers probed at the wet sheets, a smile gracing your face at the sight. “got your fingers dirty from the mess we made, yeah?” he nodded weakly as he traced the sticky mess. “clean your fingers, baby. can you do that?” it was over for him, absolutely over. he nodded once more as he brought his fingers to his lips, sticky with your arousal and his seed. it wasn’t gross to him, it never was. he was quick to comply, wrapping his bruised lips around them and taking them whole as he sucked the sweetness off.

the sight only encouraged you to show less mercy, your eyes darkening as you fisted his cock harder, your thumb coming up to probe the tip of his hard, red dick. your other hand remained steady on his chest, toying with his nipples as you leaned forward to make a bigger mess of him. his eyes widened as you attached your lips to his balls, gently suckling and probing at the sturdy flesh. he had opened his mouth to say something, but a silent scream fell from his lips. he saw white as he came, his entire body quivering under your touch. you didn't stop, not even as he shot ropes of sticky white for the fourth time, coating his stomach and the sheets with his seed once more.

tears streamed down his cheeks once again, sobs wracking his body from the overwhelming pleasure. you met his teary gaze as you finally brought yourself up, planting kisses all over his face. “don’t cry, baby, you did so good,” you assured him as you brushed away the sweaty strands of hair plastered to his forehead. he sniffled as you wiped his tears away, his face softening only for a second. he let himself calm down, savoring the moment while it lasted, until you spoke once more. “you can give me one more, can’t you?” of course he could, he always could.

Culture Things. [M]

Genre: Dystopian, AU, SMUT, non-idol, angst, fluff

Pairing: NCT x OC 

Warnings: None for this chapter <3 

Word count: 2.4k

Summary: Zennie’s dreams of entering the walls are finally coming true. But she is about to also inherit a group of men who all have one common goal in mind. 

A/N: Okayyyyy so I’ve been working on my ideas for this fic for a long time. My inspirations for this were this book called The Giver as well as the concept for NCT’s Universe. I think it was just so well thought out…. But anyways….. you all should know that this story will be pretty long. I’ll be updating whenever I can and the story could start a little slow~ Pls bare with me. Thank you so much to everyone who takes the time to read my stories and please don’t hesitate to leave comments and show love! <3 

Keep reading

Culture Things [M]

Genre: Dystopian, AU, SMUT, non-idol, angst, fluff

Pairing: NCT x OC

Warnings: None for this chapter <3

Word count: 3.07k

Summary: Zennie’s dreams of entering the walls are finally coming true. But she is about to also inherit a group of men who all have one common goal in mind.

A/N: Oh oh oh! I enjoyed writing this update because we get to see more of Zennie’s personality as she starts to grow more comfortable inside the walls~ I have actually told myself that I would try my best to update this story in a timely manner because it’s just such a good one. I love being able to incorporate all of the neos into one story because I feel like the number of members in the group, gives us so much more to work with. I am going through a transitional period in life rn but in the best way possible. It is has been nothing but great news since I started the journey. I am all set to have a hot girl summer and I hope everyone can also enjoy themselves this upcoming season <3 I appreciate all of you for reading and please leave feedback or just say hi. I love hearing from you~ 

Keep reading

Culture Things. [M]

Genre: Dystopian, AU, SMUT, non-idol, angst, fluff

Pairing: NCT x OC 

Warnings: Oral sex, bodily fluids, rough sex, multiple partners, unprotected sex, dirty talk, voyeurism, threesomes, thigh riding, spitting (don’t ask), fingering, anal  

Word count: 4.5k

Summary: Zennie’s dreams of entering the walls are finally coming true. But she is about to also inherit a group of men who all have one common goal in mind. 

A/N: Man....all I’m gonna say is I LOVE me a nice slow burn. And it is soooo fun writing all neos into one story. It’s like the possibilities for the characters are endless fr. But anywho, I started a new big girl job last week and it has been insane (in the best way possible!). I am currently excited for all of the NCT stuff coming up! Starting with TOLO!! <3 I have a feeling that teasers will drop soon!! And Johnny saying that they have been recording for NCT 127′s new album as well as NCT 2023!??! And Dream is also have a comeback soon?!? I LIVEEEEE. I am also sure wayv will be coming back soon! And I think NCT Tokyo is basically at our door. IDK. I just feel like this year will be a good year for NCT. 

But not to drag on...please enjoy this chapter! Like, reblog, and leave comments. But most of all, you should follow me so you won't miss the next update <3 Happy reading, grass people! 

3. 

Still upset about Sungchan, Zennie stepped out into the sunny day and made her way down a path. She didn’t care where it took her but she had a few hours to kill before she had to be at the Pillars. Jackson hadn’t answered his phone and Zennie knew better than to call her sister. She figured she’d do as Sungchan said and get more acquainted with the community.

“Excuse me, I think I deserve some alone time with you, too.” A bright and soft voice said from behind her as she was walking towards the park. She turned around and was face to face with Haechan.

“Oh hi!” Zennie said once she realized who it was. She remembered him from the night before. He was also one of the younger Neos and he had some kind of kiss cam going around. Zennie had found it amusing. He walked around the common area and kissed Neos on the cheek while recording for his daily vlog. Most of them just looked at him like he was insane and she remembered Mark actually pushing him away. But Haechan just walked off laughing. Probably because he already had the footage he wanted.

“Do you want to play with me?” He asked with a smile.

“Play?” Zennie asked. “Play what?”

Haechan grabbed her hand and intertwined their fingers. Zennie looked at him in shock but said nothing. She thought of the particular rule that Sungchan had mentioned and wondered why Haechan seemed to act as if it didn’t exist.

“Whatever you want.” Haechan said. “As long as it’s only me and you.”

Zennie was taken aback. He was the most bold. By far.

“You wanna play Uno?” She suggested. “It’s a card game.”

“A card game?!” Haechan asked? “Wow it is true that the rookies really enter and bring vintage things with them.”

Zennie didn’t know how to take that. “Vintage? Cards are considered vintage? Everyone plays Uno!” She said, getting defensive.

“Yeah if you don’t have 10G wifi.” Haechan said while rolling his eyes. “Come with me, I’ll show you something.”

10 fucking G. Zennie thought to herself. She thought it stopped at 5. Not inside the walls apparently.

She let Haechan drag her to the destination he had decided for both of them. They came to the front door of a dorm.

Zennie gulped. “Haechan.” She started to say. “I’m not sure if this is a good idea.”

“C’mon. I know you are going to enjoy it. You aren’t even giving me a chance.” He said whining and pouting.

“Well…okay.” Zennie said. And they stepped into his dorm.

Zennie immediately came to the realization that Neos had extremely different dorms than everyone else in the community. Their spaces were HUGE. And Czennie was way more talkative in their dorms. As soon as they walked in, Czennie chimed. “Haechan, you’re home. I’ve missed you.”

Zennie wanted to hurl.

“I’ve missed you too, Czennie.” Haechan said in a cheerful voice.

“Hello, Zennie.” Czennie said after a moment. “Please play kindly with Haechan.”

“Oh wow!” Zennie replied.

“I wanted to show you this.” Haechan stood up and opened up a digital box on his wall by spreading his thumb and pointer finger apart. “Czennie, add in a deck of Uno cards.” He said after he made the box big enough. It had grown to be about the same size as the entire wall. Suddenly both sides had a stack of cards.

“You can just tell Czennie when you’re ready to draw and she’ll do it for you.” Haechan said.

“But then she’s playing for me and I’m relying on her strategy rather than my own.” Zennie said.

“It’s completely randomized.” Haechan said with a shrug of the shoulders.

“But -” Zennie was cut off by Czennie’s chime. “Incoming call from Taeyong.”

“Oh shit.” Haechan said. He put a finger to his lips, signaling Zennie to be quiet.

“Answer.” He said.

“Haechan, please come to the Pillars. I’ll need you a little bit earlier today. I have an assignment for you.” Taeyong said, his voice taking space in the entire dorm.

Haechan immediately started to whine. “You always call me when you need someone to come in early. Why don’t you call Jeno?” He asked.

“Simple. I want you to come in. He has had his fair share of early days. Don’t worry.” Taeyong reassured Haechan. “Get here and get here soon.” He said sternly and then the call ended.

Haechan let his head drop and put a hand on his hip as he let out a sigh. “Our play date is going to have to wait.” He said with a small smile.

“I think it’s cute that you go whenever Taeyong calls.” Zennie said genuinely impressed.

Haechan let out a small laugh as Zennie stood up to head for the door.

“Zennie, wait! You have to give me a goodbye hug!” Haechan pulled Zennie into his arms and hugged her tightly. “I promise I will make it up to you.” He rubbed Zennie’s back, before finally releasing her.

“I’ll be waiting.” She waved goodbye and stepped back into the sunlight.

Well that was short-lived. Zennie thought to herself but still smiled to herself because although she wouldn’t admit it out loud, she found Haechan refreshing and fun.

She looked ahead and saw someone with a camera taking pictures of the summer sky. The person looked familiar but Zennie needed to get a little closer to confirm…

The person eventually faced her direction and made direct eye contact with her. Jaemin. It was Jaemin.

He smiled widely and started walking towards Zennie.

Her breath hitched once she remembered how their meeting went the night prior. There was something about him that made her slightly nervous. He kissed Zennie’s hand when he introduced himself and then went back to his table with Jeno and silently watched her for the remainder of the night. Zennie would periodically steal glances and she’d meet his eyes. But he said nothing.

She later forgot about him when Sungchan stepped into her view. Now she found herself face to face with Jaemin again. And she was anything but prepared.

“Hey.” He said, flashing a smile at Zennie. “This is such a nice surprise. I’ve been thinking about you.”

“Oh, you have?” Zennie asked.

“Yeah,  you’ve been on my mind since last night. No one warned me that you’d be this beautiful.” Jaemin bit his lip and looked at the Nikon camera in his hands.

“Oh.” Zennie said. “Oh.” Zennie didn’t understand what was going on. She had not one, not two, but three Neos in the span of 24 hours. Something told her Taeyong and Johnny would disapprove.

“I know you don’t have a fully open day, but spending some of your free time with me wouldn’t be the worst idea. How about we take some pictures?” He held his camera up and flashed another toothy grin. Zennie felt herself smile. Jaemin actually had a certain warmth to him. Maybe he was the one she should’ve latched on to instead of Sungchan.

“I would love to but I’m not wearing any makeup.” Zennie said, making a face at Jaemin.

“You do not need any makeup!” Jaemin said with widened eyes. “You are always pretty, Zennie!”

Zennie couldn’t help but laugh at his sudden outburst.

“Well, tell me how you really feel.” She said, placing a hand on her hip.

Jaemin brought his camera back up and snapped a picture of Zennie before she could say anything else. “Jaemin!” She gasped and watched Jaemin as he examined the picture. He didn’t seem to be fazed by Zennie’s reaction. Instead, he proceeded as if nothing happened.

“Let’s take more.” He said, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards a nearby garden. “Pose but try to make it look more natural than anything.”

Zennie didn’t know what else to do, so she just obeyed and let Jaemin take the pictures. He was very focused and seemed to genuinely be enjoying himself and Zennie felt she had no viable reason to take that away from him.

After about ten minutes, Jaemin seemed to have been satisfied, so he walked back to Zennie and started showing her the shots. She looked at them in silence and was pleasantly surprised at how they turned out. Jaemin was an amazing photographer. She’d never had shots like these, even with professional photographers.

“We aren’t quite done yet. Come with me.” He started walking without waiting for a response.

-

Back at the Pillars, Haechan was complaining to Johnny and Taeyong. “I just wanted to spend time with Zennie and you two got in the way.”

Johnny looked at Haechan with a soft smile. “There will be more opportunities. And I am sure she will understand.”

“Is that rule still a thing?” Haechan asked, still upset.

“It is still a thing and it will continue to be a thing.” Taeyong said while slowly twirling in his chair. “Haechan. I know it must be hard for you, but you will need to exercise a great deal of self control this time around.”

“I want her soooo bad.” Haechan whined.

Johnny walked up to Haechan and fixed his collar. “As do the rest of us.”

-

“Oh, this one is really nice.” Zennie said. She was sitting next to Jaemin on his floor as they were reviewing the pictures from earlier on one of the walls. Courtesy of Czennie, of course.

They sat very close to one another, letting their knees touch as they occasionally rubbed against each other.

They’d been at his dorm for over an hour but it was only twenty minutes ago that they had settled on the floor to start reviewing the pictures from their outing. Zennie had told herself she would continue to explore but after spending some more time with Jaemin, she realized she truly enjoyed his company. She learned that he was very good with numbers and was a hard worker. He also knew how to make a girl feel seen.

Everytime Zennie would speak, he’d stop whatever he was doing and give her his undivided attention. He made her feel as though everything she said was most important. His bright eyes would gleam and he would say nothing but only smile while watching Zennie speak.

Although Zennie wouldn’t admit, it made her knees weak.

“You’re a natural.” Jaemin said softly with his eyes still glued to the screen. He slowly turned to look at Zennie, letting his brown pools seep into her. He then moved closer and placed his chin on her shoulder.

“Yes?” Zennie said.

“You smell good.” He said cutely.

Zennie nervously laughed, but she didn’t attempt to remove him from her shoulder.

“Zennie…” Jaemin stood up and extended a hand to Zennie. “Follow me.” He said.

Zennie looked at Jaemin’s hand and then back to him. “Jaemin..” She said, still unsure.

“I’ll make you feel good. I promise.” He smiled and kept his hand out for Zennie to grab.

Fuck.  Zennie thought to herself. Jaemin had her right where he wanted her. They were alone. She was comfortable and she was needy. And he was damn near perfect. After a few seconds of having an inner battle within herself, Zennie placed her hand in Jaemin’s and stood up to face him.

“Jaemin, I don’t think we should do this.” Zennie said as a wave of guilt hit her.

“Tell me you don’t want me and I’ll stop.” Jaemin said, wrapping an arm around her waist and staring at her lips. He then brought his eyes back to Zennie’s just so he could see her flustered look.

“Adorable.” He said with a wide smile.

Zennie wanted to protest but she couldn’t. She wanted him. She wanted Sungchan too. But Sungchan wasn’t there. Jaemin was present and he was ready to give her what she wanted..

Zennie pushed all thoughts of Sungchan and his words out of her mind and let Jaemin press his lips onto hers. She kissed him back and could feel him smile in the kiss.

Jaemin slowly pulled away, searching for a reaction on Zennie’s face.

Zennie pouted and went in for another kiss but Jaemin stopped her. He put a finger to his lips and then spoke as soon as he could see that Zennie got the message.

“Czennie, sleep.” He said loudly. After a split second, a low chime sounded throughout the entire dorm.

Zennie gasped and broke away from Jaemin completely. “We can turn her off?!”

Jaemin chuckled but pulled Zennie back into his arms. “I’ll teach you about more things, once we’re out of bed.” He said directly into her ear.

“Are you sure you aren’t about to do something that could get you in a lot of trouble?” Zennie pulled away again and raised an eyebrow at Jaemin as he continued to stare at her with half closed eyes.

“I can handle whatever is coming.” He responded before licking his lips and kissing Zennie once more. Zennie wrapped her arms around his neck and sank into the kiss as the heat from his arms and chest spread throughout her body. “Let me just lock the door before-”

Then the door slid open and Jeno walked inside.

“I had to manually open the door, why is Czennie-” He stopped talking once he took in the scene.

Zennie waved meekly. “Hi.”

“No way are you actually this stupid.” He said to Jaemin, but with his eyes glued to Zennie’s.

“You should learn to knock.”Jaemin said, grabbing Zennie’s hand. Jeno looked at their intertwined fingers and laughed.

“Jaemin! Stop your game and send her off so she can start her schedules for the day.” He ran his fingers through his hair and stared at the pair. “You know…you are truly amazing. The biggest womanizer I’ve ever met but you always did so well with rules. Now look at you.”

Jaemin smiled and put his free hand up. “We aren’t doing anything we both don’t want to do.” He looked at Zennie and winked.

Oh, I’m never getting laid. Zennie rolled her eyes, and pulled her hand out of Jaemin’s.  She folded her arms and left as both Jaemin and Jeno’s set of eyes followed her.

“You’re just jealous because I was going to fuck her stupid and she was going to enjoy every second of it…and once again, nothing for you.” Jaemin scoffed as soon as the door shut.

“Well in the end, it’s just the two of us and a bottle of lotion, huh?” Jeno said, flashing a triumphant smile.

Afternoon rookies assemble in twenty minutes. The voice blared over the intercom. Zennie was still trying to make sense of Czennie and how she was so advanced and efficient. She smiled as she approached the entrance of the Pillars building. Her only win of the day. Because she was at Jaemin’s place, she was already close to the Pillars building so now she was early. So early that there was no greeter. Jungwoo wasn’t there and Zennie wondered if he’d show up in a few minutes if she waited.

The doors swung open on their own once Zennie was close enough and she made her way inside. The hallways were empty, so she figured she would try to catch Taeyong or Johnny before the other rookies arrived.

Just before Zennie reached the elevators, she heard a faint knocking sound coming from one of the rooms. So, naturally, she went to investigate. A door across the hall was left slightly ajar and the sound was coming from inside of that room. Zennie slowly walked closer, the sound growing louder. Then she heard heavy breathing and….moaning. After a few seconds, she got closer and heard audible words.

“Ah fuck, you’re creaming.” Zennie’s eyes widened. That was Mark. MARK WAS FUCKING IN THE PILLARS BUILDING. Zennie had to see this. Maybe even film for blackmail? There was absolutely no way this was allowed.

She pushed the door softly and slowly, but gasped as she lost her footing and landed in the room on all fours.

“Oh my god!” She said as she met Mark’s eyes as he was balls deep in some woman Zennie had never seen before.

The woman shrieked and Mark quickly pulled up his pants, trying his best to hide his very obvious boner.

“Zennie?!” He said, visibly shaken.

“I’m sorry, I need to go. I just heard a sound-I’m going upstairs now. Bye!” Without even waiting for an answer, Zennie ran out of the room and to the elevator.

-

Once the elevators opened, Zennie ran into Taeyong’s office and he looked up from his desk with a raised eyebrow. Zennie had almost forgotten how handsome he was during her time away from him. Almost.

“Is everything okay?” He stopped typing and stood from his chair. He was wearing glasses and was dressed rather casually. He looked tired. His eyes were a bit sunken in, his cheeks flushed, and his hair looked disheveled.

“I need to talk to you.” Zennie said, out of breath.

“Usually one would make an appointment for that.” Johnny said, as he appeared from around the corner. He was holding a book in his hands and he was also dressed casually and looked like he too, had missed a full night of sleep. But still, he looked like he could step into a magazine shoot.

Zennie, a person with poor sleeping habits herself, felt stuck. She hadn’t realized just how busy these two must be. Here they were, obviously sleep deprived and in less than fifteen minutes, they would have to deal with a room filled with rookies. Suddenly, her worries didn’t seem to be as big of a priority.

“I’m sorry, I just-”

“Please do not apologize.” Taeyong said in a calm voice. “We are here to make sure you are taken care of. Whatever you may need, Zennie.”

Johnny gave a small, tired smile but still nodded.

“No, it is okay.” Zennie shook her head. “I’m ready for schedules. That’s what is most important.”

“While we are happy to hear that, we only have one schedule for you today.” Johnny said before setting down the book in his hand. “Czennie, please download Zennie Pearl’s schedule for the day.”

“Of course, Johnny.” Czennie responded and not even a second later, Zennie heard her phone ping.

“Schedule share is now complete.” Czennie said.

Zennie read the words on her phone screen and was a bit confused.

“I’m sorry but there must be some kind of mistake.” She looked at the two men in front of her. “It says Dreamies from 3 to midnight.”

“Yeahhh..” Taeyong said. “It’s correct. I was able to speak with Jungwoo this morning. It’d be really beneficial for you if you spent your first few schedules working with them.”

“Health is a very important aspect of our culture. You aren’t healthy if you aren’t sleeping.” Johnny said, leaning against the wall.

“But what about you two? It’s obvious that you pull plenty of all nighters.” Zennie responded.

Taeyong and Johnny looked at each other and Johnny sighed.

But it was Taeyong who responded. “Zennie…We don’t actually pull plenty of all nighters.” He started. “ This is the first in a very long time. We are going to be leaving in the next few minutes.”

Leaving?!

“What about the rookies?” Zennie asked.

“Mark will be taking over for today.” Johnny replied with a shrug.

No fucking way. Zennie thought to herself. But it seemed her face and body language gave her feelings away because Taeyong made a puzzled face and tilted his head.

“Am I missing something here?” He asked.

“Nope! Nothing at all. Do I need to stay here? I mean I already got my schedule..” Zennie trailed off. She desperately needed to leave before she made an ass of herself.

“You can leave, Zennie. Enjoy your time with the Dreamies.” Taeyong said with a small smile. Despite the stress that decorated his face, he still managed to look the part of the most angelic being.

“Oh okay. Thank you. Bye.” Zennie waved and made her way back to the elevator.

Once the doors closed, Taeyong and Johnny looked at each other again. “Please tell me we made the right choice.” Taeyong said, biting a nail.

“I sure the fuck hope so.” Johnny responded, looking back at elevator doors again.

-

Zennie reached the Dreamies’ center and hesitated before going on. She even contemplated simply skipping out and going home. She could figure out an excuse after the fact. Too much had happened in one day and she had no idea what kind of work she would be doing with the “Dreamies”.

Zennie backed up and was about to turn to make a run for it, when the doors slid open.

A cute man with longer hair stood in front of Zennie. His jet black hair was the first thing Zennie noticed. Renjun. She felt her heart race become steady.

“Hey, are you okay? Czennie told me you were in front of the building but wouldn’t come in.” He said with a smile.

Oh, this AI bitch. Zennie mentally cursed but responded to Renjun with a warm tone.

“Oh it’s nothing, I’m just a little nervous.” She said, finally making her way inside.

“What exactly do you have to be nervous about?” A new voice chimed in from her left side. She turned to follow the voice and met Chenle’s unamused expression. “You have every Neo wrapped around your finger, including the two most important people on this site. Are you pretending or are you really that stupid?”

Zennie looked at Renjun, not sure how to respond to Chenle’s words.

“Well you don’t seem to be liking me that much.” She said with a hand on her hip.

“Sorry, I’m just smart. You are cute and smell like heaven but if any of what Taeyong said is true, I’m going to be keeping my distance. Us Neos are incredibly unstable.” He said, shaking his head.

There it was again. That word. Unstable.

“Chenle, what did Taeyong tell you? Renjun, do you know, too? What do you mean by unstable?” Zennie was determined to get some answers. She felt that this could be the perfect place to get more information. Clearly they had it.  Maybe even more than Sungchan could give.

“We won’t be telling you anything, Zennie. And not because we don’t want to. We just aren’t allowed to talk to you about it.” Renjun said calmly. His voice was soft and he seemed sincere.

Zennie only sighed and crossed her arms. Chenle smirked and continued on his way. He went down a hallway and disappeared through a door.

“Please follow me.” Renjun added. “We should get started.”

Zennie nodded and followed him down another hallway. The entire building was clean and extravagant. The floors were golden, the walls were white, and all Zennie could do was stare in awe.

They finally reached their destination and the doors slid open and Zennie and Renjun stepped into a white room.

A voice snickered from the side. Jeno appeared from a corner wearing his uniform. His hair was slicked back and he wore a white coat with a white button up and black slacks. The smirk on his face only added on to his perfect visual.

Zennie’s eye twitched as she remembered their encounter from about an hour before. He was an asshole and it didn’t help that he was attractive. She wanted to cry once she realized how long she was stuck with them. Until midnight. And doing what exactly?

“Well hello.” Jeno said, the smirk never leaving his face. “Today is just full of surprises, huh?”

“I guess.” Zennie said in a low voice, averting eye contact.

The doors slid open and Jaemin walked in with his eyes glued to the iPad in his hand. “Have you guys seen today’s file? You will never believe-” He looked up and froze when he saw Zennie. Then he gave a sly smile. “Zennie. My favorite girl. I am so happy you found your way back to me.”

“Ugh, dude.” Chenle said, coming around the same corner as Jeno. “Please, we are at work.”

“Has that ever stopped any of us before?” Jaemin raised an eyebrow and walked towards Zennie.

“Come on, I’ll show you around.” He reached for Zennie’s hand.

“The hell you are.” Renjun slapped his hand away. “She is already in the room that she needs to be in.”

Zennie looked at the room and felt as though she was in outer space. There were a few white chairs placed on a higher platform in the middle of the room and a control center, paired along with a massive screen where Zennie assumed Czennie showed all information. Then it suddenly clicked. She was the patient.

“There is no one else here.” She turned to Renjun, sensing he would give the most comforting response.

Renjun smiled sweetly and nodded. “Yes, Zennie.” He started to say. “I… well…. I think you have it figured out. Please don’t be scared. We would never do anything to hurt you.”  

“Unless you were to ask for it, of course.” Jeno said, putting his hands in pockets and leaning against a wall.

“Gross, man. Can you at least try to be decent?” Chenle spoke again, this time from a desk.

Renjun took Zennie’s hand and led her to one of the chairs. She sat down and Renjun pulled a lever at the bottom, flattening the chair into a bed. Zennie took a deep breath and looked at the fluorescent lights on the ceiling. “Just relax, okay?” Renjun said as he pulled a chair and sat beside Zennie. She nodded her head and closed her eyes.

“Hey, Czennie. Let’s get started with her scans.” Renjun said.

“Yes, Renjun. Scanning has commenced.”

Zennie  then heard lasers and assumed Czennie was scanning her face or maybe even her entire body.

What an angel. Zennie thought as she listened to Renjun direct Czennie with instructions. Please don’t leave me alone with these madmen.

“A few more minutes and we can look at what we need to tackle first.” He said softly, seeing that Zennie was finally relaxed.

“Okay.” Zennie said, fully trusting Renjun.

Suddenly Renjun grew silent and Zennie heard Czennie speak.

“All scans have been completed. Please direct your attention to the screens.” She said.

“Holy shit.” Zennie heard Jeno speak.

“No fucking way.” Chenle said after Jeno.

Zennie opened her eyes and sat up to look at everyone’s face. They all had a look of worry on their faces and Renjun walked up to the screen with a hand on his hip as he bit his bottom lip.

Zennie followed their eyes to the screen but couldn’t understand the codes on the screen. “What does this mean?” She asked in general. She would take a response from anyone. But none of them gave her a response.

“I think we should call Taeyong.” Jeno said.

“He said not to bother him unless it’s an emergency.” Jaemin said, raising a hand up to stop Jeno.

“This is an emergency.” Renjun and Chenle said in unison.

Culture Things. [M]

Genre: Dystopian, AU, SMUT, non-idol, angst, fluff

Pairing: NCT x OC 

Warnings: Oral sex, bodily fluids, rough sex, multiple partners, unprotected sex, dirty talk, voyeurism, threesomes, thigh riding, spitting (don’t ask), fingering, anal  

Word count: 4.5k

Summary: Zennie’s dreams of entering the walls are finally coming true. But she is about to also inherit a group of men who all have one common goal in mind. 

A/N: Man….all I’m gonna say is I LOVE me a nice slow burn. And it is soooo fun writing all neos into one story. It’s like the possibilities for the characters are endless fr. But anywho, I started a new big girl job last week and it has been insane (in the best way possible!). I am currently excited for all of the NCT stuff coming up! Starting with TOLO!! <3 I have a feeling that teasers will drop soon!! And Johnny saying that they have been recording for NCT 127′s new album as well as NCT 2023!??! And Dream is also have a comeback soon?!? I LIVEEEEE. I am also sure wayv will be coming back soon! And I think NCT Tokyo is basically at our door. IDK. I just feel like this year will be a good year for NCT. 

But not to drag on…please enjoy this chapter! Like, reblog, and leave comments. But most of all, you should follow me so you won’t miss the next update <3 Happy reading, grass people! 

Keep reading

We can stay like this forever | lee taeyong

pairing: taeyong x f.reader

genre: smut | romance | exes to lovers

wc: 1.4k

summary: you and taeyong broke up two months ago so you call him with one purpose in mind.

warnings: unprotected sex (don't), pet names (sweet, baby), pussy slapping, cumming inside... lmk if I forgot anything.

“You don’t have to give this back, you know?” 

“Yeah… but I want to. I need to,” you reply calmly. 

Taeyong looks at the box filled with tangible memorabilia of your time together. The time that surely was a highlight in his life. He was blissful and felt invincible with you. He was so in love–no, he is still in love. He just can’t put together how a silly argument ended up in you two breaking up. 

When you texted him to come over, he was hopeful. Were you willing to give him a second chance and get back together? All thoughts of his wish coming true evaporate when you greet him with that stupid box. He doesn’t want the box. He doesn’t need the box. His hoodies, letters, plushies… everything is yours. He is yours, even though you seem not to see it. 

“It’s good to see you, my sweet,” he smiles, his eyes seeking something in yours. Some type of sign that you are still you. Some type of sign that you might still maybe love him. 

You immediately close your eyes as soon as you hear my sweet leave his lips. It is indescribable what those two words do to you. You missed him so much, but he never called or showed up once you broke up. How could he want you back? You know you are not perfect, but the love you have for him makes you better. It makes you feel real and seen. Of course, that was when you were together. This is why you have to give everything back. It is just too much to have things reminding you of Taeyong. 

“Good to see you too,” your voice is soft, barely audible. You can’t look at him, you’re afraid you’d break and cry. 

Before Taeyong can break the awkward silence that followed, the rumble of thunder makes you jump. 

“Is it raining?” you ask, making your way to the window. 

Outside you can see how the weather’s changed. Grey-to-black clouds pour rain so heavily you can’t see much outside. You sigh and as you turn Taeyong is right there. His beautiful eyes stare right back at yours. 

“You scared me,” you laugh, attempting to clear the awkwardness. 

“I guess I should go… It was– a real pleasure seeing you, my sweet.” 

“You really like calling me that, don’t you?” 

Taeyong laughs, making you swoon. He has the loveliest laugh, you’ve always said so. 

“Of course,” he comes a bit closer. “You always will be my sweet.” 

“You can’t say that,” you shake your head. 

“Why not?” 

“What happens when you are dating someone else?” 

Silence. 

The truth is, you regret the words that came out of your mouth. Just thinking about it hurts so bad. 

“I don’t want to date anyone else,” he softly holds your hand, drawing circles with his thumb. 

Suddenly you can’t move, you can’t think, you can’t breathe. 

“Uh– I should probably go…” he continues. 

“No, wait! You can’t leave it’s pouring out there.” 

“You sure you want me to stay?” 

You nod. He shamelessly looks at your lips, making a silent prayer you would let him kiss him. Even if it is the last time he gets to kiss you. 

“Fuck, baby,” and you just throw your arms around his neck, hugging him so tight. 

“I miss you,” he whispers. 

So you kiss him. Your body goes against the voice inside your head that asks you to stop, you broke up. But the way he melts into you tells you to keep going. Taeyong’s arms hold you firmly against him, almost as if he is scared that you will change your mind and run away from him. 

He sucks on your bottom lip and you lose all sense of time. You should have never broken up, he is the light in your path of darkness. Removing your clothing you guide him to your bedroom, where you’ve shared countless nights of passion, long talks, and binge-watching TV. You gently push him onto the bed, his eyes spark as he can’t hide his excitement. 

“Is– is this okay?” he asks. 

“Yes,” your voice is almost a breathy moan. 

So Taeyong thanks the heavens and immediately latches his mouth to your right nipple sucking as his hands caress your body, worshipping it. You close your eyes, lost in his touch, his breathing, his praises. 

“I missed you so much, my sweet. You’re perfect. All I want is to make you feel good, make you never forget me.” 

“How could I ever?” 

You pull his hair and a low groan leaves his mouth. Smiling, he stops to kiss your thighs, all the way to your clothed core. He can smell your arousal and feel how wet you are for him, you haven’t changed a bit and he is glad. Two months without having you was being in hell. Your moans get louder as he licks your entrance on top of the soaking fabric of your panties. 

Done with the teasing, you pull them down. 

“Please, baby– fuck me. I need you so bad,” you cry. 

Taeyong wants to take his time with you, but he can leave that for round two if you let him. Right now he will give you whatever you want like it’s his life mission because it is. The way your lips kiss him makes his heart beat so fast he feels it will burst out of his chest. You help him get rid of his clothes and kiss his chest, making a stop on his chest tattoo that drives you so insane. 

“Show me how much you’ve missed me, baby.” 

“You have no idea, my sweet.” 

He positions you to face down on the mattress, ass up, granting him perfect access to your cunt. Slender fingers tease your hole as his other hand pumps his erection. As Taeyong enters you, pleasure course your entire body. This is the man of your dreams, your perfect pair, fucking you till your eyes roll back. His cock, wet in your arousal abuses your hole, again and again, his hands firm on your hips as he thrust into you, fast. He missed this feeling. You are so warm, so sweet, so perfect. 

“We were made for each other. Shit… you feel so good, so– incredible.” 

You moan in response your face weighing on the mattress. Taeyong put one of his hands down your clit and slapped hard he earns a muffled cry. 

“I wanted this so much… faster.” 

And he obeys. He obeys because anything that comes out of your mouth automatically is an order for him. He is doomed and he knows it, he is in love. And to be honest, he wouldn’t like it any other way. 

Beads of sweat drip off his forehead as he rams into you, eager to make you cum. When his fingers pinch your clit and start moving in circles, adding pressure to it, you lose all composure. You are crying, pleading, moaning his name. 

“Taeyong, Taeyong, Taeyong…” 

How pretty his name sounds coming from your mouth. His other hand moves to your shoulder and he pulls you upwards, your back colliding with his chest as he keeps fucking you, now hitting that spot inside you. You see stars, you are so close. 

Taeyong kisses your neck, sucking your sensitive spot he knows so damn well. 

“Baby, I’m so close… f-fuck–ah!” 

“Me too. Cum for me! I wanna hear you…”

With a few more thrusts his warm cums fills you as he cries in your ear after his release, triggering your orgasm. It’s so intense your head feels lighter than a feather and your legs tremble. Taeyong holds you near him or else you will fall. He kisses your temple and shoulders again and again. 

“My sweet, sweet girl…” he breathes in your ear as you both come down from your high. 

You find yourself between Taeyong’s arms, cuddling, eyes closed. The box you once planned to return is already forgotten in your living room. Not a word is spoken, is like time didn’t pass and you want to stay here until the end of time. 

“I never stopped loving you,” you confess, eyes still closed. 

Now he hugs you even tighter. 

“Me neither.” 

“Can we stay like this for a while? you ask. 

“We can stay like this forever…” he kisses your cheek.

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a/n: this is pure ✨fiction✨

but my love for this man ain't... ˜ masterlist