#nct taeyong x reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lebrookestore · 2 years

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for the record | l.ty

Pairing: Lee Taeyong x reader

Themes: strangers to lovers, rockstar! au, band! au, celebrity! au, journalist! reader, rockstar! taeyong, angst, fluff, slowburn, romance, very light comedy, PG-15; (moodboard)

Warnings: profanity, heavy ANGST, taeyong is a bit entitled at first, problematic paparazzi, kissing, food, alcohol consumption, drug use, a small mention of marijuana and use of it, smoking, lying, inaccurate depictions of the music and well as journalism industry, sexual innuendos, allusions to sex but nothing sexually explicit, suggestive

Word count: 51.4k

Summary: When you're presented with the opportunity to accompany the world’s hottest rock band, Cherry Bomb, on their latest tour for an article, you know it could be your chance at furthering your career and possibly acquiring a spot at the New York Times, every journalists dream. You strive to figure out the truth about all the rumours that seemed to hover around them, but you don’t anticipate are the extent of the lies involved, nor do you account for the charming front man.

Playlist: here

Notes from brooke: she’s finally here! and yes, on seeing that word count you can best believe that i am not just touching grass, but rolling around in it. this was supposed to be 25k but i sort of....got.....carried away....yEP!! it took four, almost five long months to write but i firmly can that it is one of the best things i have written and am very proud of it!! i worked harder on this fic than i have for any of my fics, so feedback would be greatly appreciated!! <3

You knew you shouldn’t have been eavesdropping. It was, in no way, professional.

“What do you mean he’s dropping out?” Johnny’s voice was just loud enough to reach your ears from where you stood outside his office, saving you from the embarrassment of having to press your ear against the door. The editor had the habit of being pretty loud when he was distressed or pissed off, and that little fact was currently working to your advantage well. You stood there, holding your notes and listening carefully to the one side of the conversation you were unintentionally privy to.

“Are you kidding me? It’s the biggest piece he’d ever get to work on,” Johnny hissed and you could almost imagine him getting up from his seat and pacing around the room. You had been working at The Link newspaper for around nine months now and had managed to pick up the smallest details about your co-workers, a habit of yours had often helped you many a time.

The fact that Johnny had called this a big piece didn’t sound like much- after all, this was Los Angeles. There was a story waiting for you at every turn and corner if you looked hard enough for it, with so many aspiring actors and young D-List starlets running around the place, falling head first into any trouble they could find as long as it got them their fifteen minutes of fame.

LA hadn’t been the place you had initially wanted to end up in, far from it actually, but it was a start, one that you had taken on valiantly. After all, everyone had to start somewhere, and your brilliant plan was to somehow make it out of the sandy beaches of California and to the concrete jungles of New York by any means possible.

There was silence for a little bit, and you found yourself biting down on your lower lip, wishing you had access to the other end. A little shuffling, and then a frustrated-sounded slew of cursing.

“Damnit Taeil, that album went platinum in almost every country. That article would have gotten Jungwoo a spot in the New York Times if he wanted! He’s a fucking fool for dropping out.”

And now your mind was racing because the NYT had been your dream ever since your senior year of high school. Journalism was everything you loved and breathed, the fact making itself known when you worked on a newsletter for your school that year and realized how much you truly enjoyed the work of it. Managing to get a job at The Link barely a few months after you graduated from University was a feat in itself, but you had always loved dreaming big.

It seemed like Johnny was now done with the call because nothing more was being said. Remembering what you were there for in the first place, you readjusted your notes and knocked on the door politely.

You were one of the younger journalists at the paper, which also meant that you had mostly been assigned the less….appealing articles to work on. Things that no one ever read, the little pieces that were just there on the paper for decoration almost, but you still gave them your all.

You also knew that you were capable of much more.

“Come in.”

The usual jovial lilt that Johnny’s voice held was gone, now replaced with resignment over something he had clearly tried his best to avoid happening. You had a pretty good idea of what was going on by this point but didn’t want to jump to conclusions. A good journalist always did their research first.

Pushing the door open, you walked up to his desk where he sat, and placed your notes down, glancing up to meet his eyes.

Johnny Suh, editor-in-chief of The Link, was your boss. Graduating from a prestigious college and landing the job almost immediately after came with its perks, one of them being working directly under someone so high ranking. You supposed the flipside of being so lucky were the shitty topics you had been given to write about.

One thing you wanted to make very clear during this meeting was that you were just as good as your older colleagues. The editor was a no-nonsense type of guy, as easy-going as he was firm, so you knew you didn’t have to put on any frills or fancies to catch his attention.

“The notes from my last article,” You informed him gesturing towards the file you had put down on his desk. After he nodded, you narrowed your eyes at him. “What was that about?”

“What was what about?”

“Your call with Mr Moon,” You prompted, taking a seat on the usually empty chairs opposite him to relieve your feet from standing on those stilettos that you wore to work. He raised a disapproving eyebrow.

“I don’t appreciate my calls being listened in on.”

“A good journalist has ears everywhere,” You countered smoothly, knowing just want to say to gain the advantage. Johnny sighed, somewhat impressed at how quickly you had managed to justify your actions even though they weren’t something he approved of. Although new, you had never been one to back down from a challenge, no matter what the task given to you was and he respected it.

Which was why he decided to tell you what the call was about, however risky that was. Stretching his arms out in front of him, he rested them on the mahogany desk in front of him and put your notes to the side, finally looking at you and the determined look on your face.

“Jungwoo dropped the most important article we could ever lay our hands on,” He stated bitterly, visibly annoyed by this fact. “Do you know of Cherry Bomb?”

A stupid question. Practically everyone knew who Cherry Bomb was even if they didn’t want to. The band had taken the world by storm from their very first album and held it by the neck throughout, even four years later, claiming their spot as the hottest band of the decade. You weren’t a die-hard fan by any means, but you indulged in listening to their music on occasion because they were admittedly fantastic.

The mention of an album from earlier made a little more sense now. You nodded, eager to know where this was going.

“They’re going on tour soon,” He continued, “Jungwoo’s task was to accompany them and write an article on it. It might not sound like much, but with the pull that they have, anything written about them is considered excellent. It could have made his career as a journalist, but the idiot decided to drop out.”

The information he just dropped was pure gold to you. You could agree on one thing- Jungwoo was a complete imbecile for letting something like this slip through his fingers, but you also loved him for it.

“Give it to me,” You offered immediately, sitting up straight in the uncomfortable chair. It was the opportunity of a lifetime in your eyes and there was no way in hell you weren’t going to jump.

“Come again?”

“Give the piece to me,” You repeated, crossing your arms over each other and leaning back. “The Cherry Bomb one, I can do it.”

He frowned, “I don’t think you’re ready for that.”

You grimaced, disguising it poorly as you shook your head, determined. “Yes I am, I’m young enough to fit right in on a tour, and since I’m so new, unassuming enough to get all the details.”

Your points were valid because people loved someone unknown and small enough to be manipulated, a front you could put up to truly extract the information you needed. He shut his eyes for a moment, thinking it over before shaking his head once again.

“Y/n, I think you’re extremely talented, but-”

“But what?” You didn’t let him finish, refusing to leave the office without landing the article. “With all due respect, sir, cut the crap. The things I’ve been working on are stupid and unimportant, the last article you assigned to me was about lines outside of stores.”

You almost wished that wasn’t true, but it was. Because of it, you had been subjected to waking up early and walking about the city, interviewing random people who decided to spend their morning hours waiting outside a store for some sort of product- whether that be a new release of shoes, tickets for some sort concert, or even the new Cherry Bomb album.

You also knew you were pushing it because, for the most part, you were very respectful and careful about how you spoke with your colleagues, especially your boss, but you wanted to make sure he knew you meant business. Jungwoo’s trash would be your treasure.

He studied the expression your wore on your face and it told him that you weren’t going to back down in the slightest. Pressing his tongue to the side of his cheek, he contemplated your proposition. It would certainly make things easier, he wouldn’t have to go through the trouble of telling Taeil to pick someone else. One less thing to worry about.

“There's just….one thing.”

You waited patiently, knowing from experience that people tended to give out more information if you stayed quiet. It was human tendency to want to fill a silence and you knew just how to take advantage of that.

“There seems to be a lot of dirt around the frontman of the band,” He drummed his fingers on his desk. “Lee Taeyong.”

“What type of dirt?”

“The type of dirt that the public love. Messy rumours and stories that everyone wants to know the truth behind. This piece isn’t so much about the tour and the band as it is about him.”

So that’s why this was so important. “An exposé?”

“Not exactly,” He clarified, “He’s been in quite a few scandals and they’ve been covered several times, but this piece is just to see if he’s improved and to get the truth behind it all. The good thing about it is that it doesn’t have to be anything too groundbreaking. It could be an article praising them for all I know and it would still do fantastic.”

The smile on your face widened even more. He was giving you information and that meant that you practically had this in the bag. This piece was yours, you just had to tip him over the edge to get a formal ‘yes’ from him. “I’ll write the best article you’ve ever seen.”

He adjusted his position in his seat, “You’ll be gone for months and will have to travel with them throughout the entire tour. Are you okay with that?”

“More than okay,” You assured him quickly. If anything, the prospect of being able to travel around the world only made you want this more. From what you had gathered, this was your chance at boosting your career and making a name for yourself in the journalism industry, inching closer and closer to your goal.

“Fine,” Johnny relented, “I honestly don’t have the time to think about this any further, so I’m trusting you won’t let me down. It’s gonna be a big step up from lines.”

You scoffed, crossing your legs over each other and drumming your fingers on the side of the spinning chair you sat in. This wasn’t what you had come to his office for at all, but you were, by no means, complaining. On the contrary, you were ecstatic, because you knew that this was exactly what you needed.

“Once I’m done, you won’t even think about making me write about lines ever again.”

From the very moment Taeyong walked through the door, he could tell that Irene was beyond pissed.

It wasn’t a new sight to him, he had been subjected to an angry manager many, many times before, almost too many to count. Since he was so used to it, he didn’t pay her too much attention as he plopped down on the couch in the studio, lazily resting his arm on the armrest and propping his legs up on the table in front of it.

“He lives,” Yuta muttered under his breath, the slightest smile on his face. Taeyong let his eyes scan the room, noting that each one of the members of his band- and his best friends- were present. He had known most of them since they were wide-eyed teenagers in high school with big dreams. Now, even four years later, there was not another group of people he would rather be stuck with.

Yuta was the drummer and a damn good one at that, the type of person who could make a beat out of almost anything he was presented with. He felt the most comfortable when he was sitting behind his drums, drumsticks in hand.

“Were we having a party I wasn’t told about?”

The don’t-care-ish tone of his voice very visibly didn’t sit well with Irene, whose glare only grew in intensity. She slapped a tabloid of sorts on the wall beside her, lips pinched in a mixture of exasperation and anger.

“This is not a party, Taeyong. With your track record, you should never be allowed into one.” Her words were clipped and swift, but she had always been one to literally and figuratively rip the bandaid off. Unaffected, he pouted.

“Aw, what did I do now?” The moment he said that she held that very tabloid up for the entire band to squint at, and he could just about make out the headline of it.

“You,” she said the pronoun with such distaste that Taeyong had half a mind to act offended, but he knew better than that. If anything, he probably deserved the treatment she was dishing out to him right now. “Went and got caught by the paps a few nights ago, drunk as fuck with another girl hanging off your arm like candy.”

His eyes focused on the poorly taken picture that was plastered all over the front of the tabloid. As terrible as the photograph was, one thing that fame had taught him was that if you had fans, you could be recognized from just about anything, and it was definitely him on there.

He didn’t even remember the girl's name. Pity.

“You called us all here for this?” Doyoung cut through the silence, a disgruntled look on his face. Doyoung was on keys (synthesizer to be exact), but was somewhat of a prodigy, being able to master almost any instrument he put his mind to and could probably be his own band if he wanted to. He was also what you’d refer to as the responsible one of the group, the one with the least drama and frankly and no interest in it at all.

The other two in the band were Mark and Jeno, two guitarists that were excellent in their own right. Jeno was the youngest, and the only one that hadn’t known the rest since their high school days. They met the boy at the building of their label, and he blended in so well with the rest of the band that having him be a part of it had been a no-brainer decision to make.

“I was just having some fun,” Taeyong protested, “All the other guys do it as well.”

“Yes Taeyong, but they aren’t the front of the group, neither are they the media's favourite portrayal of a fuckboy, even if you live up to that title better than you should.” She snipped agitatedly, slapping the tabloid against the wall, prompting him to sigh.

That was what he was. Lee Taeyong, frontman, and the bassist. He was also one of the main vocalists, though the entire band did the singing as a team.

When he started out at the tender age of nineteen, he never expected to be thrust into the limelight as he had been. Managing to land the record deal when they were nothing more than wide-eyed kids with a dream was a miracle in itself, but what seemed like an overnight success was overwhelming.

He had taken on the role of something of a leader within the band, but it had come with its own set of rules. Being the face of the group meant that he received more attention than the others, something he had never been pleased about due to situations like this, but he had gotten used to it.

So what if he was known as the fuckboy?

He was the fuckboy that had several shiny awards under his name, and he was fine with owning it.

Enter Irene, their manager who had been with the group since day one. Now, she pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration, carefully so that her pointed nude-coloured acrylic nails wouldn’t dig into her perfect skin.

“Tour is coming up,” She warned sternly, “For once could you put on your big boy pants and behave? You have to be on your best behaviour.”

“Irene,” He drawled, “When am I not an angel?”

“Your halo looks a lot like devil horns from here,” She grumbled, shutting her eyes and mentally counting to ten. Despite all her complaining about their wild lifestyle, he knew she loved being with them too much to quit working for them. Taeyong grinned unabashedly, sinking further into the plush cushioning of the sofa to get comfortable.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Look, I mean it when I say I need you guys to be good on tour,” She explained. “It’s all of your chance of clearing your name to an extent. A journalist is accompanying us this time and one article that doesn’t talk about any of you being drunk or running out of a bar with yet another woman would be lovely for your image. We work our asses off to keep you out of shit so the least you could do is take advantage of this.”

She was speaking to the entire group, but Taeyong knew it was a message specifically for him. He was no stranger to the speech and was frankly pretty bored of it at this point. He always loved the spotlight, he had been made to be on stage and in the studio, but if there was one thing he despised about it all was how unfair the media could be.

Cherry Bomb was only four- almost five years old, but its popularity came with its drawbacks, one they had to get used to early on. Their lives weren’t normal in the slightest, but after experiencing it daily, it turned into the new normal.

“A journalist?” Jeno asked sceptically, eyebrows knitted in confusion. “I thought we kept the press off our asses during tour.”

The world tour, one to promote their latest album, Cherry On Top, and the most highly anticipated one of theirs yet. This was an important year for them, with the tour and the hope for Grammy nominations, everything had to go perfectly.

“Typically- yes- but Renjun and I both agree that this could be good for the band since it’s more of an observational piece.” She mentioned their publicist, who was miraculously somehow even more hot-headed than she was. Another person Taeyong was used to upsetting on the daily because it was their publicist's job to keep his fan image intact, and he always managed to disrupt that.

Irene glanced at him, a wary look on her face. “So please Taeyong, this is important, especially after what….has transpired.”

She didn’t have to elaborate at all because he knew exactly what she was talking about, all of them did. It brought a bitter taste to his tongue, but he swallowed it, forcing himself to give her his usual lazy smile.

“Of course, I’ll be good,” He promised, making a show of putting his hand over his heart as if he was swearing on it, dragging his index finger over the area in a crossing motion even though he knew well enough that it didn’t hold much weight, “I’ll let someone else have a chance to lash out. Give Doyoung a turn to be freaky.”

In response, the ever-serious Doyoung threw one of the pillows at him. Taeyong yelped, managing to catch it right in time before it fell to the floor, digging his fingers into the foam pillow to grip it better. The manager shook her head, tired of their childish antics.

Even with the nonchalant attitude he possessed and his quick wit, he wasn’t stupid, not in the slightest. The latest thing he had been accused of was not something to laugh about, but he had become pretty good at ignoring the paparazzi that he knew he’d manage to get out of it easily enough- he had to.

For the band.

It started to hit you that this was really happening when you found yourself standing alone in one of the tour buses.

There were four of them in total, one for the band, the manager, the publicist and you and three for the staff. You had arrived early to get a feel for everything and settle in so that you weren’t completely lost. All the buses were parked as of now, waiting for their occupants to arrive.

In the few weeks that you had to prepare, you had done intensive research. You knew each of their names and their roles in the band, you had listened to some of their music to familiarise yourself with it, making sure that you weren’t going to be tagging along like some sort of wide-eyed kid.

You were a professional, and you were going to make sure you seemed like one.

“Who the hell are you?”

You whipped your head around to see a man standing there with a perplexed look on his face. He was staring at you like you were some sort of criminal who had broken into the vehicle, and so to dispute this possible theory, you cleared your throat to introduce yourself.

“I’m doing a piece for The Link? The journalist?” You prompted in hopes that it would jog his memory as you walked over and held your hand out. “Y/n L/n.”

Recognition flashed through his eyes as he took your hand and shook it firmly, nodding. “Right, Huang Renjun, I’m Cherry Bombs publicist. Sorry about that, but catching a crazed fan who managed to sneak in the last tour is enough to get someone paranoid.”

Jesus Christ. You shook your head, a little surprised at that tidbit of new information. You weren’t a part of the majority who did listen to the band religiously, so you didn’t know much about the fan culture at all, but from the looks of it, it seemed to be pretty crazed.

“Don’t worry about it,” You assured him, giving him a warm smile so that he’d feel more at ease around you. In the back of your mind, you made a mental note to try and keep him out of your way as much as possible, because a publicist's job, along with the managers, is to make sure that their client looks good at any given moment.

For this reason alone, it was quite unfortunate that you had been assigned to share a living space with them over the next five months. Your job was to get the most authentic version of the truth that you possibly could, while theirs was to project the perfect image. The contradiction was going to be tough to work around, but you would somehow have to make it work.

You were only accompanying them for the North American leg of the tour, which meant that after those five months they would be leaving for another three months to finish the rest of the shows.

“Well, you’re pretty early,” He observed, scanning the inside of the bus. “The guys have just arrived with Irene, so if you want to meet them you can go do that now.”

You thanked him politely and left the bus, giving him time to settle in by himself. Since it was the first time you would be meeting them, there was no reason to take your phone with you to record any sort of interview (something you’d have to do during the course of the tour). For now, all you needed to do was get acquainted with the people you would be dealing with.

Walking out to the front, you saw a group of people conversing. The woman was instructing the rest of them- presumably staff- where they had to go. Off to her side was an even smaller group of just four people, but you knew who they were the moment you set your eyes on them.

Cherry Bomb.

Sucking in a deep breath, you psyched yourself up for what was to come. When the larger group dispersed, you decided that it would be a good time to finally meet your topic.

The heels of your boots clicked on the gravelled floor as you made your way over, rehearsing what you were going to say in your head. Confidence was another thing that was crucial in your line of work since most of the time, journalists had to put themselves in the thick of their work. Experience what they were writing upfront just like you were supposed to.

Other than your love for writing, it was your love for travel that pulled you into journalism. Growing up in a middle-class family meant that you had lived a fairly comfortable life with a roof over your head and a warm plate of food on the table, but it didn’t include the extravagant holidays abroad that you had seen all your friends go on. You were stuck at home every summer while they experienced a part of the world that they had never been to before. You knew that some articles would require you to travel, which meant that you could do what you truly loved.

Like now. This tour was possibly the best thing that could have ever happened to you because it was five whole months of travelling. Granted, you wouldn’t be able to fully enjoy every single destination, but it was better than nothing at all.

The woman turned around and spotted you, asking a question before you even had the chance to speak. “Are you the journalist?”

“Pleased to meet you, I am,” You continued as smoothly as you could, even though she had completely thrown you off by being so abrupt. Clearly, she was much more prepared than the publicist. Looking away from her, you eyed the boys that stood beside her before realizing something.

One was missing.

“Right well, this is Doyoung, Yuta, Jeno, Mark, and I would introduce you to Taeyong, but he’s late.” The unamused tone of voice that she used told you that it wasn’t the first time the mentioned man had been late, but you brushed past it, smiling courteously at the other members that were present at that moment.

You introduced yourself once again, noting each one of them. Of course, you knew who they were already, you had made sure to memorize who was who so you’d have an easier time working.

For world-famous rockstars, they weren’t really all that intimidating. One of them- Jeno you remembered- returned your smile cheerfully, his eyes turning into little crescents of joy. It was honestly kind of cute and the others greeted you in the same way, welcoming. The politeness of your simper almost turned into something genuine, but that would have been far too much for a first encounter.

Doyoung’s expression, however polite, was doused in scrutiny towards you, but you couldn’t blame him. It was warranted.

Stay professional, you repeated silently to yourself. As lovely as they might be, this is a job, you’re not here to make friends. They knew you were supposed to be there, they were used to the attention.

Still, maybe making friends with them would be a good idea. If there was a level of trust between all of you, you’d effectively be able to get much more out of them-

“Must you always start without me?”

Your thoughts scattered almost immediately at the sound of the new voice like someone had thrown them out into the wind before you could even protest against it. The smooth, low tone of it went straight to your stomach and no one had ever been able to do that before.

You looked to your side to see who it belonged to, lips parting when you noticed the new face.

Dark messy hair that had a hint of red in it and intense eyes, crimson lips that had no doubt had thousands of teenage girls around the globe wishing they could press a kiss on them, he stood there in all his glory. He donned a jacket over a simple tee shirt and jeans, but there was just something about the way he carried himself that made it seem like more, one of those rare, enigmatic specimens of humankind.

Lee Taeyong.

And god, he was exceptionally beautiful. The music videos you had watched didn’t do him justice.

You didn’t even need the woman to tell you who he was, because you knew him very well, or at the very least, you knew most of the surface-level stuff. While you had done your digging into all the members, it was him who you had focused the most upon due to the tip Johnny had given you. He was the actual reason you were here.

“We wouldn’t if you showed up on time,” She scowled. He seemed completely unfazed at this. “Cut me some slack Irene, I left on time. There was traffic, including a swarm of fans outside my house.” He grimaced at that last bit, like the fresh memory of it was too much for him.

You had to take back your previous statement of them not being intimidating because Taeyong definitely was. His dark brown irises slowly swept over the group, deliberately even, and came to rest on you. A cocky smile rested on those lips of his and intrigue entered his eyes as he studied you.

Most of your intel was public knowledge. His name, the fact that he was twenty-three and had been in the spotlight since he was just nineteen, which was by normal standards, barely a freshman in college. Of course, nothing about him was normal at all, but it was the comparison you had chosen to remember the fact.

And then there were the more interesting things. All the scandals he had managed to get pulled into, the way his name seemed to ghost every major celebrity slip up. From being caught on the regular with a new supposedly unsuspecting girl wrapped around his little finger to being caught drunk in Vegas, it was all too amusing to read.

Then you found something that put all of those measly scandals to shame. This? This was the real deal.

Superstar Lee Taeyong Sleeping His Way to the Top?

From the moment you spotted the article, you knew you had to know more. It wasn’t something that could be easily brushed to the side like the other rumours, it was a serious accusation that could potentially involve a nasty court case if it rippled out of control. Fortunately, there wasn’t much evidence for now.

It seemed like the writer of it knew this very well because they had remained anonymous. Worse, it had gotten a lot of attention from major media outlets and all of them started pointing out how quickly the band had managed to gain popularity and hit the charts. It seemed to fall into place perfectly.

But you knew how the media worked, you knew that anyone and everyone would pounce on the chance to sell a story, and this wasn’t any different. You knew that the real thing- the truth- was often much simpler to explain. Most of the time, it was a far cry from what was being thrown around by tabloids and newspapers.

And you were going to figure out exactly that.

“And you are?” He inquired after a minute or so, the weight of his gaze had you rooted to the spot, cheeks warming. Even though this was the third time that day you would be introducing yourself, something about it felt a little different. Part of you was dying to find out if he was like they said, the other part wanted to know the person beneath that.

“Y/n,” You said slowly, “I’m a journalist doing a piece about the band and the tour.”

That infuriatingly attractive smirk on his face never faltered as he nodded. “Lovely to meet you, I hope we’re interesting enough.”

He hadn’t even bothered to tell you who he was like he somehow knew you had come prepared. You pressed your lips together, caught off guard with how self-assured he was, but also very intrigued.

“I’m sure you are.”

Somehow, Taeyong was everything you had expected and nothing like it at all.

The first night consisted of travelling, shouts on the bus you were staying on and music being played. You made small talk with the band, mostly Jeno, and sometimes with Renjun, but mostly watched from the sidelines. You joined them for dinner and laughed under your breath at the bickering between Doyoung and Taeyong and the sarcastic comment Yuta made about them in the passing.

You were surprisingly comfortable around all of them and your polite smile turned into a genuine one throughout the evening. Part of you was glad about that, the entire ordeal would be much easier to deal with if you weren’t constantly guarded.

It was the day of the first show of the Cherry On Top tour, the Chicago one, which was where you had woken up that day on the bus. You had never seen a more efficient set of staff as they quickly worked to set up the stage for the show that evening, from special effects to lighting, they worked hard to create a show the fans would remember and love.

Currently, you sat in the empty stadium, smack dab in the middle with an excellent view of the stage where the band was rehearsing. Even though it was just a simple rehearsal where they only ran through their songs and made adjustments when needed, it was still fascinating to watch their process.

The stage was huge, and even though there were dancers to fill up the space, the five men managed to dominate the entire thing, their presence striking and eye-catching.

It was also becoming increasingly obvious why Taeyong was the frontman of the group. He stood in the middle, guitar in hand as he sang into the mic, managing to grasp the entirety of your attention. The others were jaw-dropping as well, but there was something about him that was so entrancing that you couldn’t look away.

You told yourself that it was because you had to pay attention to him, nothing more, but he was a hard person not to pay attention to.

Soon, they called for a break, leaving their instruments on stage to come back to later. You didn’t move, however, staying nestled comfortably in your seat as you intently watched all of this take place. After all, the major part of your job was to observe, the smaller, much more important bit would only come with time but you weren’t too worried about it considering you had months to figure that out.

It kind of felt like you were on vacation and part of you wanted to get up and offer help, feeling very out of place as you saw everyone else running about, but you had to stop yourself from doing so. It wasn’t your place, and you’d have something to write by the third week of the tour for sure.

“Enjoying the show?”

You startled slightly, looking up to see Taeyong standing to the side of your seat, hands tucked in the pockets of his jeans. Once you had acknowledged his presence, he settled down in the seat next to you, legs slightly spread as he stretched his arms in front of him.

“The best show I’ve been to,” You said with a small grin, truthful. “And the only one.”

Surprise took over those pretty features of his. “You’ve never been to a concert?” He spoke like you had committed some sort of cardinal sin, blasphemy even.

“Nope,” You popped the p, shaking your head. The truth was that you would have killed to have gone to one as a kid, but just like travelling really hadn’t ever been in the cards for you, neither had a concert. You had had several artists you loved, but concert tickets were expensive, and you couldn’t bring yourself to ask your parents if you could get any.

“The first time I went to one was when I was fourteen.” His eyes were trained on the stage, the nostalgic look in them catching your attention. You sat up a little straighter, ready to drink in the information he was about to give you. “It was the moment I knew I wanted to do that for the rest of my life.”

“Something tells me you never go back on your word.” You acknowledged. Almost ten years later, he was doing exactly what he had promised himself he would and you admired the hell out of it.

“I don’t,” He hummed in confirmation, before finally looking back at you. “So, what do you think? About our performance, I mean.”

You thought about it for a moment before you answered him. “I think I’ll wait until the actual performance till I form an opinion, so it’s the most accurate, but so far I think you guys are amazing.”

Taeyong raised an eyebrow as if to say he didn’t believe that, “You don’t already have an opinion?”

“Was I supposed to?” You countered back, holding his gaze. You had interviewed plenty of people before, but never had you challenged them back- it wasn’t your job. What you were set to do was to gather information and string that information into something to be read, so you couldn’t quite explain why you had become so bold all of a sudden.

A slow, languid smile spread on his mouth as he studied your face like he held a secret that no one else knew and it amused him.

“People like you always have opinions.”

“People like me?”

“Journalists,” He said simply, and you would have been offended if you didn’t know he was right. The celebrity world thrived on opinions, they were the fuel to the ever-burning fire, fanning it day in and day out so it would never die.

And you knew for a fact that he had been subjected to the majority of all those opinions, some less civil than others. It should have been enough for him to be completely reclusive towards you, yet, he was somehow so calm around you and had even made the effort to come up there and talk to you.

He was really something, you concluded, something you wanted to figure out.

“I prefer to have sight of the entire picture instead of drawing assumptions from thin air.” You chose your words carefully. “That work for you?”

The look in his eyes softened a little into something more genuine and he nodded, agreeing with you. “You’re going to base your opinion off of a performance that you view backstage?”

“I got a frontstage view from here, and the best part is that it’s without all the screaming fans.”

“I love it when we walk on stage and the entire stadium is screaming,” He admitted with a faraway look in his eyes. “It’s invigorating, sometimes we can’t even hear the music in our earpieces because of it.” You could tell that the band had a very strong bond just from the way he spoke about them- it was almost a little envy-inducing if you were being honest.

He let out a soft sigh, tapping his fingers absentmindedly against the plastic handrest of the seat. “But there’s something magical about empty stadiums too, the silence is…deafening almost, but in the best way possible. All this silence is somehow filled by the evening, and I didn’t realize how much that meant until I experienced it first hand.”

He still hadn’t looked away, and the air between the two of you shifted ever so slightly like you had gone from strangers to acquaintances.

Maybe more. It wasn’t rocket science for anyone to notice the interest you held in him- professional or not- neither was it hard to pick up on his effort to come to talk to you.

“I can never choose if I like the emptiness or the full one more,” He confessed quietly to you, and it was only then you realized how close he was. For some reason, even though that little bit of information wasn’t anything groundbreaking, it felt important. He felt more real than any other person you had ever interviewed had, and that sounded cold in a way, but that was just how it was.

(Then again, your most fantastic piece until this point had been about people standing in lines-er - not something you were entirely proud of.)

“Maybe you don’t have to choose,” You muttered, your voice somehow sounding louder than it actually was. “Maybe you can have it all.”

It was only then that he looked away, scoffing slightly under his breath. The spell was broken, snapping you out of the slight trance he had managed to put you under, and you pressed your lips together, watching as his demeanour changed in the blink of an eye.

“In our world? No one can have it all.”

The opening act had just finished and the crowd was riled up, excited for the main event coming up. Kim Hyoyeon, a rising pop-rock star, was said to be amazing on stage and she definitely lived up to it, giving the fans exactly what they wanted and just enough to prepare them for what was to come.

Backstage was the epitome of chaos, you couldn’t keep track of anything that was happening at any given point in time. You didn’t know how Irene managed to stay so calm the entire time, but you chalked it up to her being used to the commotion. The look on her face was serene as she dished out instructions without even breaking a sweat.

Of course, it was a different story when the boys actually emerged from their greenrooms with make-up artists flocking them to touch up their make-up. They looked fantastic, feeding into their signature rocker look with the leather jackets and ripped jeans that drove the crowd wild.

Each outfit was different but tied together well regardless, making them look like the perfect team.

And for some reason, you lingered on Taeyong, who donned a red leather jacket that matched his hair over a black vest that was loosely buttoned over leather pants. To top it off, several pretty earrings hung from his ear piercings, the icing on the cake. He was the type of guy who stood out and was gorgeous in every situation, but with the way, his hair was styled and make-up was done, that attribute of his was elevated.

In short, Lee Taeyong was hot as hell, and you were willing to bet on the fact that he knew it.

“You’re on in five,” Irene warned them and like clockwork, they all made their way towards a part of the stage that had been previously lowered down with all their instruments arranged on it. Yuta took his place behind the drums, Doyoung behind the keyboard and Mark, Jeno and Taeyong picked up their respective guitars. Then they gathered together and put their hands together, saying something before yelling out the name of their band. A pre-show ritual, you presumed.

Just as they did, Taeyong glanced back and somehow spotted you throughout the chaos. The side of his mouth curled up into a wry smirk as he adjusted his guitar in his hands and mouthed.

‘Enjoy the show.’

Hyoyeon returned backstage and it was then when the part of the stage that they were standing on began to slowly rise. You could hear the screams of the fans get louder with every passing second as the band emerged for them to see. To you, however, they dulled out due to the fact that you were still caught up in the fact that he chose to look at you.

Oh lord. What on earth were you thinking? You had known this man for a grand total of three days give or take, and even saying you knew him was a stretch.

But you did. You knew far too much.

The music began, loud and intense, you could feel it in your stomach even backstage. You could just about hear their voices and how well they blended with each other, having much more energy and stage presence than they did in the afternoon. After all, this was the real deal, the real show.

The first show of the tour was today, and the tour itself would last from May to the beginning of September. It was the kickstart, the show they had to start with an absolute bang to set the tone for the rest of it. Even though you couldn’t see them out there, you were kind of glad you decided to wait before forming a proper opinion to present to Taeyong. You could tell that they were one hell of a band just from listening to them play.

You didn’t get to see them during the twenty-second breaks they got to change outfits, but you could see the commotion that followed with the staff running around with the clothes and water bottles with straws in them. The scene jerked you to reality and reminded you that you were supposed to be noting things down to write about.

All you had been doing was enjoying and basking in the feeling the concert was giving you, but you weren’t getting paid to write about your feelings, were you?

Definitely not.

It was over just as quickly as it began and you were envious of those sitting outside that were able to watch the show and take it in its entirety. Now, you had to put together what you remembered from the rehearsal with what you could hear from where you were with your imagination. It wasn’t like you had a terrible imagination or anything of the sort, quite the opposite. What you were a little afraid of was that if you ever did get the opportunity to see the show, it wouldn’t live up to what you had concocted in your mind.

That was ridiculous because what you were here to do was to tell the truth, not to hope for something else. And besides, you were sure that it would be positively out of this world.

They walked backstage as the show ended, grins painting their faces with pride at what they had just done. A smile of your own made its way onto your face as you watched them saunter out. Yuta raised a closed fist in the air with a triumphant look and the rest follow suit after him.

Backstage erupted in cheers for the successful first show and you were quickly pulled in to celebrate with them, even though you had nothing to do with it. For once, even Irene allowed herself to smile at Taeyong, which was a rare sight on the observation of the constant glares she sent his way and the expression of pleasant surprise on his face.

But then she said something to him and the happy look in his eyes dulled out ever so slightly, no one else would have caught it. He swallowed and then turned to look at you from across the room as she continued to speak. He dropped his eyes and nodded and she smiled again, patting his shoulder and walking away.

You didn’t know why, but suddenly you had the strong urge to try and reinstall the look he had before she said whatever she did that managed to take it away. The feeling was quick and rushed but strong and without even thinking you began walking over to do just that.

“My opinion remains,” You said after clearing your throat. For a split second, the usual self-assured look that he possessed wasn’t there, but just as quickly as it had disappeared, it was back. He raised an expectant eyebrow, prompting you to continue.

“The best show I’ve ever been to,” You repeated your words from earlier. “Even if I didn’t get to properly watch it.”

He was amused, you could tell from the way he was looking at you. Something about it had a flame alight in the pit of your stomach and you were mystified by it because it had never happened before, for you weren’t the type of girl who was easily flustered or affected by simply a look given in your direction by a pretty boy.

You were usually good at deciphering what you felt, but this time you were at a loss, grasping at any semblance of an idea for what it could be that your mind presented to you.

Taeyong leaned over a little, “You will one day.”

And with that he strolled off, disappearing once again behind the doors of his green room. Once he was out of sight, you let out a breath that you didn’t even know you had been holding in and grabbed one of the water bottles from the table, unscrewing it and taking a large gulp.

Thinking was turning out to be dangerous, but for some reason, you didn’t want to stop.

“This isn’t water.”

Taeyong held out the plastic bottle he had taken from the mini fridge on the tour bus in front of his face, before throwing a confused look at his bandmates. It was only them who were awake then, still high off the adrenaline rush the show had given them, while everyone else was sleeping in the upstairs section of the bus.

“It’s not,” Mark confirmed without even looking up from his laptop. “It’s vodka.”

He wasn’t surprised, and shrugged, taking another swig of the drink and settling down on the couch. Smuggling alcohol onto the bus wasn’t a first, they had been doing so since before they were even legally allowed to drink, and although he was sure their manager knew about it, over time she found it easier to just let it slide. The number of things one could get away with when they were famous was astounding, some things better than others.

“I’m surprised you’re here with us and not at some bar,” Doyoung cut into the conversation, squinting at his friend. Taeyong frowned lightly at that statement and how it made him sound, even though he knew band mates didn’t think of him like that.

“I do that when we have a few days in the city, not if we’re travelling straight away.”

Doyoung must have noticed the slight clench in Taeyong’s jaw because he continued. “There’s nothing wrong with it, I just thought you were following Irene’s orders. Best behaviour and shit for Y/n.”

Taeyong sighed and took another large sip of the vodka. This conversation was reminding him far too much of the brief one he had had with his manager right after his show, something he really didn’t want to think about.

“It’s started perfectly Taeyong, don’t ruin it.”

Irene’s cold gaze was trained on him, making sure every word had sunken in because she was right, unfortunately. The first show had been a roaring success, good enough to drown out the rumour that had clung onto his skin more than anything ever had.

“You might not think it, because she wasn’t the reporter we were expecting to be tagging along, but she is watching. Don’t be fooled.” She warned, before patting his shoulder twice to make up for her harsh words. Encouragement on the smallest scale.

The moment she said that Taeyong looked at you. He didn’t know how he could feel you already watching him from where you were, but it only solidified what she had said about you, as much as he didn’t want to believe it. You were different from the press he had to deal with on the daily, you were genuine- or at least, that’s how he perceived you.

He hoped he was right because not even a moment you walked up to him and said something that had a smile threatening to break out on his face. He liked the fact you seemed different and he wanted it to be true, to be pleasantly surprised for once.

Scandals- he didn’t give two shits about them. Stressing over them was a waste of time, for the most part, created by a reporter that needed a little boost to their name because they were bad at actually finding credible information. They were rumours that were taken way out of proportion and everyone in the business was a goddamn hypocrite.

So he went out for a drink? Big fucking deal, everyone did that. He would never understand how he got backlash for letting loose once in a while when millions of people around the globe did the exact same thing, sometimes more so than he did. The media loved exaggerating and more often than not, taking things out of proportion when there was no need to.

Most of the time he ignored them and went on with his life, getting obsessed and tied down to people’s flaky opinions was a waste of time he didn’t have. Every week there would be a new picture of him in some magazine somewhere in the world with a new incriminating thing to add to his name, even if he truly hadn’t done anything.

It was a never-ending cycle.

But this time….this time pretending to be oblivious wouldn’t work. One little article had blown way out of proportion to the point where he expected a question about it from every reporter that managed to step in his way. It was maddening at this point, he didn’t want to be judged for the way he spent his nights, he wanted to be judged for his music.

The worst part about it was the weight it held and the fact that it could drag the band down with him.

Which was why he wanted you to be different. Your eyes didn’t have that hungry, vindictive look he was so used to, you looked more authentic than all the fraudulent people he had to grin and bear with on the daily.

Unfortunately, reality had no place for that type of useless, hollow hope, so he had no choice but to be on his best behaviour to make sure that you wrote only good things. Even if it was all fake, he had to get on your good side for the sake of the other four people that would be dragged down with him if he didn’t.

“Yeah,” Taeyong mumbled as the alcohol kissed his throat with a burning sensation he so often turned to for comfort. “Gotta keep up appearances.”

Nakomoto Yuta was charming with his long, unruly hair and Cheshire cat grin. One mere glance at him would have you know that he was a force to be reckoned with, a force that many would die to have with them in their beds and he couldn’t deny the fact that he had his fair share of nightly fun.

He was a realist and a cynic, two qualities you generally enjoyed in a person, especially a subject. It made it easier to get the truth out of them.

So to your immense surprise, you were extremely bored.

Now, it wasn’t to say that he wasn’t an interesting person- he absolutely was. You knew an interview with him would also cash in the big bucks, but you were greedy and ambitious. You had your eyes on a different prize, the biggest fish in the pond.

Taeyong, of course.

To you, he was much more interesting. As real as Yuta was, Taeyong was guarded, he knew exactly how much to give the public and what to say. Over the past few shows you had spoken with him pretty often, striking up an odd friendship of sorts, but every interaction left more to be wanted from it. He challenged you back and left you thinking about what you had given and what you had taken.

The truce between the two of you had begun the day of the first show when both of you sat in that empty stadium and he told you his motivations for becoming what he was today. It benefited you nicely because you didn’t have to scour around and beg for details.

It didn’t mean that you didn’t have to work for it, though, because you definitely did. The talk between you two was mundane at most, everyday things. The type of coffee he liked, on which he would turn around and ask you the same question. More than anything, it was a trade-off, bartering on both ends.

Even so, you found yourself more interested in those little snippets of facts than the little interview you were holding with Yuta right now, and you couldn’t, for the life of you, figure out why.

“Y/n? Are you even listening to me?”

You quickly looked at Yuta, whose eyes were filled with dancing mirth at your unattentiveness. He didn’t seem offended though, and you winced. “Sorry, I kind of got lost in my thoughts there.”

“Anyone could have seen that, you’re boring the pretty lady Nakamoto.”

Speak of the devil, Taeyong himself stood there, leaning against one of the walls of the bus as he looked at you. You had no idea how you didn’t notice him come him, simply because he was the type of person you couldn’t not notice. Rolling your eyes, you adjusted yourself on the sofa and turned back to Yuta.

“You’ve been with me for two hours or so now,” You said, gathering your things. “I think we can stop for today, thank you for your time, Yuta.”

The literal translation to your words: This is just a formality.

He didn’t have to know that though and smiled, nodding. “Yeah, no problem. You’re nice to talk to, unlike some other reporters I’ve had to deal with. One stalked me for three weeks.” He groaned at the memory and ran a hand through his hair, lips pinched in displeasure. You cringed at how bad that made the people in your line of work sound.

“We’re not all like that,” You started timidly, not knowing where the sudden urge to defend them- or perhaps yourself. Taeyong scoffed from where he stood, intruding a little on the discussion and smiled.

“No Y/n, it’s the other way around,” He corrected you swiftly. “They’re not all like you.”

It was a compliment, one that had heat curling around your neck and up to your face. It made you feel like he was fond of you, at least a little bit, and you liked that thought. You got to your feet to retreat to the little part of the tour bus that you called your own upstairs, knowing that you were going to have to go over the recording you has taken of your interview with Yuta and pick out the few things you would be using for your article.

“When will you be interviewing me?” He asked, indulging in his curiosity as you made your way to the stairs, piling your tape recorder on top of your notebook, which sat atop your laptop. Somehow, you managed to balance a pen on top of that as well, along with your phone.

Taking note of the tower in your hands that was probably going to fall any minute now, he reached out and took your journal and recording out from on top of it, held it for you like it was the most natural thing to do and ushered you to start moving. A little surprised, you mumbled a small thanks as you began ascending the steps.

“Soon,” You said finally after thinking over it for a bit, finally making it up to the top floor, walking over to your bit of it, which was right at the end.

“....Soon?”

You repeated the word, confirming. “Soon.”

“Why not now?”

God, he loved asking questions, didn’t he? Specifically questions you did not have any answers to at any given moment, and you shrugged.

“You’re a famous person. Aren’t you like, busy?”

A mischievous smile made a show on his gorgeous face as he put your things down on your bed and leaned against the frame, hands tucked into his pockets. “For you? Never.”

You stiffened at his words, staring at him in bewilderment because that sounded like he was flirting with you. It really did, but even the sheer thought of that was absurd. He couldn’t have been flirting with you, right?

Oh, who were you kidding? If the papers had anything to say about it (and you best believe that they had a lot), it would be that Taeyong flirted with anything had possessed a pulse. The moment you remembered this, you proceeded to mentally chastise yourself for trusting those sources. It wasn’t fair to him.

“I was going to go over my notes and recording from Yuta’s but….I don’t want to,” You confessed sheepishly.

“Aha, so he did bore you.”

“Of course not, I’m just lazy right now.”

He didn’t believe you for a second, but let it slide anyway, watching as you arranged all your things neatly one on top of another again and pushed it to the side. “Okay, then let me interview you.”

To this, you raised a questioning eyebrow, not quite knowing where he was going with this. “I’m sorry?”

“I’ve always been curious about how it is to be on the other side, and since you don’t want to do what you have to, you can use this as a reason to procrastinate and blame me.” He bargained, taking a seat on the leisure seat opposite your bed and leaning into it. “Surely you can sit through answering a few questions when you make us go through it all the time.”

You silently laughed at his reasoning, finding it a tad eccentric. “It’s my job to ask the questions, Taeyong, and it’s yours to answer them, not the other way around.”

His lips twitched at your attempt to push him away considering he could tell you were almost completely on board with the idea. “It’s my job to make music and perform, not tell the world the last celebrity I fucked.”

You nearly choked on your tongue at how crude he was with his wording, coughing abruptly and covering your mouth with your palm. How he spoke about it so freely, you would never understand, and your fingers brushed against the warm skin of your cheeks, telling you that you were not used to it.

Taeyong cocked his head to the side in mock innocence at the reaction he managed to elicit from you. You were absolutely adorable and so damn inexperienced when it came to the world he lived in because of how different yours was.

“What? Isn’t that what everyone wants to know?” He drawled, and you rolled your eyes in an attempt to shrug off the effect he had on you.

The answer you settled for was cautious, one that you could play off easily without thinking of your heated cheeks at how blunt he was. “You think very highly of yourself.”

“Why are you a journalist?”

He dropped the previous topic, going straight to asking you a question you hadn’t expected, though now that you thought about it, it was an obvious one. Blinking slowly, you bit the inside of your cheek, “Because I love writing, obviously, and I want to work at the New York Times one day.”

“Is that it?” Disbelief coated every syllable.

“Must there be more?”

“You know damn well there is,” He chuckled, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. You sat down directly opposite him. “No one becomes something because of one flimsy reason, I can tell you that much. I didn’t form a band and get a record deal just because I love music. Of course, I love music, but I also love performing and hearing all those fans scream because of it. I love sharing that music with the world and I won’t give you any of that ‘I’m not in it for the fame’ bullshit. I love every second of it.”

He’s blunt, you noted mentally, storing the information in the back of your mind for later. Although he was the one asking you the questions this time around, he was also giving you little pieces of him. Somehow, it made the process more gratifying.

There was silence for a few seconds after that, leaving you with bated breath. Every time someone asked you the reason you had taken up journalism, you gave them the textbook answer, one that they expected. It was true, of course, there wasn’t a single thing you’d rather do than this, because you did love it.

And then there's the less known answer. One that you didn’t indulge in all that often because it seemed like an afterthought on your tongue. The fact that he could see right through you and figure out that there was something else to do with your career choice scared you a little.

“Travel,” You confessed softly, “I wanted to…see the world, even if it meant a work trip.”

He was the first person you had ever told about this secret desire of yours because every other time you pondered telling it to someone, it sounded rather silly. Even now, as you pronounced it on your tongue, the fire over the wish burned dimly at best, in fear of being pushed down and discredited for it.

He didn’t make fun of you, though, only furrowing his eyebrows. “Wow. I kind of feel bad for you.”

“I’m sorry?”

“We’ve been to what-? Five different places now? And all you’ve seen in the inside of a stadium and greenrooms. That’s a pretty shitty way to see the world if you ask me.”

“I’ll take what I get.” You shrugged, once again adjusting the setup of your materials beside you until you were satisfied. “You do it all the time.”

“That’s not the same,” he argued ardently, but then dropped the topic altogether, not wanting to come across as overbearing in any way. “Thanks for the insightful information Y/n, I think I’d be an excellent journalist.” There was a particular sparkle in his eyes when he said that, like all the precious jewels in the world had taken sanctuary in them.

You watched him retreat downstairs, leaving you to your own devices and thoughts, ones that were much too loud for your liking.

There were many things that had angered his hot-headed manager in the past, and many of those times led to him being the unfortunate and unwarranted receiver of her fury. Over time, he had gotten used to it and took it in good sport, but he would never forget the very first time it happened.

It had been after one of their first talk-show interviews when their journey together as a band had just kicked off, having gathered a substantial following and fanbase for being so new to the music scene. They were being escorted out of the building and into their cars after a successful interview.

They still hadn’t gotten used to the feeling of being swarmed by fans and paparazzi and were left in a mixture of shock and awe as they exited the building, immediately hit with the screams of fans begging for even a glance in their direction. Several reporters aggregated around them, pushing past the boundaries that their bodyguards had tried to set for their safety to thrust a microphone in their faces and yell out their questions.

Renjun went over what they had to do when presented with situations like these every time they went out to promote their music when they were industry babies. Taeyong stayed close to the rest of his band mates, walking right behind Yuta with Jeno sandwiched between him and Doyoung who stood towards the back. They had always been fiercely protective of the youngest.

He was acutely aware of the bodyguard that walked by his side, his hands outstretched around the group to shield them from the unruly audience. Just as their publicist told them, he flashed the reporters a polite smile so as to not suddenly be on the top ten rudest celebrities list, and then looked down at his feet, avoiding all eye contact with the cameras.

Rule number one about being famous; you could never be too careful.

But he was only nineteen, artless and spontaneous in everything he did. A reporter yelled out his name so loud that he looked up out of instinct, meeting the culprit's eyes quickly.

And then a camera- or was it one of those dratted microphones?- knocked into the side of his face by his right eye so hard that he visibly winced at the sharp sting of pain that followed. His eyes screwed shut as he flinched away, almost stumbling right into Mark, who yelped softly in surprise.

He heard Irene yelling infuriated at whoever had done that and the bodyguard moved so that he was covering Taeyong even more. Opening just one eye, he got into the backseat of the car and groaned softly, bringing his fingers up to the place that hurt to somehow assess the situation.

“Dude, you okay? Holy shit-” Mark's voice cut off midway.

Taeyong opened both of his eyes and stared in annoyance and bewilderment at the red stain that coated the tips of his fingers. Irene slipped inside, muttering profanities at the wildness of the paparazzi when she noticed him staring at his hand, and then at the cut on his face.

“Oh for fucks sake!” She all but growled, startling Jeno who was situated beside her. “I didn’t expect you to start bleeding from that.”

He glanced up at his manager, who wore a not-so-flattering glower on her face, taking her phone out and furiously jamming in a few numbers until the contact she desired popped up. Doyoung handed Taeyong a tissue to wipe his hands, his eyebrows furrowing in silent concern, but he shook his head, assuring his friend he was fine.

“You should have been more careful,” Irene snapped, holding the phone to her ear. “I hope that heals soon.”

“It’s not that bad, it doesn’t even hurt anymore,” He remembered reasoning with her. “I think it was just the shock that got to me.”

“It doesn’t matter if it hurts or not, Taeyong, you guys have an editorial shoot next week,” Her words made him freeze. “You have to look perfect.”

That was when it hit him- what her distress was truly about. She hadn’t stopped to ask if he was alright or if he was hurt badly, those things didn’t matter to her as their manager. What she cared about was if he would look good enough for a photoshoot coming up because that was where her priorities lay.

“I suppose the make-up artists can cover it up for now,” She muttered indignantly, before launching into an animated conversation with whoever she had called. Taeyong swallowed the lump in his throat and slumped in his seat every so slightly, admittedly hurt over the realisation that dawned upon him that day.

But it was an important lesson for him to learn, one he carried forward with him as the band got bigger and more famous than anyone thought was possible. When the swarms of cameramen got even larger and the photoshoots increased in number, he made sure to follow Renjun’s instructions to the T.

Everything about celebrities was taken at face value. This was the cold, hard truth that he had to learn to live with because of how literal it was, because of how cosmetic and fake most things were.

They used makeup on the cut for a few months to cover it up, until it healed incompletely into a small, almost unnoticeable scar, serving as a reminder every time he forgot about how his new world worked.

You were slowly getting accustomed to the after-show routine that happened every time. Cherry Bomb would retreat backstage, accompanied by the dying yelling of fans experiencing post-concert depression. They would be handed water bottles and would walk around for a bit, hugging staff and accepting congratulations, before finally deciding to retreat to the bus. You had mostly memorized the sequence of events after seeing it happen so many times.

Which is exactly why you were so bewildered right now when none of that happened.

This time, all five of them seemed to be in a rush, wild looks in their eyes. They stopped for a moment to exchange pleasantries with Irene- a mere formality at this point- as quickly as humanly possible, their unequivocal hurry making a show with the bounce in their steps. Once she was done with them, they scrambled back to their green rooms.

Taeyong must have seen the look of pure confusion on your face because he stopped to admire it, a smile tugging at his cheshire lips at the way your eyebrows cinched and your own lips puffed out slightly in bafflement. He could tell that you knew something was up and that you definitely wanted in on the supposed secret that seemed to alter their usual routine.

Now, he knew very well that Irene would probably kill him for what he was thinking about doing. Then she would resurrect him from the dead, Jesus style, and proceed to murder him once again, repeating the process until she was satisfied. He was supposed to put the best version of himself forward for you to dissect.

So if he knew this so well, why was he walking over to you anyway? When you noticed that he was coming towards you, you stood a little straighter, eyes widening slightly. “We don’t start travelling till tomorrow,” He said first, giving you context for what was going to follow. “So we’re going to a party.”

He could see the flicker of interest in your eyes. “A party?”

Taeyong nodded, “We’ll take about ten minutes to change and then leave in the car out back. Wanna come?”

Your first thought was your outfit. A sweater that was on the thinner side tucked into a skirt, formal enough without looking overbearing. Most of the clothes you packed for the tour were of the same nature, and for good reason, because it was exactly what you would wear to work, and that was what this was.

The funny thing was that you actually had to remind yourself that you were here for work and not pleasure. Especially when he was asking you if you wanted to come along.

“I don’t have anything party worthy to wear.”

He dragged his gaze over your physique and you never wished you were wearing something else more than you had at that moment. Something a little more impressive maybe.

“You look great.”

Scratch that, this was now your favourite outfit.

He said it with such conviction that you were left with no other choice but to believe him. Sucking in a breath through your teeth, you tried to count to ten as you thought about how to say no. Ten, nine, eight…

“Okay,” You breathed out, miserable failing at your attempt to have any semblance of self-control. He grinned at you before walking away and reiterating where you should meet him in a few minutes, joining the rest of his bandmates.

Gathering your wits, you excused yourself to go find the car he spoke about, admittedly nervous about the entire ordeal. The last time you had gone to a party was during your junior year of college. Your senior year had you completely occupied with exams and being editor of the school paper, leaving you with barely any time to go out, much less for a party.

And here you were, agreeing to go to one without even thinking about it properly. There was so much wrong with this plan that you decided even analyzing your decision-making was not worth it.

Just when you were starting to think Taeyong had pulled a prank on you, they walked out, dressed in clothes that were more casual than the ones they wore on stage, but most of their makeup and hair styling was still intact. When they were closer, Doyoung stopped in his tracks and narrowed his eyes at you.

“What are you doing here?” He questioned- well, more like demanded an answer out of you. The others, except Taeyong, all looked a little puzzled at your presence and thats when you realized that he hadn’t told anyone he invited you along.

“She’s coming with,” He said, eliciting a look of outright indignation from the younger boy.

“Are you fucking stupid? She’s a journalist, she’ll-”

“She won’t be recording or interviewing anyone tonight, right Y/n?” He said, voice impossibly sweet as he looked at you expectantly, one eyebrow quirked high as if urging you to say yes. You supposed that was your side of the deal if you were coming along. As a journalist, you should have lied and said yes with the full intention of taking in every detail.

So when you nodded and the word ‘yes’ left your lips, you were surprised to find that you genuinely meant it. Satisfied, he opened the door and cocked his head to the side, gesturing for all of you to get in. The others still looked pretty dubious of your presence, especially Doyoung, but they quickly brushed it aside and obliged.

You ended up sitting in between Taeyong and Yuta in the car, with Doyoung driving and Mark in the passenger seat. Turns out, Jeno had been kept back because of something new popping up in his schedule alone (something about a photoshoot for one of the brands he was an ambassador of, that Irene insisted she brief him about at that very moment in time) and would be joining all of you later.

Mark slipped a lighter out of his pocket and lit a blunt, glancing up at you through the rearview mirror and holding it up. “Wanna hit?”

“Is that…?” You trailed off, a little put off at how casual he was about it. He nodded.

“Weed.”

“Jesus Christ Mark, why don’t you go tell her all our sins,” Doyoung groaned, tightening his grip around the steering wheel. Mark laughed his airy, broken record-sounding laugh, and shrugged complacently, unaffected by the possible repercussions of his actions.

“It’s not like the entire world already knows,” He deadpanned. You remembered the few articles about them being caught smoking on several occasions. “The place we’re going to is going to be full of this shit, I’m only giving her a taste. Speaking of which, do you want a cig or not?”

As you were with parties, you tended to steer away from the drug-using crowd during your school and college days, leaving you wary of the offer, so you shook your head.

“I’m good.”

“I’m not, give me one,” Yuta said right after you, and Mark did as he asked, handing a blunt over to the older man, leaning over to light it. You felt wildly out of place, nervously playing with your fingers in your lap and contemplating whether you should have agreed, after all, feeling the heels of your shoes dig into the car mat beneath your feet.

As if he could sense your doubts, Taeyong shifted slightly in his seat and dipped his head down until his mouth was near your temple. “Relax,” He said softly, the warmth of his arm around the back of your seat feeling as if it was being projected onto you, “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” Then he resumed his previous posture. “But yeah, you’re going to have to wipe the mildly terrified look from your face, princess, Mingyu’s party isn’t exactly a formal event with champagne flutes.”

The nickname was used in a manner of teasing, you knew. He was teasing you for being so tightly wound up and surprised at every little thing, but that didn’t stop an odd, fluttery feeling from taking place in the pit of your torso.

Your eyes widened in surprise at that statement of his- not the bit about the party not being a formal event, but the fact he mentioned Kim Mingyu, an actor who had built his reputation over being the ‘good boy’ actor of Hollywood. That was until he found himself in a dating scandal and was exposed for not being as innocent as everyone initially perceived. When he decided to embrace that part of him he received a lot of backlash, but a hell of a lot of respect for it as well, boosting his career through the roof.

As they said, all publicity is good publicity.

“You guys know Mingyu?” It seemed odd for rock stars to know an actor, at least in your eyes, and then you felt a little idiotic. Of course, they knew him. Mark nodded from the front, taking a drag from his cigarette and blowing out the smoke.

“Yeah, for a while too. His parties are great to wind down at after a show.”

You had a feeling that his idea of winding down was very different to yours. “Interesting.”

It was clear to you from that moment that this party was going to be full of Hollywood’s finest and most sought-after. In short, a journalist's heaven, with so many stories in one place right within your grasp. So many stories and loose ends other press had tried hunting for ages and you had been given entrance on a red carpet.

You were a fool for not trying to pounce on the idea, all to keep the trust of a man you had been friends with for only a month or so. In a way it was laughable. Trying to keep enough of his trust in you intact just so you could tear through the walls he had built around himself for people just like you.

He was wrong. You were just like the rest, and for the first time since you set foot on this tour, guilt crept into you.

The car stopped, signalling that you had reached your destination. Swallowing the new and unwelcome sensation of guilt, you reminded yourself that there wasn’t a good or bad side to this, there never was, no matter how much the media tried to insist the same. It was ironic.

Getting out of the car, you bit the inside of your cheek, shaking those thoughts off and focusing on the house in front of you, or rather, the mansion, because your jaw slackened at the sight of it. The large iron gates walled off the piece of land from the public, enclosing the frothing fountains and tiled pathway that lead to the front of a house that looked a little old-fashioned, but in a tasteful manner. You could tell by the lights flashing in the windows that the party was already in full swing with no signs of stopping anytime soon.

The inside only cemented that fact and from the moment you set foot inside the house, it felt like you were lost. The same scent that had accompanied the blunt Mark and Yuta had used wafted through the air, lost in the haze of alcohol and other drugs.

You had no business being surprised, Hollywood was tainted with all sorts of different sins. Some of those very sins had become so commonplace that no one had the right to judge or ridicule them. You spotted a few familiar faces that you had seen on TV, or perhaps in the news as the band members dispersed slowly to get drinks and talk to their friends.

And then you were alone.

Taeyong stayed fairly close by though, knowing that this was a new scene for you. He admired the way you didn’t look scared, but more so curious as to how it all worked, eyes alert and scanning over everything. He could practically see the gears turning in your head as you made sense of it all.

Yuta was on one of the couches, talking to a few ladies, Doyoung sat by the bar and Mark had disappeared completely, no doubt now occupying one of the many rooms of the mansion with a woman. You didn’t know exactly when Jeno showed up, but you spotted him once with a drink in hand, humming along to the music.

You really had no idea how this worked, you thought in bewilderment as you tried your best to pay attention to whatever the person talking to you was saying. You brought your cup to your lips and sipped on the beer that swirled inside it as you nodded whenever you thought was appropriate enough to look like you were seriously invested. The man was no doubt a celebrity, he had the same careless arrogance you had seen everyone carry around.

Politely excusing yourself, you downed the rest of the beer, having chosen the most basic drink out of the wide selection that Mingyu had to offer to play it safe.

You managed to find an empty balcony on one of the floors, walking out to escape the heaviness of the interior, letting out a tired sigh; a sigh that carried all your worries with its exhale. The sky was dotted with an effervescence of stars that glittered against the dark canvas they lay on for the world to muse at, humble in their existence and still so captivating.

Once again, you started doubting yourself- because what sort of journalist wasn’t up for inserting themselves in the situations that concerned their work? George Plimpton, Earnie Pyle, Hunter Thompson- all excellent journalists that always took part. Granted, the things they did were a little more extreme than attending a party, but surely you should have been eagerly following in their footsteps instead of standing still and contemplating every step you took.

“Thought I’d find you here.”

You turned around on your heel to meet Taeyong’s eyes. He stood there, leaning against the door frame with a drink in his hand, looking straight at you.

“Did you really?” You quirked an eyebrow, causing him to grin sheepishly as he walked over, joining you next to the balcony railing, resting his elbows on it as he leaned against it. You hadn’t invited him to join you, but he had brazenly done so anyway, and you admired that quality about him.

“Nah, I was hoping I would though. I just know people say lines like those in movies.”

You let yourself laugh, instantly feeling more at ease now that you weren’t surrounded by strangers, but just with someone you knew to an extent. It was a talent of his, you decided, to so easily be able to draw people in.

“Good guessing skills,” You quipped, sighing. He looked to his side at you, a half smile playing on his lips in a lopsided manner.

“Well then, I’m guessing this isn’t your scene?”

“God, no,” You blurted out gracelessly, “I mean, it’s interesting to watch and indulge in for a few minutes but I get bored of it very easily. Reminds me of college.”

He hummed. “How is it? College, I mean. I’ve never been.” He stared at you curiously, and you recollected that Cherry Bomb had been formed right when he had graduated high school. Stardom and normal college life were not things that were ever meant to intersect.

“A little more relaxed than high school, but that gets to some people and they let go completely, and by your junior year you’re finally allowed to legally drink,” was the explanation you settled on. “Not that it stops the freshmen anyway.”

He pressed the mouth of his bottle to his lips, taking another sip as he drank in your words. “Sounds boring.”

“Not for everyone, I just happened to spend half my time in my university’s newsroom, so my experience wasn’t exactly the most exciting.” You shrugged, suddenly a little embarrassed over the fact. Here you stood beside someone who had one of the most exciting lives ever and you paled in comparison. Why was he even talking to you?

You looked so pretty right then, a rueful smile gracing your face like you regretted not participating more, strands of your hair falling in front of your face and out of your loose ponytail, and he couldn’t help but wonder if you were aware of just how bewitching you were. He couldn’t help but be just a little envious of the glass that previously held your drink, and how it had the opportunity of having your lips on it, rather than him being able to kiss you.

The startling realization that he wanted to kiss you was enough to pull him right back out of his trance, but there wasn’t anything inherently wrong with thinking about it, was there?

“You just haven’t been in any exciting situations,” He countered and it was then you noticed how the light from the moon flickered through the wisps of his hair, illuminating the edges like a halo. A crimson halo that is, two things that contradicted each other in an almost comical manner. Halos were supposed to be golden and pure.

You had a feeling that Taeyong was anything but.

And you had no idea why you liked the prospect of that as much as you did. “I suppose you know exactly how to get into those types of situations.”

He smirked, an expression so dizzying to look at that you momentarily entertained the idea of looking around for a seat before your knees inevitable buckled, and gripped the railing rigidly. He took a step closer to you until the space between the two of you had reduced to far too little for your dwindling sanity.

“Why? Are you interested?”

Suddenly it felt like the air had hiked up in temperature like it was warmer than before and it prickled at your skin. You blamed your sweater, but you could feel it on your bare legs too, and on the exposed skin of your neck. That very heat crawled upwards onto your cheeks, but you refused to acknowledge it, keeping your eyes locked on his.

He was close, closer than your sanity would have liked. You took the opportunity to study him for a moment, from the rise of his cheekbones to the little, almost unnoticeable scar next to his right eye- you momentarily wonder how he got it. Somehow, he was still gorgeous.

“Maybe I am.”

He moved just a little closer, beguiled by how quickly you responded. It was evident that you loved challenges and he dropped his voice a little even though there was no one else around. “Good.” Tempting, an affirmation that he had wanted to show all those exciting places and situations to you and by god, you were so tempted.

He didn’t know why he was so taken with you, and you did not know how to get your body feeling normal again and not like it was in a sauna. That smirk, the way he looked at you and the way you stared back without backing down even for a second, it was new to the both of you.

Oh, you were so fucked.

It was around four in the morning when your head finally met your cold pillow and your fingers curled into the thin blanket you used to cover yourself. The party had not ended yet, but the group of you decided to leave so you would get at least a few hours of sleep before Irene came along and yelled at everyone for their irresponsibility.

The moment you returned, you had changed out of your outfit into something lighter. A tank top and shorts, kicking off your shoes and hoping it would be enough to erase the effect a certain man had on you.

One would think that after having such a long day you’d fall asleep immediately, and frankly, you did too. You thought that the sweet, sweet cycle of REM sleep would take over your mind and you would be knocked out within minutes of lying down on the bed.

Nothing. Nada. Zilch.

Your mind was still awake, racing faster than it usually did, only one thing- or rather, one person- on it. The reason? It was stressing you out.

The fact that you were so blatantly attracted to Taeyong was a problem. For one, it was highly unprofessional and just plain wrong to be into someone you were writing an article about. That alone should have had your insides twist with worry at what was to come.

It was bad enough that the world thought most female reporters went about sleeping with their subjects anyway and you were mortified over possibly turning into one of those women, rumour or not. This was a job, a job you were supposed to do well and never look back at again, one that would kickstart your career for the better.

So why on earth did you feel so unapologetic about it?

You had fallen for people before, but you wouldn’t say that you had fallen in love. The guys you had been with before had been benevolent and nonabrasive at best, the ones who tended to play it safe to avoid misadventures. The tenderness that was growing in your chest for Taeyong was so foreign that you almost didn’t recognize it.

It was the result of him, the way he was. The way he challenged you without ever putting you down, that proud look in his eye that he earned over the years, but it was one that never drifted into being that of an asshole. Not many people were able to pull that sort of confidence off, but he did it with such ease that it was irritatingly attractive.

You guessed that it was because of this very confidence that he possessed, that alluring quality of his you couldn’t quite put your finger on, he was portrayed the way he was for the public to jeer at. It was human nature to hate those who flourished despite the odds and he was the textbook definition of graceful success. Naturally, they had to disrupt that grace why tainting it with whatever they could.

But it was how he stayed with you for the rest of the evening- or early morning if you were getting technical- at the party, helping you relax into the unfamiliar atmosphere. It was how he didn’t seem to care about the party, although you knew from your research that he was quite the opposite, it was nice of him to pretend like that wasn’t true. It was how he whispered a sweet goodnight to you before you silently climbed to the upper level of the bus and your bed, with that boyish smile you were coming to like just a little too much.

That was why.

“Fuck,” You whispered to yourself, and it sounded a lot louder than it was in the silence of the bus. It was bad because it went a little past just plain attraction. If it was just that, it would have been ten times easier to deal with. You could be attracted to someone without feeling a single thing for them.

But the way his voice went all the way to your stomach and ignited that incessant fluttery feeling you tried so hard to ignore. It went a little past just plain ol’ attraction, but even a little bit was dangerous. The sensation was so unfamiliar in a cold strange way that you didn’t know what you were doing with yourself and for some unknown reason, you couldn’t find even a small remnant of remorse for it.

Just once, you told yourself hopelessly. You would let yourself think about him just once.

“No, no, no, absolutely not Y/n,” You muttered in a half-hearted scolding directed to yourself, but as soon as you said it, you were thinking about the way he held his guitar, and the possibility of that red hair of his being soft at the touch. The pout that rested on his lips when he argued with you or anyone, for the matter, was just so damn charming.

And the smile that teased your lips at that very moment, one that you had to cover by putting your hand over it as if anyone could see you in the darkness of the night. The way you tried so hard to fight the giddy seed that had been planted in your mind, the little schoolgirl giggles that threatened to leave you if you didn’t try hard enough to conceal them. You groaned silently to yourself so as to not wake any of the people sleeping around you, turning to your side and attempting to bury your face in the thin pillow that was no longer cool enough.

Taeyong was layered. Like an onion.

You couldn’t believe that the first description you could think of was lines straight out of Shrek.

Insanity- that’s what this was. You were getting ahead of yourself, in a few months, none of this would matter. You’d write the article, it would get published and you’d get some recognition for it. Your life would go back to the normally boring version of itself and you’d forget about it all once the opportunities started (hopefully) piling in.

There was no reason for this to get personal. You closed your eyes and stilled, holding the pillow you had brought along for yourself between your legs and forcing your brain to stop working overtime.

The first time Taeyong performed professionally was when he was nineteen, bordering twenty. Before they got their record deal, the band practised in garages and their rooms, and it was before Jeno joined. Then they were there, young and inexperienced when it came to the world they had just begun to dip their toes into.

He remembered feeling nervous, tapping his foot on the flooring repeatedly as he sat on the plush couches inside the studio, waiting for instructions. He could never forget how those nerves disappeared the moment he took his place behind the microphone and began singing with the rest of the band like they were never there in the first place.

Irene Bae stood on the other side of the glass, listening in. She was one of the younger managers, being twenty-four at the time, and although she hadn’t had much experience, she knew that Cherry Bomb was the group she wanted to manage and help get to the top. She saw their potential from the get-go and was smart enough to acknowledge that if she was the one in charge, she would reap the benefits as well.

Monroe was the first studio album that they released, and no one could have ever anticipated the success it brought to the table. In typical fashion for young rockstars, most of the songs revolved around drugs or sex but weren’t generic. Euphemisms and imagery floated through the lyrics that they worked hard on, no one could deny the raw talent they possessed.

The lead single of the album, Dark Clouds, debuted at 40 on the Billboard Charts, which was relatively high for a new artist, and it only kept climbing up the charts until it peaked at number two and stayed there for almost five weeks. The tracklist was full of hit after hit, and when you made such an incredible entrance into the scene, you had to expect both sides that came with fame: the good and the downright ugly.

The first time Taeyong ever had to deal with it was a few weeks after the album had been released and he had gone out to McDonald’s because he had been craving a burger. He didn’t think much of it at the time, but going out as a rising rockstar without any security was a stupid move on his part. Within minutes, he had a swarm of fans around him and he hadn’t the slightest clue of what to do, especially when the press showed up to ask him questions about the album.

That piece hadn’t been about anything scandalous, just about the first sighting of him without the rest of his mates. He realized that it didn’t have to be about anything great to be read because Cherry Bomb had become such a hot topic. It just had to be about one of them.

It was the first time he appeared in the papers without the rest of the band- just him. The moment Lee Taeyong became the ‘it boy’ that everyone loved to trail after, searching for something to pin him down with for the public to whisper about.

It was then he knew that his life had changed forever.

Lee Jeno wasn’t as intimidating as Yuta was, you would classify him as the sweetheart of the group. Off the stage, those sharp eyes turned into softer crescents of joy, and that raspy singing voice melted into jokes that suited the freshly turned twenty-one-year-old. By the end, you had forgotten the last few questions you were supposed to ask him, ending up with your hand pressed to your stomach as you tried not to laugh.

You were slowly making your way through each member of the band, procrastinating taking Taeyong’s interview. You didn’t know why you felt like it, but it was a ticking time bomb, and as much as you wanted to know about him, you didn’t want to at all.

God, you were a terrible journalist.

Finishing up, you gathered your things and began your journey back up the stairs to put together the most important bits of Jeno’s interview. You had finally managed to do Yuta’s a while after the night at the party, getting to work after a month of observing. Realistically speaking, you probably should have started a while ago, but it was fine.

“What happened to the original guy?”

Just as you were about to emerge from the stairs, you heard Renjun’s voice resound through the top floor. Instinctively, you stopped climbing and stayed in place as you took note of the slightly hushed tone of voice like he was hiding something.

Then the irony of the situation settled in. This whole eavesdropping thing was quickly developing into a bad habit of yours and you should not have been so ardently encouraging it.

“Yes- no there’s not a problem with her- but I thought you were going to send the person who wrote the article about-”

And then he dropped his voice even softer. Secrets always piqued your interest.

“- the article about Taeyong.”

Your eyes widened and now you knew you had to know more because he was talking about articles and a ‘her’ that you were willing to bet was you. Invested, you crouched down a little and put your stuff down on one of the steps, praying no one would walk up right then and catch you in such an awkward position.

“I’m not upset Mr Suh, just surprised. We had an agreement when I gave you that story, one that ensured you would send over the same person who wrote it anonymously.”

Johnny? Why on earth was Renjun speaking to Johnny? Your insides twisted as a small realization dawned upon you and you were no longer thinking about working on your article. You were thinking about taking a little detour in your research to uncover a suspicion that was quickly growing.

“I’ve taken a risk Johnny,” Renjun continued a little coldly this time as if he was warning your boss not to disappoint. “I expect you to make sure it benefits me as well.”

You decided that this was the point where you would finally make your entrance, it sounded like the call was going to end now anyways. Picking your things back up, you retreated a few steps, ignored the little voice in your head that laughed at how stupid the scene must have looked, and walked back up, purposely being a little loud with your footsteps.

Renjun looked a little spooked when you walked upstairs, but no one would have noticed it if they hadn’t heard the conversation that preceded it. Your signature polite smile made a show as you gave it to him and sat down on your bed. Seeing that you would probably be there for a while, he excused himself.

And then you began. Pieces started falling into place, little things you hadn’t paid enough attention to. You pulled up the research you had done, that one article talking about Taeyong's promiscuity and how it lead to his stardom. Superstar Lee Taeyong sleeping his way to the top.

You couldn’t believe you never paid attention to the fact that it was written anonymously. Moreover, you couldn’t believe that you hadn’t noticed the two little letters at the bottom of the clipping. TL.

The Link. The entire thing had originated under your very nose and you had overlooked that piece of information. Now, each word of the article was something to think about, especially the little bit mentioning an anonymous source.

You couldn’t believe it. The very rumour that had dragged the band down started from the inside.

Loose lips sink ships.

And Renjun had been running his mouth all too gladly. He was their publicist for goodness sake, it made no sense. At the same time, it made perfect sense, a little drama went a long way in the celebrity world.

That pesky guilt from before about what you were doing tightened around you like a lasso, because how were you any different? You were lying in a sense as well, parading around and saying you were here for one thing while doing something else. You were a fraud who had listened in and judged another of your type.

He said something about not expecting it to be you who would come along for the tour, so you racked your brain to figure out why. Johnny knew this and agreed to your demands anyway, so why-

“Jungwoo,” You whispered in realisation. “That fucker.”

Jungwoo was the anonymous writer, you were sure of it. He dropped out last minute, leaving Johnny with no choice but to take what he got. You asked no questions he wasn’t willing to answer because all you had seen was an opportunity to further yourself.

You weren’t naive, you knew that it could still very well be true. Renjun could have told the truth about the band's reason for what seemed like instant stardom to expose them without losing face or his job. Just because it looked like a betrayal done from the inside didn’t mean that it wasn’t warranted.

Your reluctance to get more out of Taeyong burned away, replaced with pure journalistic instinct. You were going to find out what was real and what wasn’t without thinking about your potential feelings. You were a professional, after all, and you were going to prove that the truth was just as good of a story, no matter what that truth turned out to be.

“Did you spend a night in prison?”

Taeyong turned to you, caught off guard at your sudden question. He was sitting in the empty stadium during the break, this time with a guitar in his arms as he mindlessly strummed it to pass the time. One look at him and anyone would know he lived and breathed music in the purest sense, something that was extremely admirable.

You had settled into the seat next to him, a mirror image of your first day together- minus the guitar in his hand and the on-tour lunch that was being handed out that you held. He quirked an eyebrow.

“Been googling me?”

“I have to,” You said immediately, so smoothly that one would have thought it was a rehearsed line, leaning back and getting comfortable in the seat. “Now, is it true?”

“Is this my interview?” He avoided the question once again, mildly amused by how forward you were being. “Where’s your little kit?”

“Perhaps- and my what?”

This was terrible. He had been trying to get you to like him like Irene had requested- well, perhaps not just because Irene had asked him to do so. He was starting to realize that there was a chance that he wanted you to like him as well, and the result of possibly getting an article that would silence all the fake news was just an added benefit.

“You know, journal, recorder, whatever.”

“I’m taking a different approach, now answer my question.”

Oh, the reason he didn’t want to was because of how humiliating the story was but you were staring at him determinedly and he knew he wasn’t going to get out of this one. Sighing, he dropped his head and carefully put the guitar in another seat. For the first time in a long time, he felt an embarrassed blush kiss his cheeks.

“I was barely twenty-one, it’s old news.”

“I’d say you were asking for it,” You said, mouth upturning in amusement at the pink that stained his cheeks. It was cute. “I mean, deciding to go spray painting in the middle of the night on the wall of private property? That’s just dumb.”

He groaned when you oh-so-kindly recounted his misdeed, it had covered the papers for days, which was odd because it wasn’t anything too scandalous- other than it being illegal, of course. It only stopped circulating when Kim Jennie was found making out with Lisa Manoban at a party.

While she had a boyfriend.

Yeah, that was a much juicer story.

“Look,” He attempted to justify his younger self's decision-making skills. “There was this after party that followed this fashion show we had been ford to attend as a part of our schedule, and it was the most boring shit ever. Caviar and champagne. The place was full of opera singers, so you can imagine how we stood out.”

He ducked his head, grimacing at the memory of his teenage self ditching a prestigious event to commit a petty crime for the thrill of it. Immaturity was something he was still trying to grow out of, but that was the price of having to essentially grow up in the public eye.

You didn’t have to imagine, because there were pictures of them at the party before the incident, all wearing dress shirts and trousers. All of them looked much younger, going through a platinum blonde phase for their hair and it was painstakingly obvious that they didn’t fit in with the aristocratic guests at all. You wholeheartedly pitied them when you had seen that image, pulled between sympathising for them and laughing.

Taeyong didn’t understand why he felt the need to explain himself to you, nor did he understand why he felt embarrassed by it, running a hand through his locks. For some unknown reason, your opinion mattered to him, which even sounded ridiculous. Everyone had an opinion about him, and he had never given a flying fuck about them.

Until now, of course.

“I was bored out of my mind. I needed something fun to do, and Yuta was down. We were cellmates too.” He added that bit as a quip to earn something close to amusement from you. When you let out a short laugh, he was pleased that he succeeded. “Then Irene bailed us out.”

Wait, what the hell was he doing? This entire thing was completely out of character for him, he was the one others tried to impress, not the other way around. Never the other way around.

“You’ve been to Milan,” You said to him, childish wonder creeping into the tone of your voice. “All the pictures I’ve seen of the place are so gorgeous. I would die to spend even a day there.”

“Would you be up for a little vandalizing?” He asked hopefully, leaning forward with a shit-eating grin on his face. You threw him a pointed look, shaking your head.

“I said I wanted a day in Milan, Taeyong, not jail.” You deadpanned, pushing down the urge to giggle. Giggle. For goodness sake, it was pathetic, you felt like a giddy schoolgirl with barely any control over her emotions.

You had decided to go forward with grilling Taeyong for your article, determined to get to the bottom of your little side quest. Taking a bite out of the less than appetizing catered lunch, you shifted in your seat so that you were facing him a little better, moving on to the next question.

“Did you fake date Kang Seulgi?”

“You’re very chatty today, aren’t you?” He muttered just loud enough for you to hear, “I feel like I’m on trial.”

“It’s my job to grill answers out of you,” You winked playfully, earning a petulant look from his end as if he was offended at that statement of yours. Your mind wandered a little and before you could hold it by the reins and keep it back, it wandered a little too far, the sides of your lips curling upwards in a small smile.

“And here I thought you were actually interested in me,” He teased, and now it was you who felt flushed, but not out of embarrassment.

Then you went back to thinking sensibly with your head. “What do you expect me to do? Ask you to teach me how to play the guitar?” You offered him a sardonic smile as you gave up on the baked potato and cold mac-n-cheese that sat sadly on your paper plate, keeping it in another empty seat.

“I could if you wanted me to,” he mused, deciding to throw you off a little for fun.

You blinked in bewilderment at the offer. “What? No, I was just-” You scrambled to get out of the situation you had somehow managed to fall in (literally and figuratively), shaking your head adamantly at him. “I couldn’t-”

And then you noticed the way he had his fist over his mouth, eyes alight with pure amusement and when a small snicker left those pretty crimson lips of his, you narrowed your eyes at him.

“You’re laughing at me.” You said flatly, a sulky pout taking shape on your lips, “You’re making fun of me.”

“I couldn’t help it, you looked so distressed. It was…..it was cute.”

Oh. Oh hell no. You were practically yelling at yourself so you wouldn’t get carried away, no doubt several girls had heard the very same compliment from him. As if sensing your mental conflict, Taeyong simpered and continued speaking.

“And yes, her management begged us for the deal because her album hadn’t done as well as it had to. At all. In fact, it flopped hard. The publicity stunt had her sales skyrocket back to normal, but you can never trust anyone when it comes to arrangements like these. One snitch and the entire thing can fall apart.”

What.

Oh right. Seulgi. You nodded, his words ringing loud and clear in the chambers of your mind. The tone of his voice was casual, but there was an undertone of bitterness, so slight that you would have missed it if you hadn’t been paying attention.

You couldn’t imagine how he would feel when he learned of what Renjun did to him, to the entirety of the band. Even worse, you couldn’t imagine how he would react when he found out what you were working on because you had a feeling he had given you more than he had ever given anyone else.

“Ah,” You said quietly, swallowing the lump in your throat. “There’s an untold story behind every exploited one.”

Taeyong would never understand how you had managed to sum it all up in just a few words. It was like you had somehow managed to see right through him, and that scared him just a little. His years in the spotlight had taught him how to be guarded, and how to know just how much to give and take from the public.

What was scarier, was the fact that you were a part of the media. It was never a good idea to let them have any leverage over you.

“Yeah,” He whispered, gripping the neck of the guitar as gently as possible. “Most of the time they ignore it. Unfortunately.”

Celebrities like him were expected to bask in everything that was sent their way, even the scandals that did not benefit them in the slightest. The public was of the opinion that because he had fame, he deserved everything that came with it.

You were looking at him like you knew he had received the short end of the stick many times before, a look that had his throat closing in on itself, but he didn’t look away. He hadn’t even once thought about looking away.

“I’m sorry,” You said softly, apologetically. Part of you felt guilty that you were one of those very people that exploited him, but you had to push that out of your mind to halt that train of thought before it consumed you. He forced himself to break the little spell that had been cast over the two of you, snapping out of your pseudo-staring competition and pulling the guitar back into his lap, strumming it mindlessly. You let your gaze fall from his face to the instrument.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Teach me how to play the guitar- at least a few chords. I heard somewhere that you could do a lot of songs with just four of them.”

He raised an eyebrow, mirth dancing in his eyes. “You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?”

You pulled a knee to your chest, “I like keeping people on their toes.” Your answer seemed to please him because he chuckled and then picked the guitar up once again, using one hand to signal you to sit straight in the seat, before placing it on your lap. It was a little awkward for you, someone who had never really held a guitar before, so you sat there and timidly held the top of it, waiting for his instructions.

“Those four chords you’re talking about? They’re C, G, F major and A minor.” He gently picked your other hand up and placed it on the fretboard, glancing up at your face to see if you were okay with the contact. There was something magical about his touch, which lingered on your fingertips, and you nodded softly, eyes locked with his.

Electric ever so slightly, the air between the two of you had a buzzing you couldn’t quite pinpoint. Slowly, he looked away and back at your hand, positioning each finger on the respective string it was supposed to be on. Once he was done, he leaned back a bit and placed his thumb on the first string.

“Push down on them,” He murmured, and as you did, he dragged his own fingers across them, over the hollow part of the guitar, producing music.

It wasn’t perfect, you still didn’t know how to hold the strings down hard enough, your fingers hurt a little from even that first attempt and in reality, you should have been the one strumming, but it faded into the background when your heart stuttered a little with how he was looking at you.

Oh no.

Was this what a crush felt like? Apprehensive glances and short breaths, anticipation spilling over, it was absolutely unbearable for you.

“I might need a little practice,” you said cautiously, loosening your grip on the strings and finally registering the strain on your fingertips, cursing under your breath and bringing them up to your face to inspect them. A soft red hue gleamed through your skin, stinging ever so slightly at the parts that had been indented by the strings.

“Yeah,” He replied, just as soft. “It hurts at the start but after a while you barely notice it. I think you’ll have to use a pick” Both of you were skirting around the obvious tension, choosing to ignore it when there was no good reason to.

“Show me the next one,” You managed to blurt out, trying desperately to break this pattern of getting so easily winded around him. Every moment you spent with him had you repeatedly reminding yourself of what you were actually here for, what you were meant to do because never, never in your entire life, had you ever met someone as magnetic as Lee Taeyong.

And so he did, the next thirty minutes passing by in a blur or strumming and pressing down strings on the fret until your fingers hurt and the scene of him and you sitting there burned into your memory even as you fell asleep that night.

And then, you were in New York.

CHERRY BOMB SOLD OUT IN NEW YORK CITY!

The Grammy-winning rock group has been steadily growing since their first show and is now the one that claims ownership of the audience of fifty-eight thousand fans that showed up at their show last night, truly the Cherry On Top! As usual, the five men were excellent on stage, their showmanship making it clear why all those seats had filled up so quickly. No doubt some fans didn’t manage to get one, which only cements how successful the group is.

We have been saying this for years and it only holds true; we cannot wait to see where Cherry Bomb takes us!

- The New York Times.

Taeyong would admit that sometimes, he did let things go a little too far.

Now, the New York show had been the biggest one yet, with the entire stadium filled up and not a seat left empty and more than a week to spend in the city, he let himself loose for the night after the show. The success of the show and the adrenaline pumping through their veins led them to spend all that excess energy at yet another party.

When alcohol was bought into the mix, perhaps he got a little too drunk. He wouldn’t know how exactly to classify it because he had been wasted before, and this wasn’t it. He could still stand and think semi-clearly, good enough to make his own decisions. Well enough to know that the girl on his arm had definitely been flirting with him.

Conscious enough to know what she wanted when she asked him if he wanted to get out of there. Alert enough to remember exactly what happened the night before in that strange woman's bed, and by no means was this the first time something like it had happened.

Yuta had indulged as well, he could tell by the scattering of darker marks on the younger neck. He knew the both of them had somehow been caught by a lurking reporter that managed to get to the site of the party and caught a few pics of them walking away. Maybe he would see himself in the next issue of the paper, accompanied by a nice side of his manager yelling at him for getting caught.

It was a cycle, an exhausting one, but he kept at it anyways.

He would worry about that later. At this point in time, when he walked out of the shower right then in the morning and took a Tylenol for the mild hangover that he had, before making his way up the stairs and to the top floor of the bus.

There you sat, legs crossed over each other with one of your pillows resting on top of them to act as a makeshift table for your laptop, which you were intently staring at, looking very immersed in whatever you were reading. He took a moment to admire how focused you were, eyebrows furrowed and lips set in the slightest pout as the bright blue light of your screen shone on your face.

Suddenly, it made sense why his hook-up last night felt a little more meaningless than it usually did anyway.

“Hey,” His voice cut through your reverie, making you startle a little as you looked up. There you saw a casually dressed Taeyong with hair that was slightly damp leaning against the frame of the wall. “Are you doing anything important right now?”

You shook your head a little too quickly for your liking, “Not really, just going over a little research, why?” You tried your best to sound as nonchalant and uninterested as possible, more to convince yourself than him. The pleased look that appeared on his face almost broke your resolve.

“Good,” He tipped his head towards the side, and you followed his line of sight to your suitcase. “Get ready and meet me outside in ten.”

You blinked rapidly, successfully confused with his instructions. “I’m sorry?”

“Get dressed and meet me outside the bus in ten minutes, I’m taking you out.”

You never had been very good with abrupt plans, and Taeyong threw you off your normal course enough as it is. Sceptical, and rightfully so, you asked, “Out where?”

“Trust me a little, will you?” He bargained, pushing himself off the wall he was leaning on, “No questions, this isn’t one of your interviews.”

Without letting you respond, he walked back downstairs, leaving you there to stare at his retreating figure in mystification. That sentiment turned into exasperation at yourself for being so easily swayed, picking yourself up from the bed and going to do just as he asked of you because goddamnit, you were admittedly curious.

Pulling on something casual enough to look like you hadn’t tried hard enough but cute enough to perhaps receive a compliment, you grabbed your stuff and walked out of the tour bus, spotting Taeyong waiting for you as he scrolled through his phone. His other hand held a cigarette between his fingers, one he promptly put out when he noticed you arriving. Your mother would have given you a sharp talking to for agreeing to blindly follow a man, which was why you refused to completely let him have control.

You jogged over to catch up with him, coming to a standstill and asking, “Where are we going?”

“You never give up, do you?” He switched his phone off and slipped it into the pockets of his jeans, feigning annoyance at your persistence, although you could tell it was fake. “Are you sure you want to know? It’ll ruin the magic.”

“Magic?” “You know, the magic of surprises?”

You had to press your lips together in an attempt not to smile at how cute that sounded coming from him. The magic of surprises? What was he, a five-year-old? Now you wanted to see how he would act when in Disney World. From what you gathered, he’d probably buy all ninety-eight variations of the mickey mouse ear headbands. That image alone was too much for you, and you pushed it to the back of your mind.

“I like having all my facts straight before I jump into anything,” You stated plainly, giving him an expectant look. He sighed, as if growing weary of your prompt responses, and then-

No way.

Was Taeyong blushing? Your eyes could have very well been tricking you, but you swore you saw a light dusting of pink on his cheeks, perhaps out of embarrassment of what he was about to tell you.

“You said you wanted to travel…..” He trailed off, averting his eyes from you. You weren’t used to this side of him, away from the ever-present (or so you thought) confident smirk that played on his lips and the lazy amusement in his eyes. Here, you saw a boy that was a little bashful about his intentions. “And I thought I could show you around a few places in New York.”

You didn’t know how to respond to that one, staring at him in a mixture of question and bafflement over why he would want to do that. As if sensing your perplexion, he continued.

“I mean, I felt bad that you were being dragged along with us to all these places but was forced to stick around only us and we have a week in the city so I just figured you would like to see the place.” He was rambling a little bit, explaining his reasoning for what he was going and you couldn’t even lie to yourself, because you melted a little at how thoughtful it was.

“That sounds great,” You cut him off with a grateful smile, tucking your hands behind your back and bouncing a little on your heels. Relieved by your positive reaction, he let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding in.

“Alright, follow me.”

He pulled a cap low over his head so that it cast a shadow over his face and obscured his features to an extent. He was still recognizable, but one would have to double-take to make it out.

Oh right, he was famous. The reality of that started to weigh a little more now that it was in your face and you were forced to acknowledge it since most of the time it was easy to get carried away with everything that happened on tour. You felt a little ridiculous for momentarily forgetting an integral part of who he was.

But you followed him anyway, out onto the unfamiliar streets of New York where cars whirred by in a blur of red and blue, the bright lights flashing even in the daytime. Cacophony drifted through the air like a song, but it could have very well been out of tune considering you didn’t know much about music. You wondered if Taeyong could hear it as well and if it made more sense to him.

It stunned you a little, just how much you wanted to know about his thoughts.

“There isn’t nearly enough time to show you everything I want to in one day, so I’m going to take you to two places I like best if that’s okay with you?” The smile on his face was small, bashful even, but it was enough to have your thoughts scatter and for you to bite your lip as you nodded slowly.

His eyes lit up and you were seriously amused by how enthralled he seemed to be about the entire situation like he truly did want to show you around. He wasn’t doing this to be perceived as a nice guy, he remembered the little, insignificant fact about yourself that you told him weeks later and was now acting upon it.

If only the tabloids could see this side of him and talk about it instead, the gentler, sweeter side that you were discovering bit by bit, instead of the rogue party animal that they usually plastered all over their front pages.

“It’s perfect,” You said, voice coming out a little breathless. He grinned and called for a cab, gentlemanly holding out the door for you to get in first, following suit. “Do I get any more information about this surprise?”

He shot you a disapproving look, “It wouldn’t be much of a surprise then, would it?”

“I appreciate the sentiment of giving me a surprise but I’m inquisitive!” The small, indignant pout on your lips almost elicited a laugh from his end, but he stood his ground and shook his head.

“No can do, sweetheart, you’re just going to have to trust me.”

And how could you not relent when he called you that so naturally, his voice lilting a little in a teasing manner? It didn’t mean anything, but you liked it anyways, a lot more than you cared to admit.

The first place he took you was the Museum of Modern Art, which puzzled you a tad because of how ordinary it seemed and how risky it was with all the tourists and locals that frequented the place. At any moment, someone could notice him and that would only lead to further complications that you did not want to think about.

After getting tickets to enter the place, you found yourself thrust into a world of colour and portraits, pieces of art that were probably worth more than your entire college tuition. Some looked oddly normal like they didn’t belong in a museum of all places, but they were placed near what you could only describe as masterpieces. A striking contrast, to say the least.

“Every time we’re in NYC, I come here,” Taeyong explained as the two of you walked around the place, hands casually tucked into his pockets as those expressive eyes of his wandered the artistry that spanned before them.

You could tell something important was coming. “Why?” He let out a soft sigh, not sparing you a glance just yet, still focused on a specific piece in front of you, but you were only looking at him, patiently waiting. He had never had someone wait as you did, it had always ever been question after question, rushed and insincere, impersonal in a way that had him feeling comforted.

Or maybe that was just because he was used to that. It was no secret he liked the attention, it was just who he was, but having your attention on him was a completely different story, a completely different type of liking attention.

“For perspective.”

You didn’t quite understand what he meant by that and hummed in question. “Perspective?” “I express my feelings and my state of mind with music, but not everyone does that. Poetry, paintings, sculptures, whatever the hell that is,” He pointed to something that looked like a paper mache of a leg from the knee down in crocs. “There are different ways to feel and explain things, even when it seems impossible to do so. Coming here always….helps when I’m having a musical block.”

And pay attention you did, because you knew there was something he was holding back, so you used your old tactic of staying silent to draw out more from a person.

“Cherry Bomb turns five soon,” He said, voice nearing a whisper at this point. “And I’m grateful- so fucking grateful that we’ve managed to stay on top for so long- but I can’t help but think about there being a time where we lose it all. When we’re not the best and can’t climb back up there, what then?”

Your heart broke a little when you heard how vulnerable he sounded at that. How real he was and how passionate he was about his band.

Taeyong was such a colourful person- something like a saturated sunrise- the type of person to always stand out from among the crowd, set apart from them. The true masterpiece that roamed the halls of the MoMA.

“I don’t dwell on it for long, it’s like a phase I go through from time to time,” He laughed bitterly. “Mostly when I’m having a musical block, as I mentioned before, but when I come here and remind myself that there are different approaches to things I……I get over it, I guess.”

There was a certain element of weariness laced into his words, barely noticeable in the grand scheme of things, but it was as clear as day to you. He was tired of indulging in that cycle of doubting himself over and over again, finally getting over it, only to return to it a few months later.

“You’re forgetting something.” You weren’t sure why you were so adamant about taking that ugly thought of his away from him. He finally looked back at you, raising an eyebrow.

“I am?”

Nodding solemnly, you gave him a half smile, standing a little straighter as your fingers curled into a fist at your sides. “Some pieces and artists are timeless. I think Cherry Bomb is one of them.”

You were so perfect, somehow knowing exactly what to say when he needed it most. He came to the MoMA for perspective and this time it wasn’t where he got that change of outlook from. This time, it was from you, even if you didn’t know how much that had comforted him- how much you had comforted him.

What a mesmerising lie this was.

A gentle beam pulled at the sides of his lips as he let what you said to hang in the air for a moment or two, disgesting it. He wondered if he would ever have to come back here again after meeting you because you sounded so much more appealing to him, and when he glanced back at the art piece, he snapped out of his self-induced reverie and asked.

“Are you hungry?”

Taeyong took you to a little café in Brooklyn, claiming it as the second spot he had set out to introduce you to in the morning. It was a rustic place, but pleasingly so, with little fairy lights hanging from over the display counter and soft jazz music playing in the background, the smell of pastries and bread wafting through the air, leaving you to inhale big gulps of air to savour it.

There weren’t many savoury options on the small menu they had, so you settled on a brownie and a normal coffee, playing it safe. Taeyong ordered a latte and a cheesecake without even looking at the options they had, and it reminded you that he too had roots in some places, even if his life seemed to be all over the place.

“I have a big sweet tooth,” He admitted when your food arrived, finally taking his cap off and revealing his head of messy hair, some of which stuck out endearingly in different directions. He ran his fingers through it to smoothen it out right as you fought the urge to do it yourself, curling your fingers around the handle of your cup of coffee instead to keep them occupied.

“I can tell,” You spoke, taking a sip of the bitter liquid that so soothingly kissed your throat. “So, why this place?”

He dug his fork into his cheesecake, cutting it and scooping the smaller piece up. “Because the owners didn’t know who I was.” Then he frowned, “Wait, I could have worded that better. I sound like some self-absorbed idiot, but yeah, they didn’t know who I was and I liked that I didn’t have to disguise myself here. And their apple pie is really good.”

He added that last bit like it was the most important thing to mention out of everything, eating the morsel on his fork. Digging into your cake, your eyes widened when the taste finally registered.

“Holy shit,” You mumbled, “This is amazing.” Swallowing, you licked your lips to make sure there were no crumbs stuck to them. “Now, back to those disguises you mentioned.”

Taeyong pursed his lips to keep his smile at bay at your endearing curiosity, “I don’t exactly have the luxury of being able to go out and not get swarmed.”

“Come on, you have to give me something to work with here. You can’t just mention disguises and not elaborate,” You prodded further, your natural curiosity taking over, but not for business purposes, you genuinely wanted to know more about him. And then, you promptly took another bite because god dammit, that brownie really was fantastic.

“I mean, hats are the norm,” He motioned to the bucket hat that he kept on his side of the table, part of which was handing off the edge, but he made no move to pull it back in. “But once I had to wear a curly wig and one of those fake moustaches. Not something I’d ever want anyone to see but it worked since no one did.”

The image that popped up in your mind was much too comical for you to even think about trying to hold back the chuckle that escaped you at that moment, and he shot you a playful glare, warning you under his breath. “Don’t.”

“How can I not?” You asked, trying your best not to snicker, “I have to see this for myself.”

“Over my dead body.”

Your pleas fell on deaf ears as you tried to coax him to show you a picture if he had one, to no avail. Being out of the tour bus, away from everyone and just the two of you was refreshing, you could tell he was a little more relaxed in the café. It suddenly occurred to you that even among his band mates he had to keep a sort of mask on, after all, he was the leader and the person who had formed the group in the first place. Most of the time, the responsibility fell onto his shoulders.

Something deep inside you appreciated the fact that he felt comfortable enough to let go in front of you.

And thats when a twinge of remorse pinched you, the sting so faint but definitely there. It had been making itself at home within your body and it was entirely unwelcome. Taking a sip of coffee to drown it out, gripped the handle of the mug tighter than you usually would as if compensating for what your conscious was trying to tell you.

When he cracked a joke and you laughed along, indulging in a conversation with him that seemed to flow so easily, and when he insisted on paying even when you argued that you could very well do so for yourself, it told you something else.

It told you that this entire day felt like a date.

And it shouldn’t have, you told yourself repeatedly while you walked back out, falling into step with him on the footpaths. The sun was dipping below the high point that it hit during the afternoons, hiding behind the wispy clouds that seemed to caress the preeminent tips of the skyscrapers.

You had to remind yourself that he was known for being the guy that walked out of places with a girl hanging off his shoulder, the one that everyone somehow found themselves infatuated with, and the fact that you could understand why they were irking you. You were never supposed to let yourself get swept away in his current so easily, but you hadn’t anticipated it being so strong.

Walking with you felt natural like he could close his eyes for just a minute and pretend that he wasn’t Lee Taeyong, Cherry Bomb’s leader that tended to find trouble. He was just Taeyong and he didn’t know why he found that so appealing.

It’s funny how even the smallest thing can derail an entire experience, no?

Taeyong stopped walking, setting his jaw once he noticed it. He was about to raise his hand to his head to check if he was wearing his bucket hat, but thats when he realized it was in the palm of his hand- he had forgotten to put it back on.

“Taeyong?” You furrowed your eyebrows when you realized he wasn’t moving anymore, a faraway look in his eyes. “Are you oka-” You trailed off when you followed his line of sight, not really knowing what you were looking at until you saw the smallest flash.

Oh.

He reached out and slipped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer in a way that shielded your face from the camera- or cameras, who knew- and lowered his head until his lips were just barely brushing against your earlobe. The contact had you suck in a breath, registering the warmth of his fingers through the thin fabric of your tee-shirt, just barely there.

“You wanted excitement, hm?” Your eyes widened and he slipped his hand down to yours, intertwining your fingers and giving you one of those cocksure looks of his. The way your hand fit in perfectly with his, interlocked as they had always meant to be like that made you want to keep it like that forever.

“How does running from the paparazzi sound?”

And then, before you could even think about responding to that suggestion of his, he pulled you along, breaking into a sprint that you had no choice but to join him in. Like clockwork, the cameras and reporters that were trailing you silently came out of hiding to follow suit, knowing that even a few words from the man you were with were going to be extremely valuable.

The thing about spur-of-the-moment decisions was that they always felt exhilarating, a feeling that would forever be arduous to put into words because there didn’t seem to be any that were good enough for the description. The monotone yet stunning city around you faded away as you focused on the equally, if not more, stunning man in front of you.

He turned around to glance back at you as the both of you took off, and it was then you caught the grin he wore on his face, the sparkling in his eyes that told you that he too felt the same rush you did. It wasn’t the first time he had ever experienced it, but now that you were there, it felt different, like it was familiar in a foreign sense. Your smaller hand grasped his with such trust that you knew he would somehow manage to extract the two of you out of the situation, cold against his warmer one.

You didn’t think you had ever seen something as enchanting as Taeyongs smile, even though you could barely focus on it right then. From the way, the edges of his mouth dug into the crevice of his face and little dimples popped up on his cheeks to the crinkling of the skin around his eyes in joy.

Spotting a cab on the side of the street, he slowed down and prompted you to do so as well, stopping near it and deftly opening the door to the backseat to help you inside. You did so wordlessly, but your breathing had turned a little shallow from the small sprint and you couldn’t relax just yet, watching anxiously through the glass of the car to see the press closen in.

“Drive,” He instructed the man in the front, who was evidently surprised at the sudden occupying of his cab. Stammering, he twisted the keys in the ignition.

“Where to, sir?”

“JUST DRIVE!” Taeyong raised his voice to express his urgency. “Please, as fast as you can and away from here.”

The entire thing was bizarre, and then when the car started moving in the opposite direction to the paparazzi following you, you finally leaned back in the rough faux leather seats. You allowed yourself to glance to your side at the man by your side, who always seemed to finally be relaxing, and when his eyes met yours, there was a beat of silence.

And then you began laughing.

The sound came out a lot louder than you thought it would, but you couldn’t stop, hand pressed to your stomach in an attempt to control yourself. The rush of adrenaline had resulted in everything seeming so funny to you, because who would have ever expected you of all people to be running away from the paparazzi with a world-famous rockstar by your side? Even the concept was outlandish.

When Taeyong laughed along with you, you stopped trying to hold your amusement back. You let yourself lean into him in a mixture of bafflement and hilarity, moving your hand to cover your mouth to stifle the giggles that left it.

“That was insane!” You exclaimed breathily, looking up at him. “My god.”

He had been worried for a minute there when he got into the cab, worried that you would have thought he was too much trouble, and it would have been warranted too, but the way you were looking at him right then like you would give anything to experience that again, assured him that wasn’t the case. Right then, it was the first time he noticed just how infectious your laughter was, and he was proud to be at least partly the cause of it.

“Exciting enough?” He asked hopefully, and you nodded enthusiastically, drunk off the feeling

“I know you probably deal with that a lot,” You said between breaths, “But that was a once-of-a-lifetime experience for me.”

The contrast of your two lives hammered against each other but you had somehow managed to find a sliver of common ground. While he loved attention, he had gotten annoyed over never being able to do normal things alone over the years, but for the first time in what seemed like forever, it didn’t feel like that.

“Hey, aren’t you one of those guys from that band? My daughter loves you.”

The driver’s New York drawl cut through the little bubble that encased the two of you, and Taeyong smiled and winked. “Tell her she has good taste.”

“Think I can get an autograph for her?” The driver picked a small piece of paper from the cupholder beside him, one that looked like a parking ticket and turned it over, handing it to Taeyong when the singer nodded. “Gimme a sec to find a pen, she better not give me that attitude of hers ever again after this!”

He signed the ticket- with such fluidity that it left you to watch in awe at how natural it was- and gave it back, telling the driver the destination as well, which was the stadium at which the buses were parked.

When you were back, Irene stood there with her trademark glare plastered across her face. Doyoung looked a little baffled, but only shot Taeyong a look that you couldn’t decipher. The latter ignored both, walking with you into the bus. There were so many people and he still somehow managed to make you feel like the only person in the world, and you found yourself hoping that running from the paparazzi with him wouldn’t just be a one-time thing.

“Thank you,” You said sincerely, “For today, I mean.”

“Don’t mention it,” He waved it off, but you shook your head, reaching out and grabbing his hand once again. The act caught him off guard, but he didn’t once pull away or even attempt to do so.

“I want to mention it Taeyong, it might not seem like much to you but….you gave me a part of my dream. You deserve to be thanked for that.” You had so many dreams, some being much too big for your own good, but today felt like you were finally inching closer to one of them instead of only being in the process of doing so.

He squeezed your hand. “And you should never have to thank me for that.”

Right then, it was when the anvil of guilt settled deep in the pit of your stomach because it was then you knew that you couldn’t write that exposé, even if Johnny had said it wasn’t one. When you were good at what you did, you learned to read in between the lines, and this article was exactly that- one that was supposed to be written to fuck over Cherry Bomb.

LEE TAEYONG SNUGGLING UP IN NEW YORK CITY!

We’ve seen him stumble out of bars and parties with a girl, but never during the day! Folks, this might be the first time we’ve ever seen the twenty-three-year-old heartthrob looking relatively sober with the opposite sex!

They were first spotted at a café, though due to the angle at which the pictures were taken you cannot see the woman’s face, it was definitely Lee sitting opposite her as the two chatted amicably, before leaving to walk with each other until they realized they were being followed and made a run for it.

He seemed protective of the girl, going so far as to make sure no one caught her face, which begs the question: who is she? Who is the possible woman who has managed to incite such a reaction in Lee Taeyong? More importantly, is there a possibility of romance on the horizon for the rockstar? All these questions that we are just dying to find out!

- Rolling Stone.

There was a certain fragility in being presented with something you were supposed to be good at, only to come out of the act fruitless.

With your fingertips pressed to the keys of your laptop, you seemed to forget every piece of knowledge you possessed on the art of writing, your mind going blank as you stared at the empty document that seemed to mock you. Words expertly evaded you and every sentence that you tried putting out sounded wrong.

Now, how were you to write an article that was supposed to deliver the truth while sounding sure of itself when you didn’t hold those sentiments just yet? It was a near impossible feat, and you sighed frustratedly, pressing down onto the keys and producing an incoherent string of letters that meant nothing, which was oddly fitting to your state of mind right then.

When you were younger and in college, you had prided yourself on being one of the best writers on the college paper, with a talent to compile research and information interestingly. It was what helped you through your first months working at The Link when the only topics you got were uninteresting ones.

You have always been a driven person, determined to reach your goals by any means possible. The first great article you had written was for the college paper in your freshman year and had been a ruthless piece about the best player on the soccer team using steroids. The team hated you after that since it had cost them their winning streak, but the editor of the paper at the time absolutely adored you for it.

That experience was the one from which you learned that the journalism industry lived off stepping on others’ toes, whether your intentions were right or wrong. You tried your best to ignore the selfish side of journalism, but it made you a hypocrite because you had always been the type of person to strive for what she wanted no matter the consequences it had for others.

It was at times like these when you truly hated writing. You hated what it could potentially turn people into.

“Y/n?”

You looked up to see Huang Renjun standing there, holding what looked like a magazine with a concerned look on his face. Ever since the day you had overheard his conversation with your boss, you had done your best to steer clear of the man to avoid complicating things for yourself.

“Yes?” You had no choice but to entertain him now, unfortunately, since the best of the band was at rehearsals and you were alone on the bus- save for Renjun, of course. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” He shook his head from side to side at first, before changing the direction and bobbing it up and down. “Yes, actually, I need to talk to you for a minute.”

Most people would have asked for that minute, but Renjun simply demanded it. You supposed that being a publicist had instilled that sense of entitlement in him, or maybe it was just a quality that he was required to have, to be able to grasp the attention of those he spoke to and lay down the rules he expected to be followed.

You momentarily wondered if that was how he managed to not be caught for what he had done yet, recollecting the wording he had used with Johnny. Smiling, you nodded and closed your laptop just enough to silently give him the respect he desired while talking to you, but open enough so that the light from the screen didn’t go out.

“Of course, go ahead.” The repeated warning of having to remain professional rang in your head and it was at that exact moment when you registered that you barely told yourself to do so around the band, and never around Taeyong.

“Well, this article was released today and I think you’re the woman in the pictures attached,” He said nervously, handing it over. You narrowed your eyes and scanned the words, before acknowledging the slightly blurry pictures of you and Taeyong, one with his arm around your waist and the other with your hands joined together. Your face wasn’t visible in either, thankfully.

“Oh,” You said a little awkwardly. “Yes that is me, he wanted to show me this café he liked and we weren’t as careful as we should have been. I’m sorry if this causes any trouble.” Your apology was genuine, and Renjun couldn’t help but sigh.

“You…..know why you’re here, right?”

It was the way he said it that put you off, cautious and calculating like he was testing you. Funnily enough, you were set out to fail, and you were a-okay with it.

“To write an article,” You said plainly and the expression on his face switched like he had put on a mask, forcing a smile that was painfully polite, before thanking you and leaving. You had confirmed his fear, that you had no clue what was going on.

Unbeknownst to you, Taeyong was being talked to by Irene, and the conversation had started out similarly enough, before taking an entirely different direction.

“Is that you with Y/n on here?”

Taeyong nodded, though it was a little noncommittal.

“And you were so careless that you were caught by the very people you’re not supposed to?” She was tapping her foot on the ground backstage impatiently now, one hand resting on her hip and the other holding the magazine. Between rehearsals, she had dragged him off stage to confront him about what had happened.

“Yep, sorry about that, by the way. I just wanted to hang out with her for a bit.” He didn’t need Irene to tell him he had fucked up, he knew that well enough for himself. He just thought that it had been worth it considering the reaction it had pulled out of you.

His manager stayed silent, and he mentally prepared himself for yet another one of her exasperated scoldings that she kept specially for him. While he did that, he glanced longingly out at the stage where the rest of his mates practised their parts, simpering a tad at how it sounded a little empty without him. That was one thing he always loved about the band, the fact that without one of them, it didn’t sound like Cherry Bomb. They were a team to the very end.

“Thats….actually genius.”

Pure confusion took over as he frowned. It sounded like a compliment, but he couldn’t be too sure since it felt like he should have been in trouble for being reckless again. “I’m sorry?”

“I said, it’s genius. Winning the journalist over? Amazing!” She clapped gleefully, all signs of apparent agitation missing from her face, before sobering up once again. “I know I’m hard on you Taeyong, but I have noticed the effort you’ve made this time around.”

(He decided to not tell her about the time he took you to a party where Mark and Yuta smoked a joint in front of you.)

Had he made an effort? He didn’t know considering it wasn’t like he had been making a conscious effort to do so by any means. What he did know was that he didn’t like the implications that came with what Irene was saying, the implication that he was putting up a front to get a good ‘review’, in a sense, out of you.

Taeyong was not doing that. He genuinely wanted to show you the two places he treasured the most in New York and liked talking to you. He liked the way you smiled first with your eyes and then with your mouth, always in that order. If it was with your mouth first, it was a fake smile.

“Right,” He said haltingly. “Thank you? I feel bad about causing a commotion though, I know you hate dating scandals.”

That was right, Irene hated when Taeyong was pulled into dating scandals because of how often it happened. People loved speculating about who he could possibly be with and it had always been wrong. He had never done relationships, he was in a committed one with his guitar and music.

“I do, but I’ll let it slide this time, especially since I don’t think it will turn into one.” The grin she wore was larger than life itself, “Winning her over is the smartest thing you could possibly do, and don’t worry too much about the repercussions. You did that café a favour if anything. Their business is going to boom.”

He was happy about that, of course, he was, but all he could hope for was that it wouldn’t lose its charm. He also knew that he had to keep everyone happy, something that was so impossible for one person to do, but it was a burden he had to carry anyway. He nodded. “She seemed happy, so I’d say I won her over.”

“Good,” Irene smiled proudly, and the expression didn’t give him that gratifying feeling it once did.

Insomnia was turning out to be a good friend of yours.

You had read somewhere that the human brain was set in a way that when a question was proposed to it, it always wanted to find an answer, like a computer that had been programmed to do so. Some people used that to their advantage while studying, and it was a very effective method from what you had seen.

Right now though, you weren’t too pleased considering it was why you were lying awake in your tiny little bed. Your mind was racing and begging for answers you didn’t have to satiate it, and you were left being restless, trying to ignore the itch that wouldn’t go away no matter how much you tried to calm it down.

Goddamnit.

You sat up, a disgruntled expression on your face as you did so, trying to ignore the prickle of goosebumps that had appeared on your arms and the dryness in your throat, but when the cold nipped at your skin harshly, you decided it was time to solve both those problems. Throwing your legs over the side of the small bed, you got to your feet and then immediately crouched as you approached your suitcase, slowly unzipping it and producing a sweater.

Once you had put it on, you stood up and softly padded down the stairs to the small kitchen on the bus to grab yourself some water.

At first, you went straight to the kitchen, finding the cupboard that held the glasses with little trouble, poured yourself a glass of water and sipped it with every intention of going straight back to bed and forcing yourself to succumb to sleep. You liked to sleep, sleep was good and kept you from being irritable during the day.

But when you stood at the doorframe of the kitchen, it was then you noticed the dim lights and the silhouette sitting on the floor; a silhouette that had been haunting your thoughts for a better part of the two months you had spent on this tour trying to ignore it. You sucked in a breath, before finally succumbing to all the questions your mind was throwing at you.

Stupid brain.

You had to know the truth for it had been eating at you for so long now, and you were going to get it right now.

“Taeyong?” At your soft voice, the man looked up, squinting slightly to make out your figure in the darkness. In one hand he held a glass of some alcoholic drink and in the other something that looked like a cigarette- or maybe it was a pencil. You couldn’t be too sure.

“Y/n,” He said your name slowly, deliberatively even. “Hey.”

He sat on the floor, legs bent at the knees with his arms resting on them casually, the sight strangely domestic. The slight shiver that raked down your spine at his voice always managed to take you by surprise, no matter how many times it happened.

“What are you doing up?” You started with the simplest question you could come up with, taking his greeting as an invitation to join him. Despite your glass being almost empty, you carried it with you anyway as you settled down beside him. He shrugged, taking a sip of the golden liquid that swirled in the glass he held before placing it down.

“Got inspired for some lyrics, what’s your excuse?” He waved to the small journal in front of him with his other hand, his tone light-hearted. It was a pencil.

‘You’ was the honest answer your brain presented you to that question. “Couldn’t sleep,” was the pathetic excuse you ended up going with. Suddenly, the lower section of the tour bus seemed a little too empty, and you peered through the darkness, noticing that it was because no one else was there. “Where is everyone?”

“Out,” He said, waving his hand about aimlessly. “Getting high or something, I don’t know.”

“You’re not with them,” you observed, saying it like a statement even though it was more of a prompt for him to elaborate on. He raised his glass with a wry smile, tilting his head towards it.

“I wanted to work on a song, but it doesn’t mean I’m going to miss out on the fun,” he leaned back a little against the couch and sighed. You were at a loss for words at what to say because there was no easy way to approach and tackle the subject that you most wanted to in a tactful manner. “I guess I just wanted to be alone for a bit.”

“Oh,” you felt a little idiotic right then. “Sorry, I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Don’t,” he cut you off immediately. “Stay. My inspiration lasted about ten minutes before it fizzled out.”

“What usually inspires you?” You prodded, pulling your knees to your chest and resting your cheek against them so you could watch him, interlocking your warm fingers in front as you looped your arms around your legs. As a journalist that wrote for a newspaper, you were always being handed things to write about, so there wasn’t much room for inspiration per se, just skill and good research.

However, that wasn’t to say that you hadn’t entertained the idea of writing what you wanted, your own ideas and things plucked out of your imagination on occasion, but the problem with fiction was that as free as it sounded, it was never truly as free as one thought. That, and the fact that non-fiction was what was expected of you.

He thought about your question for a moment. “Inspiration is very unpredictable because you can get it from everywhere if you look hard enough for it. For example, take Jackson’s new song.”

“Jackson? Jackson Wang?” You asked incredulously, and he nodded.

“Yep, his new song Blow? He showed me some of the writing process and most people think it’s this sultry euphemism for a woman he’s sleeping with when in reality, it’s just about his damn cigarette.” He chuckled fondly at the recollection, remembering how dumbfounded he was when he found out himself, amused at the way your lips parted and eyes widened in bewilderment. Pressing his middle and index finger together, he brought it up to his mouth and then pulled it away by just moving his wrist, mimicking taking a drag.

“You’re kidding,” You weren’t sure if you were saying it out of mystification over the news that the song was supposed to be taken more literally than you had thought, or that Taeyong knew Jackson Wang. You reckoned that half of his charm came from the fact that one could continually forget he was famous while in his presence.

Taeyong smirked slightly, unable to stop himself from doing so at your expression. “Not at all. It’s just really easy to disguise a song as one out of love.” And with that, he turned his attention to the low ceiling of the bus, as if trying to peer out at the stars that were hidden from his view. You let yourself get carried away in the act of trying to read his mind and what he was thinking for a minute, before shaking yourself out of it after failing spectacularly.

“So what inspires you?” You repeated your previous words, “Not others, you.”

Another sigh escaped those crimson lips of his, clicking his tongue in a mixture of frustration and exasperation. “That’s a hard question, reporter, go easy on me, won’t you?” He was teasing you, light-hearted teasing that went straight to your head.

Evidently, your head wasn’t working well because you decided that it was the perfect moment to spring the million-dollar, definitely not an easy question on him. “Is it true?”

He raised an eyebrow at your abrupt blurting out of the painfully vague question. You wondered how you dared to call yourself a professional journalist when this was how you presented yourself at times.

“Is what true?”

“Did you sleep your way to the top?”

Pin. Drop. Silence.

From the very moment the words left your lips, you knew you fucked up. They had sounded so unbelievably wrong even as you were pronouncing them so impetuously on your tongue, a tongue that you now bit down on hard in regret. You briefly entertained the concept of time travel, solely so you could go back and slap a hand over your past self from two minutes ago before she could ask the one that had been relentlessly plaguing her.

“The thing about inspiration,” He started slowly, cautiously even, “Is that people don’t realize it’s dependent on motivation, and those two things were very different. His eyes were trained on you now, unwavering, and you noticed how intense they were even in the dark, somehow seeming to be void of any colour while having little golden freckles of light like the drink in his glass dancing around in them at the same time. “Some are lucky to have both of those things present at the same time, others- not so much.”

You had no idea where this was going, but you knew that it was in your best interest to keep your mouth shut and listen, especially with how serious he was.

“Motivation is what keeps me going every day,” He said haltingly, ignoring the cool draft of air that danced around his feet, “And inspiration rolls around when I’m most motivated. It’s how we write our music. Every song on all the albums we’ve done has come out of our studio and ourselves.” His jaw spasmed with the offence. “So no, I didn’t sleep my way to the top, Y/n, our music got us there fair and square.”

All the things you could have been and you chose to be a first-class jerk, but the firmness in his voice was all the proof you needed. The article was a lie, Jungwoo was a liar and Renjun was a cheating rat. Culpability settled deep in your gut, this time without the intention of ever leaving.

“I believe you.”

The sheer conviction in your voice surprised him, and so did the way you were looking at him, with that same determined look you always wore, but this time it was directed at him. You truly did believe every word that had come out of his mouth and he couldn’t have been more grateful because he hadn’t heard those three words in so long.

I believe you- not from his manager, his team, or even his bandmates. They thought it, of course, they did, he was sure of that, but they never said it aloud to assure him of it. All they did was remind him of what he had to do to fix the messes he always managed to stumble into, willingly or not. When you said it, it was like the weight he had been carrying around for so long slipped off his shoulders and let him stand up straight for the first time in a long time.

“You do?” You hadn’t expected the undertone of vulnerability that came along with how he said that, the earnest hope that so subtly accompanied it.

You nodded, locking eyes with him without the intention of ever looking away. You believed him so much that it was killing you a little because you had seen the hurt that flickered in his otherwise calm expression, the poker face he had perfected after all these years of wearing it. You didn’t have to repeat it because you somehow knew that it had settled in and made the impression you had wanted it to already.

Taeyong looked away first, but not entirely. His eyes fell to your lips, causing you to suck in a sharp breath, your mind running at a mile a minute the moment he did. The air between your bodies turned to electric static and nothing more, a magnetic pull that beckoned you closer to him as if you weren’t already right by his side.

It was that vulnerability and your pure acceptance that tipped him over completely and he willingly let go.

His lips met yours delicately, ghosting over yours as your eyes fluttered shut in anticipation, heart hammering through the confines of your chest, begging for freedom and solace in his hands, for it was fairly obvious that he had managed to snatch it away before you even noticed it wasn’t yours to claim anymore. As if sensing the fearful hesitance in the way he just barely brushed his mouth against yours, you let all of your inhibitions go and let your mind go blank as you pressed your lips back against his.

Somewhere through the seconds of your lip-lock, his hand cupped your jaw, calloused fingers holding you gently as his thumb brushed against your cheekbone, lulling you further into him. You could taste the whiskey on his lips, coaxing the guilt out of your system and replacing its heaviness with a warmth you couldn’t quite put your finger on, focusing on the way he kissed you. You basked in the way he moved his lips by yours as if he was memorizing every little thing about them, like a sunflower standing proud in the presence of the sun's rays.

When he pulled back slightly you found yourself chasing his lips, reaching out and tugging on the material of his shirt as you eagerly met him halfway once again and it was when you finally understood how addictions came to be. He lit a fire under the expanse of your skin, a fire you never wanted to put out for as long as you lived, to let it burn until it consumed your very being.

You weren’t sure when the both of you broke away from each other’s mouths, still buzzing from the pure intoxication he had provided you with. You were much closer than before, so much so that his hot breath mingled with yours as his forehead pressed against yours, and you stayed like that for a few minutes until his hand slipped gently into your hair.

“Thank you,” He breathed out quietly, staying like that. A fluttery jab hit you right in your chest at that, and you reached up until your hand was on his, deciding that everything else could afford to take a backseat if you were allowed to be in his arms like this, even for just a few more minutes. Somehow, you managed to find your voice despite being sure you had lost it the moment this bewitching man kissed you to echo.

“I believe you.”

And then perhaps you finally let yourself fall, but not aimlessly like you had in the past. Unprecedented, you let yourself finally entertain the idea of falling in love.

“Hello, this is Kim Jungwoo speaking.”

In truth, you weren’t too fond of confrontation. You were about to cut the call the moment the second ring buzzed through your device, but your tenacity prevailed, coaxing you to hold on until he picked up. You gripped your phone a little tighter, trying to ignore the sudden dampness of your palms.

“Jungwoo,” You started, putting on a professional tone for the sake of the call. “This is Y/n L/n from The Link, I apologize for the sudden nature of this call, but do you have a few minutes?”

To some, loose ends provided an area for speculation, where they could freely put out their thoughts into the world all while protecting themselves by mentioning it was all ‘alleged’. You had never been one to endorse speculation, especially when you had pretty darn good evidence pointing towards what was the truth. Jungwoo was the loose end you were going to tie up.

“Y/n! Oh hey, yeah sure, is something wrong?” You could hear the mild recognition in his voice- he just barely remembered who you were, you were sure, but that was to be expected. He was senior to you and had been working at The Link for much longer as well, so the most he would have known about your existence was the fact that you spent a whole three months running around and getting people their coffee.

Yes, you almost said, more distressed over the situation than you cared to admit. Although he couldn’t see it, you shook your head as you spoke, “Not at all! I just have a few questions, if you don’t mind.”

“Knock yourself out.” You heard some shuffling from his head and you exhaled, mentally applauding yourself for making it this far. Now that you had taken the first step, the rest of it shouldn’t be too hard, and you sat up straight as if you were interviewing him, gathering all your thoughts.

“Give me a minute,” You pulled the phone away from your ear before he could respond, making sure that the call was being recorded, before putting it back. Usually, you would have put the call on speaker so it would be easier to take notes, but this was a special case. You couldn’t afford the consequences of anyone listening in. “Alright, it’s my understanding that you were assigned a piece of Cherry Bomb a few months ago?”

“I was.”

“And you pulled out last minute,” You continued, tapping your nails on the small table in front of you rhythmically.

“That is true, yes, but what is this about?” He was very obviously confused, unaware of the direction that you were about to take the conversation.

“Well, you see, I was put in your place to accompany the band on tour, but a few interesting things came up and I thought that it would be best if I asked you about it since it seems like you would know the most.” Your explanation was logical, you had taken a lot of time planning exactly how this was going to go in your head, keeping your tone calm and composed as you glanced down at the ticking hands on your watch. The afternoon was dipping into the evening.

He hummed unassumingly, “Alright, go ahead.”

“Why did you refuse to write the article?”

“Family emergency.” His answer was painfully generic, you had to pinch your lips to stop yourself from outright snorting at it.

“But it’s such a valuable piece to have under your belt, Johnny mentioned that it could get you a spot at the NYT.” It was probably not a very wise decision to so blatantly and harshly press on for what could technically be classified as personal information from someone senior to you, but it was what you had to do.

He bristled a little, tsking over the phone. “Are you insinuating that a job offer is more important than family, Miss L/n?”

“I’m insinuating that you’re lying to me,” You replied, uncompromising to his attempt at gaining the upper hand. Now, this was a pretty big claim to put out there, but you knew you were right, and you were getting tired of people thinking you were so gullible and underestimating you.

“You wrote the piece on Taeyong.” You made no effort in beating around the bush, nor did you pose it as a question for his leisure, instead stating it as it was. A lesson that you were quickly learning was that you weren’t going to get anything unless you fought for it and you were going to fight for this just as you fought for your spot on the tour.

Funnily enough, you weren’t exactly fighting for yourself this time.

“I’m sorry?”

“The anonymous piece about Lee Taeyong,” you clarified, not an ounce of hesitance in your voice. “I heard your source speak to the editor a few weeks ago and everything fell into place, especially when he came around to ask me if I knew why I was there.” The silence that followed your words was extremely gratifying because it told you that you had made the right assumption.

“What do you want, Y/n?” He asked, and if you didn’t know any better, you would say that it hinged along the lines of a threat with how low his voice was. You pressed your lips together, swallowing the annoyance that had sprung forth with how he was speaking to you. You fisted the fingers of your other hand, feeling your nails dig into the cold skin of your palm.

“I want the real reason you dropped the piece, Jungwoo,” You used his first name, in the same manner, he used yours, forcing yourself to calm down, leaning back in the small chair you sat in and letting out a controlled sigh. One thing you couldn’t afford to do was lose control.

He guffawed, “And pray tell, what do you think that is?”

Frustration drummed through your veins at his obvious dismissal, the scrutiny in the way he spoke to you. “You’re scared of getting caught because you know it’s a fabrication.”

“Is it?” He was playing it coy now, and your temper made a surprising show as it bubbled up to the base of your throat, threatening to spill out. You weren’t one to so quickly let an intense emotion wash over you like this, so it caught you off guard as well, leaving you to swallow it down along with the lump in your throat.

“You know damn well it is,” You hissed into the mic of your phone, gripping the edge of the table to keep yourself grounded. “He didn’t do anything of the sort and you’re scared of getting caught because of what you did because it would easily tie back to you. It’s why you wrote the piece anonymously.”

“Oh cut the act Y/n, I didn’t do it because I have anything against the man, I did it because I was offered the prettiest paycheque you could ever lay your eyes on for it. And Taeyong is a celebrity, several celebrities have done what I accused him of.”

“It’s wrong,” You said, utterly flabbergasted over how unbothered Jungwoo was over the entire thing. “Just because others have doesn’t mean he has, I know he hasn’t.”

All at once, it made sense why you were so earnest in your rage towards the man, you were angry because it was hurting Taeyong more than he let you. You saw a glimpse of it that night when he kissed you and the way he relaxed in your touch when you told him you trusted him. You discovered what a lovely being he was, even if it consisted of poorly hidden rendezvous that had you being discovered almost every time, but he never seemed too concerned.

Nothing warranted him having to deal with the consequences of Jungwoo’s actions. You had learned that over the past few weeks that you had permitted yourself to get tied up in the whirlwind of chaos that consisted of his world. You learned that you liked it a little too much.

You thought of the way he looked at you when you told him you believed him. The smile that curled his lips when he saw you.

He didn’t deserve that at all.

It hit you then, just how deceptive it was for you to claim that he didn’t deserve all this and that you cared for him when you were one of the main contributors. Were you not the person who had to write an article about him? Weren’t you the person who had jumped at the opportunity to write it just so it could benefit you? And from the looks of things, you were meant to write a piece to feed into the created narrative.

You would tell him. You had to tell him because it was the right thing to do.

Just not yet.

“Please, he’s a grown-ass man who is filthy rich, you don’t have to go around defending him.” The sneer in his voice did not go unnoticed by you, causing you to grind your teeth together in an attempt to not lash out at the pompous man. How dare he have the audacity to pretend he was better than you for spewing his lies and boasting about the money he got for it.

There was no point in arguing with Jungwoo; that much was clear from your short exchange with him, and you cleared your throat so you sounded composed. “Thank you for your time, Mr Kim.”

“Good luck with your article, Y/n, have fun playing hero if you must.”

You cut the call, biting down so hard on your tongue that it hurt to stop yourself from possibly lashing out against the man. Bringing your phone down, you stared at the screen in candid incredulity at how a person could be so selfish so as to endanger someone else's career- hell, this was Taeyong’s entire life on the line!- to further theirs, especially when it wasn’t warranted in the slightest.

You narrowed your eyes and pressed the icon for the recording app, your frown slipping into a sly smile as you saw the recorded log that sat atop all the others with the day's date.

Gotcha.

The first day of July brought in the middle of the summer, the clouds turning luminous as they passed by the sun, letting its beams flicker through and warm up the world below. Taking in a deep breath, you smiled when you made your way downstairs to greet the band that morning- and one of them in particular, because your trusty research had told you that the summer wasn’t the only thing that the first of July graced with its presence.

It was Taeyong’s twenty-fourth birthday and the day of yet another one of their shows, but this time everyone seemed to be more relaxed, smiles on their faces due to the occasion. You had never thought about how one would go about celebrating their birthday on the road, but since you were directly involved this time, you pushed your tribulations with Jungwoo to the back of your mind as you slipped into the kitchen and gripped the handle of the fridge, pulling it open to see the brown box that sat on the third shelf.

The day before, you had helped the rest of the band inconspicuously get a cake in his favourite flavour- green tea- and had it decorated with white and pink frosting, his favourite colour. It had taken you two hours to find a bakery that sold the specific flavour in San Fransisco, and by the end of it, you found yourself very lost in the new city. Thankfully, you had the boon of Google Maps to assist you in your journey back and had managed to hide it in the kitchen with the man of the day being none the wiser.

His liking of green tea cake was only the first of his many odd quirks that you had come to learn and subconsciously smile at the thought of, things that one couldn’t find through a simple google search. He bought lego sets in his free time and built them, apparently displaying all his creations on a shelf at his house, his comfort movie was Howl’s Moving Castle, and he had a hobby of buying and building a collection of unique shoes that he somehow managed to pull off and had a penchant for sweet snacks.

Taeyong was loveable in every sense, so naturally, it was so easy to fall in love with him.

“Doyoung, not the hair!”

His voice rang out, laced in mock annoyance and you rolled your eyes, shutting the fridge and walking out into the main lounge area, only to see the usually stoic man practically on top of Taeyong. Although he was generally calmer than the others, you had quickly picked up on the dynamic between him and Taeyong, which resembled something like Tom and Jerry, the two always looking for reasons to bicker.

“You’re old now,” He said, messing up his hair, much to the birthday boy’s despair, “How does it feel?”

“I don’t know, about as boring as you are.”

“Fuck off- oh, hey Y/n.” Doyoung finally stopped troubling Taeyong to greet you, also catching the attention of the latter, who glanced up to see you standing there with an amused grin on your face. It was always entertaining to watch the band interact with each other, it reminded you that under all the glamour and popularity they possessed, they were just a bunch of guys having fun.

“Hey,” You giggled at the sight, folding your arms as you leaned against the metal frame that separated the lounge from the kitchen area and biting the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from snorting at the way Taeyong’s hair adorably stuck up in different directions due to his friend's ministrations. “Looks like you’re having fun.”

“They’ve been doing this since the moment I woke up,” He all but whined, staring at you keenly with those captivating eyes of his softer than usual, as if urging you to help get him out of that situation. It was then you noticed him as a whole, from the sweatpants that hung low on his hips to his lack of shirt.

Bloody hell, did he have to look like this in the morning?

Even at nine in the morning, he looked stunning and as if this was a good enough reason to be annoyed, you let your eyes wander for a minute, lingering on the tattoos that decorated the expanse of his pale skin. Then you looked back up, pushing down the warmth that was creeping up onto your face, and smiled.

“Happy birthday.”

Taeyong ran a hand through his hair to try and fix it, his own simper making a show. “Thank you, baby.”

Oh, did we talk about the nicknames? It should have been illegal for a man this ravishing to be able to pull off saying terms of endearance and manage to have your heart skip a beat while he did. Doyoung pretended to gag and walked away, shooting you a look that you couldn’t read before leaving the bus. You paid it no mind as you made your way towards Taeyong, reaching up so that your arms looped up around his neck, and pulled him down to meet your lips in a sweet kiss.

His hands quickly found purchase on your hips as he chuckled lightly, the sound going straight to your stomach. You had grown very accustomed to kissing him and loved every second of it, even if sometimes those kisses were embarrassingly long. He was positively irresistible, that much you were certain of, and every interaction you shared with him never failed to pull you in.

So perhaps you were a little in over your head when it came to Taeyong, but by god, was it worth it.

“Oh, I like this birthday gift,” He quipped, kissing the side of your mouth and then tugging you closer so your body was flush against his, arms securely around your waist. You felt flushed but didn’t let it stop you from burying your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in the scent of his cologne deeply as if you were trying to memorize it.

“How much?”

“Kiss me again and you’ll find out.” An offer you took up all too easily, especially with the taunting smirk that clung to his lips and the mischievous look in those hooded eyes of his, a look that always managed to elicit a delicious shiver from you. This time, the kiss was slower but just as dizzying and you couldn’t help but sigh, embracing the hotness that invaded your cheeks.

You were so preoccupied with him that you didn’t notice the door of the bus crack open a little and the pair of eyes that watched the two of you. You broke away from the heated kiss, unable to stop the idiotic smile from blooming on your face as you pushed him away playfully.

“I think I’m an excellent gift giver.” You winked, straightening out your outfit, “Now shoo, you have rehearsal.”

“Trying to get rid of me on my birthday? You wound me, Y/n.” He dramatically placed his hand over his heart, putting on a sorrowful expression that had you rolling your eyes in a combination of exasperation and amusement.

You shook your head and some of your hair out of your face in the process, proceeding to complain even though it held no real displeasure, “I have to work, even if it’s your birthday, and you’re very distracting.”

“That’s a you problem,” He mumbled cheekily, not looking away from you even once, a gesture that woke those butterflies that seemed to have moved into the pit of your stomach once again. When you shot him a warning look that wasn’t threatening in the slightest, he fought a smile and raised his hands to the sides of his head in defence. “But fine, if you must.”

You waved him off, letting out a sound of protest when he stole a kiss from you which left you with the objection stuck in your throat, but you acquiesced. By the time they would be done, you would have at least managed to finish up some of your work along with setting up the cake that you had spent so long scavenging for, and Mark was going to leave rehearsals a little earlier so he could help you.

“Have fun birthday boy,” You mumbled fondly, touching your lips as if silently questioning where all your reminders of professionalism went. “And put on a damn shirt!”

Irene's heels clicked on the pavement as she walked away from the tour bus after she made sure the door was closed, with her head held high as it always was, refusing to show even a hint of what she had just seen on it. After years of practice, she had gotten very good at controlling her expressions when needed.

She supposed that in some way this was her fault. After all, she was the one who told Taeyong to get on your good side for the sake of the article because of dire the situation was. She hadn’t exactly given him a manual to tell him how to go about it, had she? Winning you over would mean winning a battle.

So when Doyoung came up to her and told her that Taeyong was kissing you, all she could think was ‘Well that’s certainly one way to do it.’

As Cherry Bomb’s manager, it was her job to weigh the pros and cons of every situation and decision made regarding the band's career. She had been doing it for the past five years and had always managed to make sure they stayed on top of all the happenings, but hadn’t anticipated you to make such an….impact, to say the least. She was the one the agreed to have a journalist on board to make a good impact on would do wonders to extinguish the rumours that had been circulating.

The little affair between you and Taeyong wasn’t what she had expected to happen at all, so it fell under the category of being a complication, but that didn’t necessarily mean it was a bad thing. As long as they played it right, it would work out perfectly in their favour, and so she listed it as a pro.

For now.

She glanced down at the watch on her wrist, sighing when she realized that the rehearsals were starting a few minutes late due to the sound check taking extra time than usual. Usually, she would have hounded everyone to pick up their pace, but it was Taeyong’s birthday, and she did not want to intrude on your tryst back there with him. It was probably better if she didn’t, might make for an even nicer article.

Irene wasn’t one of the older managers, but she was a respected one because she knew how to get things done and she did it well. A lot of people asked her how it felt to manage the biggest band in the world, and how she was so good at what she did and her answer always consisted of the same smile and pretty thanks.

The real reason was too humiliating to actually talk about because it involved her past- the time before she was a manager because unfortunately, that did exist, even if she ignored it for the most part.

It was why she was so hard on the boys. She knew from personal experience that the smallest of slip-ups could lead to everything they had worked for crashing and burning.

When she was seventeen, she had been scouted to be a singer and she had been very good too, but before she could even come out as an artist, her label dropped her due to lies that another singer she had been briefly involved with had spread about her. At merely eighteen, it frustrated her to no end that the dream that she had worked for over a year had slipped out of her fingers just like that.

It didn’t just frustrate her- it stagnated her for three years until she decided that if she couldn’t be out on stage, she was going to be behind it and make sure no one else ever had to deal with that. The very moment she had laid eyes on the band when they first formed, she saw the drive that she once possessed in them and insisted on managing them after she trained to be a manager.

She was almost twenty-nine now, her chance at stardom had long faded with her youth, but she had settled for living vicariously through her boys. She loved them too much to let a rumour destroy them, especially when it was the very thing that destroyed her.

Seeing Taeyong being so affectionate with you was new, he had always been the wild card of the group, even if he was the oldest and the leader. He was never one to settle, so he must have really been pulling out all the stops to protect the group. Maybe she had underestimated him, but it was done in good spirit.

Under her care, she would make sure that they were untouchable if it was the last thing she did.

Even though every stadium they performed at was different, backstage always functioned with the same sort of organized unruliness no matter what. Over time, you had grown to appreciate how it worked, watching with the same wonder-stricken curiosity you always held with it came to it.

You were home- kind of. This particular concert was in LA, which was where you lived and worked and where the band resided as well, but funnily enough, it wasn’t their last show. They still had around one month of the tour left, before they left for the rest of the world tour.

“I think you’re in the wrong place, miss.”

An enthralled smile automatically tugged at your lips and you had to suppress the urge to groan and roll your eyes at how easily Taeyong managed to lift your spirits. Turning around, you faced him in all his pre-show glory as he stood there with that cocky look on his outlandishly handsome face, and raised an eyebrow in question.

“What do you mean?” And at that, he produced a slip of paper, holding it out in front of you like you were a cat and it was a piece of yarn. Frowning as you tried to figure out what it was, you grabbed his wrist and plucked it out from between his fingers. “What’s this?”

“A ticket,” He replied plainly, looking far too prideful for his own good. “I promised you that you would watch a show of ours one day, didn’t I? Today is that day, so you should get to your seat because I picked you a really nice one during rehearsals today. Empty stadiums are great for figuring these things out.”

Oh.

You stared at the ticket, strong emotion flickering in your chest when you realized he had remembered what you had told him almost three months ago at this point. The small paper crumbled a little at how tight you were holding it between your index finger and thumb. “Thank you,” You whispered, incredibly touched. “But really, you didn’t have to.”

He brushed it off immediately. “I don’t go back on my word, remember? Now get out there, and make sure to scream for me.”

Taeyong kept chipping in and fulfilling small dreams of yours little by little, and you wondered if your new dream included staying with him because it was sure starting to look like that. You nodded, slipping the ticket into your pocket and pressing your lips to his for a quick kiss and silent thanks, before bidding him farewell.

Now, you may have been used to the disorder backstage, but nothing could have ever prepared you for the pure pandemonium outside. The roar of anticipating fans echoed through the entire stadium, not leaving room for even a smidge of silence, and you pushed through to get to your seat and once you had arrived, you had to admit that it was a good one. It was five rows away from the stage, close enough to watch everything upfront without having to look at the huge screens, but far away enough to not have to crane your neck.

When the lights dimmed, part of you joined their excitement as your breath hitched in your throat, anticipation drumming through your veins as your eyes trained on the stage. You had missed the opening act (an LA-based singer called Joshua Hong, under the same label as the band but a smaller artist in terms of a following- apparently, he had gotten famous from his cover of ‘Sunday Morning’ going viral, and the rest was history. You had briefly met him when he had returned backstage after his set) but it had left everyone even more excited for the main act.

Suddenly the resounding beat of a bass drum echoed through the stadium, accompanied by a countdown and a spotlight shone on the middle of the stage as it rose, revealing the band bit by bit. The audience waited in bated breath as they came up, a static silence coating the place for a few seconds.

And when Taeyong sang the first lyric, standing there holding his bass guitar in the front, the entire amphitheatre erupted in screams.

The energy in there was absolutely indescribable, infectious in the best possible way. The entire band joined in with the drumming, their instruments forming a melody so perfect sounding in the grittiest way possible. You could barely hear them singing because of how loud their fans were, their combined voices overtaking the artists they were there to see in the first place.

Chaos. Beautiful, unmatched chaos.

You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out from your lips, left unnoticed as it was buried under all the cacophony and thousands of fans singing along to a song that they knew so well. After having done so much research and listening to their music in the process, you distinctly recalled the tune just enough to be able to hum along and participate in the smallest way.

The overwhelming glare of the lights illuminated them perfectly and you lost yourself in the music though you didn’t know much about it at all. From the pounding of Yuta’s precise drumming that acted as the backbone for it all to Doyoung’s flawless playing on the keys. The way Mark and Jeno’s respective parts on the guitars blended so well like they were one was a true testament to the artists they were.

But you were much too preoccupied with the frontman, who stood there, commanding every ounce of your attention with just his presence. He didn’t even have to look at what he was playing, automatically doing what he had to as if it had been written into his blood, tilting his head as he sang into the mic in front of him.

They belonged on that stage and were destined to stay on it for the rest of their lives, undoubtedly timeless.

Pride swelled in your chest as you watched the boys you had grown to love and closer to over the past three months as they harmonized while never losing their individual sounds for even a moment, one a little more than the others. One you wouldn’t mind spending the rest of your life watching.

You froze amidst mouthing along to the words that you had picked up on, inhaling sharply as the thought crossed your mind before you could stop it, so unexpected that it rendered you speechless.

Were you in love with Lee Taeyong?

The answer came to you so swiftly that it nearly knocked you off of your feet, grabbing you and opening your eyes to how you felt about the man. When he happened to look right where you were sitting because he had personally picked out your seat, and sang a particularly romantic line that was cloaked in heavy bass and crisp drumming, you knew.

When the song ended, they started another almost immediately after, this time changing it up so that it was catered to the audience’s interaction, which they gave all too eagerly, their energy at an all-time high as the night was still young. The smiles never faded from each member’s faces as they performed, unequivocally feeding off the enthusiasm that they were being presented with.

You finally understood the buzz around concerts, the absolute adrenaline rush that they gave a person from simply standing amongst the crowd because you were finally a part of it. Your experience was a little different, mixed in with the realization of another emotion, but you loved every second of it nevertheless. By the time they had finished the third song, you knew that this was going to be their best concert yet.

They stopped playing, and Taeyong pulled the mic in front of him out of its stand and walked to the front of the stage, revelling in the growing screams that accompanied his every move. Delighted goosebumps arose on his skin as he drank it all in, the feeling that he got at the start of every concert no matter how many of them he played. His signature smile that drove their fans crazy made a show as he lifted the mic to his lips.

“Hello Los Angeles, welcome to THE CHERRY ON TOP STADIUM TOUR!!!”

After talking with the audience for a bit, they continued with a few songs, even including a mashup of two of them that drove everyone wild. Their stage presence was insane, from the way they interacted with each other and everyone else in the stadium, and at one point even brought out another popular artist that was in LA at the time to join them in one of their songs.

They played Dark Clouds as a throwback to their beginnings, and then Blue, a heavier, more emotional song that was close to their hearts as well as the hearts of their fans, who somehow managed to scream along even to those delicate lyrics.

At one point, someone threw their bra on stage during one of the talking bits, leading to the very comical scene of Taeyong picking it up and hanging it on the end of his bass. Watching it happen was surreal, funny as hell, but so odd that you laughed hard along with everyone else. The sense of community that they created was admirable and you were grateful to be a part of it, even for just a few hours.

Truly, there weren’t enough words to describe the magnificence of the concert, the way the lighting ebbed and flowed according to the songs they performed and how the dancers that came out during specific performances put their best foot forward with everything they did. It was remarkably easy to see why Cherry Bomb was the best and why they would say the best.

The last song was an encore, a song that even you knew the lyrics to, bringing the enthusiasm that had dwindled ever so slightly from the start back to the area. When the last notes were played and the last lines were sung, and they thanked the crowd that night, you were surprised at the sudden emergence of tears in your eyes, emotional over the way it had ended so quickly.

It was the perfect ending to an impeccable show, one that would forever be engraved in your mind.

When the lights turned back on as they retreated backstage, it felt as if you were in the wrong place, like what you had just witnessed wasn’t reality in the slightly, but rather a beautiful dream you wished hadn’t ended. You stood there, staring blankly at the now deserted stage as the crowds dispersed, sobering up from the high they had gotten from the experience, hand stuffed in your pocket as you gripped the ticket tightly, unable to let go just yet.

You didn’t know how or when you managed to move again, snapping out of the spell the show had put you under, making your way to the front and to the door that led backstage, showing the guard that was stationed there the pass you had been issued at the start of the tour. Once you had walked inside, you possessed new respect for the work they did there, because there was no way the concert would have been as excellent as it was without those behind the scenes.

In the midst of it all, you saw Taeyong walking away from his mates, sipping on some water. He had lost the red leather jacket that he wore for every show, left in only a black vest that had a few buttons undone as they were, hair a little matted from the humidity. His eyes, however, were alight with a certain type of zeal that was the by-product of the adrenaline rush that no doubt coursed through his veins.

He was stunning.

He spotted you, pulling the bottle away from his mouth as he shot you a crooked little smile, and if you knew any better, you would have said that it held a hint of nervousness in it. Taking this as your cue, you began walking over, but before you knew it your walk turned into a sprint as you practically threw yourself in his arms, wrapping your arms tightly around him as you let him anchor you back down to earth.

“...So?” He asked, hand on the small of your back and other at the back of your head, securing your position. It scared you a tad, just how perfect it felt like there was nowhere else you would rather be.

“I loved it,” You whispered, fingers clinging to the thick material of his vest, the cool surface of the pins on them pressed against your skin. “God Taeyong that was….I can’t even begin to tell you how-”

He chuckled faintly, the enchanting sound getting lost in your hair as he tucked some of it behind your ear. “I hope it’s still the best show you’ve ever been to.”

“It always will be.” It was surprising how sure of that you were as you stepped out of his embrace, mildly embarrassed over how naturally you had run into his arms like it was something you had meant to do all this time. To rid your mind of that thought, you blurted out, “We should probably join the others and get to the cars so we can leave.”

You weren’t getting cold feet by any means, you were simply adjusting to the concept of loving him. Now that it had crossed your mind, it seemed like a permanent notion that wanted to stay and you weren’t used to the delight that accompanied it.

“We’re not going with them.” He stated mischievously.

“We’re not?” Your blatant confusion wasn’t lost on him, but if the look on his face told you anything, you would say that it was best to just follow along with what he had in mind. After all, you had been doing that for a bit now and it had always worked out in your favour.

Taeyong shook his head, his hand finding yours as he guided you out from backstage with the rest of the band, but then didn’t go in the car that the rest piled into, waving them off instead. With every passing moment, your curiosity grew and peaked when another car pulled up right where you were standing with him

“Most of the time when we’re in LA, we stay in this house that we have that’s close to our record label’s building.” He started to explain as he opened the car door for you, “But I actually have an apartment in the city, so I thought we could go back there tonight instead of back to the bus.”

He said this nonchalantly, but the meaning behind it was that he wanted to let you into his life a little more because it was becoming increasingly obvious that what he felt for you wasn’t temporary like it had been for other girls he had been with. Instead, it festered, amplifying with every minute he spent with you and surprisingly enough, he wasn’t against that possibility.

“Oh,” You whispered, voice oddly soft as if you had somehow picked up on this and were moved. The phantom of a smile danced on your lips as you nodded, slipping into the passenger seat as the driver got out of his, tipping his head to Taeyong and walking away. He took the driver's seat, started the car and looked at you through the rearview mirror.

Taeyong had always known he was a selfish person, and while some might have seen that as a flaw within themselves, he had never done that. He liked knowing what he wanted and getting it, but there was something about you that amplified that part of him because, with you, he wanted it all, even the things that weren’t possible due to who he was. Things he couldn’t have because of what he had played this relationship off as to the others.

Falling for someone was hard when the entire world could watch.

But being the selfish soul he was, he wanted it all. Perhaps it was a foolish notion to create and keep wishes that were much too out of his reach, yet the thought of discarding them never once occurred to him.

Much like Taeyong himself, his place was nothing like you expected but fit perfectly with who he was. It was massive, more appropriately called a penthouse, with huge windows and an interior that was on the expensive side, and when he switched the lights on you could see how it was minimally decorated, nothing too fancy since as he had told you before, he didn’t stay here very often, but with a pleasant ambience.

“I may have fibbed a little,” He admitted, a sheepish look slipping onto his features. Walking into the place, he placed the keys on the table with a soft clattering sound that seemed much louder than it was in the emptiness of the apartment.

“The apartment isn’t exactly what I wanted to show you.”

You raised a questioning eyebrow at this, “What is it then?”

He was just full of surprises, wasn’t he? If there was one thing he had taught you, it was how to appreciate the ‘magic of surprises’, as he had so eloquently put it all those weeks ago when it took you out in New York. Somehow, he always managed to spring one on your unsuspecting self whenever he pleased and you couldn’t find it in yourself to dislike it.

Taeyong gestured at you to follow him as he walked even further into the apartment, through a small corridor and into a bedroom, where he opened one of the closets to reveal a singular object sitting inside.

A guitar case.

He carefully picked it out, holding the rough fabric of the case as he unzipped it and let the top half fall open to reveal the neck of a guitar, which he gently gripped as he pulled it out.

It was a deep Walnut brown, lined with a lighter shade of the same colour that accentuated the edges and curves of the instrument. You walked forward to where he was standing slowly, studying the surface of the guitar once you were close enough to do so. He dropped the now empty case and it crumpled to the floor, already forgotten.

As he held the guitar up horizontally for you to gaze upon, you took note of the various little markings on the bottom that you couldn’t deduce to be accidental or on purpose, but it gave it character. You gently ran your fingers over them, briefly smiling at the small signature of an old artist that was planted off to the side of the guitar. It was a reminder, one that told you that he was once a wide-eyed fan in the crowd.

“I got this when I was twelve,” He said ardently, reminiscing the clear fond memories that came along with it. “It was my birthday and until then I had been using my dad’s old Gibson to learn how to play. When they presented me with this I was ecstatic because it was the very first guitar that I could call my own.”

A chuckle escaped his lips as he thought about it, running his fingers over the now loose strings- the result of being unused over the years. He toyed with the tuning heads aimlessly, a wistful expression twisted into the existing look on his face. “I named her Izabella- the same name that Jimi Hendrix named his most famous guitar because I wanted to be just as good as him someday.”

The image of a tween Taeyong filters through your mind, a short little kid sitting on the floor next to this huge present, a sparkle of excitement entering his eyes when he realised what his present was. You imagined his smaller figure holding it for the first time and naming it, vowing to be the best guitarist there was.

“I used her in all my school competitions, played at every event I could until I got into bass, and although it’s technically a different instrument, I practised on Izabella anyway.” He placed the instrument down with care, leaning it against the wall. “When I got my bass, I still played on her from time to time, but then I formed the band and slowly stopped paying attention to my first guitar, but I carried it with me when we moved to LA. “I guess that you could call it my first love.”

You stared at him intently as he looked at you properly with a boyish smile. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that I tend to get caught up with music. Fuck, I even consider an instrument my first proper love.”

“It’s admirable,” You stated earnestly. He scoffed.

“And a little weird, no?” He took a step closer to you, tilting his head ever so slightly. “I care for you Y/n, but being with me…..it won’t be easy. The fans, the fact that I put my music before everything, the paparazzi waiting for every single mistake you commit- it’s not normal, but if you’re okay with it-”

He paused as if carefully thinking over the words that appeared to be so easy to put out when they left his lips.

“-I would love to keep you by my side.”

There it was again, that vulnerability that simultaneously warmed your heart whilst weighing it down with another bout of relentless guilt.

“Taeyong….” Your whisper trailed off into the silence of the apartment, hanging over your heads as you tried to pull yourself together, your affection for the man that stood in front of you finally blossoming into the beautiful rose that it had set out to be when it was merely budding. You thought about how fitting it was because of how much like a rose Taeyong was himself, delicate and beautiful but guarded with the thorns around it, untouchable.

You had to tell him.

Not soon, not later, now. You had to tell him right then as the wind beat gratingly against the windows, never once entering his space, leaving everything inside perfectly still.

“The piece I’m writing isn’t about the tour or the band.” You announced abruptly, swallowing the lump in your throat so that you could lay out the truth before him with utmost verity. His eyebrows furrowed in bewilderment as you spoke, knitting together endearingly.

“It’s about you.”

Faint amusement shone in his eyes. “They tend to be like that, yep.”

“No you don’t understand,” You shook your head, ignoring the anxious bristle of goosebumps that rose on your skin. “I didn’t realise it before, but this article was meant to be against you from the very start, I was meant to write a false exposé on you that rode off the one accusing you of sleeping your way to the top because the reporter who was initially supposed to come was the one that wrote it.”

Your voice wobbled a little, your nerves seeping into it before you could stop them from doing so. “I caught the person who leaked that information- the false information- to my editor a month or so ago and confronted the writer, who confessed. I didn’t know what this was but I promise I’m only going to write the truth.”

Flushed cheeks and heavy breathing, you stared at him almost desperately, waiting for something- any sort of reaction from him. You hadn’t realized how much you were scared of this moment until you plunged yourself into the deep end, confronting it head-on without thinking too much. The silence felt a beat too long.

His eyes softened at your integrity, the promise that you conveyed with your words for him. It only seemed fair to give you the same trust that you instilled in him.

“I believe you.”

Trust was a finicky concept, one that could make or break a person completely. His trust in you lifted the weight of carrying around the burden of the true nature of the article off your shoulders, and you exhaled in relief. “Then….I would love to be by your side, Taeyong.”

“Yeah?” His voice came out in a whisper, so close now that his breath tickled your lips. A challenge spoken with that smirk-clad mouth of his, one that only succeeded in bringing heat to your face with every teasing syllable. He believed you and that was all that mattered.

You didn’t make any motion to move away, instead, instinctively moved closer until your lips met his, a silent thank you and confirmation of what you wanted– him. He pulled you closer until your body was flush against his, not a breath of space between you as his fingers brushed against the exposed skin of your waist, slipping under your shirt to secure you in place as if someone could pull you away at any moment. You could feel the rhythm of his heart against yours and every point your body connected with his, hyper-aware of every little thing he did and the electrifying way he did it.

Your guilt was long forgotten, fading into the background as you fell into the sheets of his bed, entangling with him with every kiss and promise whispered against your skin. Your fingertips traced every tattoo you had previously only had the liberty to admire and the curve of his lips, fingers intertwined as you found refuge from the world and your troubles in the comforting embrace of his arms. You laid beside him, body curled into his side, so close that the hair that fell across his forehead brushed against your own, noses pressed together and lips just barely touching.

Taeyong couldn’t help but look at you- really look at you- as you slept, the way your eyelashes kissed your cheeks and cast shadows over your face, hiding your beautiful eyes from the world at that very moment in time, and sighed contentedly. You seemed to perfect there, under the linens of his bed that had always seemed a little too lonely for just him.

Maybe it was never supposed to be just for him to inhabit.

Carefully slipping out of the bed, he padded across the floor to a window, reaching for the packet of cigarettes that sat on the small table close by, opening it and pulling one out. Then, he picked up the lighter from the old ashtray on the table, lighting the cigarette and holding it up to his lips, ones that had just kissed you more times than he could count, as he stared out into the blinding, starstruck city of Los Angeles.

Taking a slow drag, he breathed the smoke into his lungs, letting the drug get to his head and relax his mind until all he could focus on were the bright lights that blurred through the tempered glass, blinding the city that had been his house for the past five years, but never a home.

You were walking on clouds.

There was a bounce in your steps as you walked into the concert grounds in the late afternoon, a simper dancing lightly on your lips as you glimpsed up at the vibrantly coloured sky of Phoenix, oranges and blues swirling together splendidly. The sun was lively, playing hide and seek amidst the clouds and occasionally revealing itself- the very clouds you felt as if you were skipping over.

It had been a while since you had felt this elated. The last time you could remember experiencing an emotion remotely similar to this was when you got elected the editor of your University’s newspaper, and that was almost two years ago, perhaps a little more.

Cotton-candy clouds beneath your feet, light as a feather without a worry in the world.

You had awoken later than usual that day, finding yourself alone on the tour bus since they had to start rehearsals for the show in the evening. After managing to throw together some breakfast, you worked on your article; a new and improved article that you were starting from scratch; before finally deciding to join them.

You walked, the stadium this time not being too far from where the buses were parked, coffee in hand and spirits climbing higher with every step you took.

To say that you were in a good mood would have been an understatement. You finally knew what to do with your article and it was going remarkably well for someone who had neglected it for so long. Of course, your delightful frame of mind might have had something to do with a certain someone as well.

As for the piece, it was an exposé alright, but not the one everyone would be expecting. It would wake the entire world up to what had actually happened, carefully crafted so that the rumours that had spread would be considered void once it was published.

The sheer thought of your work having such an impact brought another smile to your mouth and you indulged, a sense of pride rushing through you. Your dreams had always been much too big for your own good, but now that you had your sights firmly set on them, you allowed yourself to entertain them.

You decided to surprise Taeyong, slowing your pace as you pushed the door backstage, practically tiptoeing at this point. Something you had come to cherish was the way his eyes always lit up without fail when he saw you, even though it had been almost two months since your little relationship of sorts began. Growing up, you had always believed that excitement like that for someone was fleeting, it faded within a week or so, and you thought this because of how implausible the concept was to you.

Now that you were someone holding those very sentiments, you were glad that you had been wrong.

In retrospect, it was childish to want to surprise him when he knew he would see you every day, but with only a few shows left before they left for the rest of their world tour, you wanted to make the most of every moment you had with him. Then, you would have to wait for four months.

Judging from the currently empty stage, they were on a break from practising for the evening, making your plan all the easier to execute. Once you located the green rooms with little help, you made your way over and grabbed the knob, twisting it clockwise slowly so that the click would be barely audible and pushed slightly.

And right then was the third time you eavesdropped on a conversation, this time both parties were present, which stripped you from the trouble of having to imagine what the other was saying. You stopped pushing, leaving only a sliver of space between the door frame and the edge of the door itself as you heard Irene speak.

“I’m a little concerned about whatever you have going on with Y/n.”

Her voice was matter-of-fact, stating this plainly- harshly, even. You subconsciously straightened yourself up at the sound of your name, freezing your motions of opening the door to effectively listen in without being caught. The irony of it all was not lost on you, because here you were once again, doing something you probably weren’t supposed to.

“I thought you’d be overjoyed,” Taeyong replied flatly, disinterest in the conversation as clear as day. An exasperated sigh from her end followed, but before she could say anything, he continued, “Wasn’t all this your idea in the first place?”

Her idea? What?

The silence that followed was oddly suffocating, your brows knitted together in confusion, feeling like you had missed a substantial part of the exchange. Your grip on the doorknob tightened as if having control over that would make up for your lack of information right then.

“I told you to be on your best behaviour and get on her good side so we’d get an ass-kissing of an article out of it. This is a little extreme.”

“It’s none of your business.” His words held a warning, but they were so defensive; reeking of transgression that you had come to recognise so easily after carrying out your own guilt for so long.

She clicked her tongue, taking it in her stride and refusing to back down. “It is my goddamn business, Taeyong, everything about your life is my business. You know this.”

Your face suddenly felt tight, lips parting in stupefaction and an anxious lump making itself known in your throat that made it imperceptibly harder to breathe. For the first time in all your instances of listening in, you wanted to walk away lest you heard something- and yet, you didn’t know what you wanted to hide from.

But your feet were firmly planted to the ground, rooted in place as was your hand on the doorknob, blinking rapidly as you tried to process what was happening.

Intuition was meant to save you, so why was it mocking you?

“I have it under control, so just- just stay out of it, okay?” The agitation in his voice felt misplaced, a projection of what he couldn’t hold in.

“Will it fix everything?”

“Irene-”

“Goddamnit Taeyong, will we get an article that fixes everything?” The chill in the air bit into your skin, your own desperation almost matching the very same that was held in her voice, one that felt personal

“We will.”

Nothing could have ever prepared you for the sharp sting that tore through your chest at that moment, mercilessly destroying every shred of hope that you possessed. Scraps of the entire picture fell into place like a line of dominoes falling over, practically knocking you off your feet as all the air in your lungs escaped you

Her idea?

A good article?

Get on her good side?

You ripped your hand off the doorknob, recoiling so quickly that one would have assumed that the metal piece was made of fire, eyes widening in devastation as your heart sunk six feet under the ground. You staggered backwards, your feet carrying you as far away from the green room as they could before you could even comprehend the action, unaware of the happenings that took place as the world around you crumbled.

And along with it, your trust in Taeyong shattered just like your heart had, revealing him for what he truly was.

A dirty liar.

Escaping backstage, you stumbled out into the grounds, gasping for oxygen as if would help make sense of all that you had just heard and pull out whatever unsullied truth that could possibly lie between the muddled words. When you found nothing, the burn in your ribcage worsened in its intensity until you had to lean against the walls of the building for some- any- semblance of stability.

If you had been on cloud nine just a few minutes ago, you were now facing the torrential downpour.

You glanced up and peered at the Phoenix sky that had lost all its charm, never having looked as cold as it did right then.

Taeyong clicked his tongue, walking out of the green room and straightening out the sour expression that twisted his features, finding a certain comfort in the constant buzz backstage. To say that he despised when Irene brought up the topic of you and the article was an understatement, and she had started doing it more often, much to his despair.

He had started saying whatever the manager wanted to get her off his back, mindlessly nodding and agreeing with her questions and decisions to avoid any sort of unnecessary conflict. He knew she had noticed his complacent attitude, but it was all worth it if it meant he could spend the time he would usually use up arguing with Irene with you instead.

A small frown slipped onto his face at the realisation of you not being there, which was odd. You always tagged along on show days, so seeing you missing was odd.

A sliver of worry sequestered its way inside of him, but he shut it down just as quickly. There was always the possibility of you growing tired of having to sit through the same routine almost every week. Maybe you’d just show up for the show instead of the entire thing.

Having successfully convinced himself, he picked up his bass and walked back out to finish the sound check. He relaxed, any concern fading away the moment he found himself back on stage and singing into the mic with some of the people he loved the most in the world, even if it was just in an empty stadium.

It reappeared with a cruel vengeance when he saw that you hadn’t shown up for the show.

You couldn’t find it in yourself to plaster on a smile and walk back inside, surrendering to the pangs of hurt that seemed to come in waves, a viscous riptide that you had been caught in with no rescue team on the way. It pulled you further in until your feet could no longer reach the floor of the ocean and you were left to drown.

So you walk back to the bus, away from the growing discordance of fans arriving and back to the place you thought would alleviate the heaviness you felt. The journey back offered ruthless clarity, blaring in your face the moment you found yourself standing inside the bus when you realized that it all felt so uncharacteristically foreign.

Gone was the homely feeling that had grown over you every time you were inside of it, instead replaced with the same bleak frigidness that the sky had presented you with.

The very sentiment in your heart.

And so you walked back out, wishing you had a jacket to shield you from the constant chill in the air tonight, one that nipped harshly at your exposed skin, yet you couldn’t bear to go back inside to get one. You stood outside the bus, watching as the sun dipped below the skyline and the sky darkened even further until it was all one sorrowful colour- an unyielding dark blue.

The moon came into view, insulting you with the serene beauty it possessed no matter what the circumstances. On most nights, you would appreciate the way it was a constant, travelling back into the sky almost every night even though it knew the sun would eventually outshine it, breathing daylight onto the surface of the earth and rendering it forgotten. People regarded the moon as a thing of romance, the very notion made you scoff. The white light that it derived from the sun was nothing short of austere, desolate in its illumination. You shut your eyes, tipping your head upwards to bask in it, despising the way that you would never look at it the same way ever again because of this day, this evening and this night.

You stood out there for god knows how long, only realizing that hours had passed when you registered the dull ache on the soles of your feet and the clicking of cars opening and footsteps closening in.

Glancing to the source of the sound, your eyes searched for Taeyong out of habit and hardened when you finally spotted him walking over. It wasn’t as if you had forgotten that you would have to face him- you hadn’t at all- but it had been nice to pretend to not know for at least a little while.

He saw you standing there, looking at him with an expression that he couldn’t read no matter how much he tried to. Noticing that you were a little away from the buses, he muttered a mindless excuse to Yuta as he departed from the group to join you instead, questions rising to his mind with every step closer.

The way your heartbeat picked up the moment he was close enough for you to look at through your periphery was bitterly ironic, you had to bite down on your tongue to avoid letting out the humourless laugh that bubbled to your anxiously bitten lips. You hated the fragment of hope that naively slithered into you, how you were so aware of how foolish it was to even possess so little of it.

“Hey,” He muttered, faltering a little when you didn’t do so much as to look at him, opting to stare at your shoes instead of at him and the sound of his voice- the voice that always went straight to your stomach and scattered your thoughts without fail. When it happened once again, you panicked as he continued.

“You weren’t at the show today.”

And suddenly it made perfect sense why you still retained that hope for him.

“I wasn’t,” You confirmed his statement, hoping your voice hadn’t come out as choked up as it felt.

“Why?” The benignity in his question felt much too raw for you, your tongue stiffening into silence and laying heavily in your mouth. You heard the soft click of the tour bus door as it shut, leaving you alone with him under the twinkling stars and mercenary moon.

You didn’t know how to answer, letting out a shaky breath to brace yourself for whatever left your mouth in the next few minutes and to deal with the cold in your pathetic little way. “Does it matter?”

If he had thought something was wrong before, he definitely knew it now. There was a sense of detachment in the way you said it- not nonchalant per se, but more so like you were doing your best not to be concerned. He could see it in the slight quiver of your lower lip, the way you seemingly couldn’t bare to even steal a glance at him.

“Of course it matters, you matter Y/n.”

This. This was why you still hoped so futilely that everything you had heard was just a big misunderstanding, that you weren’t simply a means to an end. You had loved the way he made you feel; important and loved; how he spoke to you so affectionately and made you feel like you were the only woman he had ever wanted.

But hope and denial are two sides of the same coin, a double-edged sword of the sort, and the thing about double-edged swords is that it’s going to hurt no matter what way you twist it.

“If I matter so much, why did you lie to me?”

His breath caught in his throat and stayed there, forming a lump in his throat that seemed to restrict his breathing and ability to speak. “What?” He whispered out, strained.

You glimpsed at him subsequently, wondering just how long you had been living in blissful ignorance, how utterly gullible you had been when it came to Taeyong. How many times had you told him you believed him and trusted him without a doubt, handing over your fragile little heart to him to do as he pleased with it?

“I heard you talk to Irene,” You admitted hoarsely, your hand curling into a fist to keep yourself together the only way you could think of. “This entire thing- you and I; whatever the fuck we were- it’s a lie, isn’t it?” You abhorred the way your words came out brokenly as you looked into his eyes, attempting to peer inside his very soul to extract the answer from him, waiting for the resplendent rose of love that had bloomed in the cavity of your chest to make itself known.

The thing about roses was that although they protected themselves with their thorns, they never cared about those they hurt in the process.

“Y/n I-”

The rose wilted instead, the septic truth crudely cutting through your futile hope and forcing you to open your eyes to the reality of the world around you, never accounting for the state of pure agony it left you in. The regret that shone through those expressive eyes of his hurt you to your very core, confirming your worst suspicion.

“You’re a fucking liar.”

You could barely comprehend the words that left your lips, lips that had been kissed by the traitor that stood in front of you right then. “I trusted you Taeyong, and all you did was lie to me.”

“I didn’t want to,” He said weakly, not bothering to even attempt to deny the accusation you had thrown at him, his voice failing him every time he thought of doing so. He thought of every moment you had shared your own vulnerability with him when you so lovingly put out the truth for him about what you were doing and how he had so shamelessly continued to love you while betraying you at the same time. “You were never meant to hear that.”

It was almost satirical, so much so that you had to scoff humourlessly at that, hating the sudden ache that was present behind your eyes and the dampness that followed. “So you just planned to keep lying to me? Wow.” You laughed bitterly and looked back at the sky, willing your tears to disappear. You couldn’t bear the idea of crying in front of the man that hurt you so badly, he didn’t deserve another second of weakness from you. “Real nice.”

“No that wasn’t-” Frustration bled into his voice, guilt slamming into his chest so violently that it drowned out every other emotion inside of him, consuming him whole until all he could do was defeatedly stare at the mess he had made of everything; you and him.

“I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.”

Oh, how the mighty had fallen.

The world was cruel to drop such an unexpected heartbreak onto you when you had never been looking for love in the first place. You had been here to do a job that would push you ahead in the world of journalism. Unadulterated fury filled your veins because you were angry and so deeply hurt.

“What did you mean, then?”

He couldn’t say a single thing, now the one who shied away from meeting your tormented features. He hated the fact that it was him that had rendered you like this when it had never been his intention- truly it hadn’t- he would never hurt you on purpose. He had tried to keep it under wraps to avoid hurting you, had grown disdainful of talking about it with Irene for this very reason.

It was all his fault, intentional or not.

His silence killed you, clawing at your skin as if attempting to reach the broken pieces of your heart as tears cascaded down the flushed skin of your face despite your attempts to blink them away. You should have known that it was too perfect to be true, you should have known that something would go wrong sooner or later.

You just didn’t expect it to be sooner.

“You may have not slept your way to the top, but you sure as hell slept with me to fix your reputation.” Your voice cut through, shakier than you would have liked. You would never forget the sincerity in his voice when he told you it wasn’t true, but then again, wasn’t it the very thing he had done to save himself?

His selfish tendencies had once again caught up with him, ripping the rug from right beneath his feet before he even realised it was happening.

You had run yourself dry, left with nothing but the shards of your heart lying around you, mocking you for every opening up to someone you had known was unattainable. Picking up the pieces of whatever dignity you had left to call your own, you spoke quietly into the wind, just loud enough for him to hear.

“You want a good article? I’ll give you your damn article.”

If there had meant to be any malice in your voice, your weariness had squeezed it all out, leaving you with nothing but a sorrowful muttering of the words and somehow that hurt more than any yelling ever could. He flinched, shutting his eyes and going over every single thing he regretted about what he had done, wishing he could go back in time to undo it all and withdraw the grief he had bestowed upon you.

A few days ago, you had thought you would be the one to disrupt his world but stopped just in time for his sake and he had taken advantage of it all.

You had finally fallen in love and realized why you never let yourself do so before.

The air was far too cold for you to cope with anymore, a stark contrast to the hot tears that make their way down your face, blistering your skin. You brushed past his stoic figure and forced yourself back into the claustrophobic tour bus, ignoring the concerned looks thrown in your direction and for once in your life wishing that you could be well and truly invisible. The only comfort you received was the warmth of your makeshift bed as your pillow stained with the rest of your unspoken sorrow.

Like the unused, weak strings of his old guitar, the trust and love you had for Taeyong snapped, and the recoil had been the harshest thing you ever had to deal with.

People liked broken things.

Things, humans- it was all the same to them. Once the public had noticed his scar, they turned it into something to love, romanticising it and saying that it gave him character. He supposed that in a way, they were right, but he could never forget what it truly meant for him.

The stage lights were too bright, beating down on his face. They had been getting brighter with every show until he could barely even make out the crowd that so eagerly cheered for him and his boys. He adjusted the mic in front of him and donned a practised grin that was almost entirely believable as they got ready to perform their next song. A sad song.

Sadness and misery were as excellent muses as they were callous, any emotion could be if it was powerful enough to drown out everything else. Fans assumed that because of this very fact, producing any sort of art form using these emotions as your basis was easy and natural.

It wasn’t. It was the hardest thing in the world to put your hurt out there for the world to gawk at and judge like they had the right to do so.

And so he began to sing, but there was a certain weightage to his cadence that dragged the song down, making it truly poignant and inciting tears from the onlookers. Every syllable that left his coral lips was difficult to pronounce, but somehow, he managed to choke them out just in time and miraculously in tune with the music that had long faded into the background.

He did this again and again, over and over until he felt ashamed to do so but had to because of what was expected of him. Every time he looked in the mirror and put on that notorious smile of his, it seemed to glare back at him, taunting and jeering at him for everything he had done.

But he wore anyway, day in and day out for the cameras, lips pressed together so tight that no one even noticed when it continually faltered. Every show, he put his miserly heartbreak out on display, mingled with the guilt that had harboured roots in his fragmented soul, pushing themselves into the cracks and splitting it into even smaller pieces.

It didn’t matter. You weren’t around to see it.

You were something of a ghost, keeping to your upper level of the tour bus and avoiding the lower one with every fibre of your shattered being. The faraway look in your eyes seemed to be a new permanent aspect of your personality, along with your perpetual absence from every show and every aspect of the tour.

Instead, you sat alone with your laptop as your only companion, teeth ground together and eyebrows pulled taut as you stared at the blinding white document that lay before you. You would type out a few words and then proceed to press your index finger to the backspace button and erase it all, letter by stingy letter like they had never been put out into the world in the first place. And then you would be left with a blank canvas once again within those metal walls.

You would emerge from your sanctuary occasionally to perhaps grab some food or take a walk to clear your head, and then you would see him from across the room and forget why you were there. His eyes would meet yours and you would simply hold the gaze for a few seconds, empty and then full of everything you wanted to say but couldn’t.

Then you would look away and life would drag you along like the moment had never existed. For the days that you were forced to be around everyone, you would smile and silently envy the way the band could do it so naturally without even having a second thought about if it looked fake.

Your smile was fake and Taeyong knew it from a single glance. He knew it from the way your eyes stayed dull as the sides of your mouth curved upwards painfully like it killed you to do so.

He knew he had lost you the moment he saw that hollow smile.

He couldn’t bear to speak to you and reap the results of what he had sown, and you couldn’t bear to listen, a spiteful sort of yin and yang situation that was slowly eating away at the both of you. It left him with no choice but to watch as you made yourself scarce, a phantom of his every misgiving that haunted him even when he shut his eyes. You were still there.

Two broken hearts brushing past each other every single day without truly ever making contact, going on with their days with so much to say and nothing at all.

It was a good thing people liked broken things.

But this? This was what showbiz was. It was messy and brutal and most of all, ugly. Under all the makeup touch-ups and glamorous lifestyle and glittering lights, at the end of the day you had to shed all of it off and see it for what it really was:

A godforsaken trap.

And so the last few shows dragged on, the last few days slipped by and suddenly they were walking backstage after their final show. Staff hollered jovially, drinks were being passed around in celebration, but he couldn’t get himself to relax, not when you were standing only a few feet away from him with that forlorn look in your eyes and a pitiful smile plastered on your face. Not when you were so close, not when all he could do was reach out and barely touch you before you disappeared again, slipping away from his grasp once again.

What a cruel time for him to realize he loved you.

Your two suitcases knocked into the back of your legs as you fished out your keys from the carry-on bag that was slung around your shoulders, slotting them into the lock of your apartment door. You twisted the metal things once, twice, until the door gave way and swung open, giving you a view of the place that you had so proudly once called your home.

The familiar homely scent had somewhat faded in the time you had been gone, now mingled with a musty, forgotten type of smell that quickly found settled deep into your skin, leaving you to straighten up your hunched posture and sigh heavily. Turning around, you gripped the handles of your bags, pulled them inside behind you and shut the door as quietly as you could to not wake up anybody. Your flight back to Los Angeles had been an early morning one, and so there you were at five in the morning, standing in your doorway like an idiot.

The last time you had been in LA had been barely a month ago, but this wasn’t where you had slept.

It had been in between the delicate sheets of Taeyong’s bed and arms that held you like you had been everything to him. You almost scoffed at the memory of your naivety, and at how easily you had been swayed by the star-studded lifestyle you had plunged yourself into.

Or perhaps it was just how easily you had fallen in love with someone so utterly elusive.

He was now probably halfway across the world in a private jet while you were right back where you had started. You had watched them leave, before turning around and walking away, away from the lights and tabloids and shy smiles in poorly lit-up tour buses that would forever remain a secret from the rest of the world.

And him.

You dropped your keys on the table as you dragged your suitcases with you, collapsing down on your worn-out couch and sinking into the cushions as the exhaustion of the entire ordeal hit you all at once. Your eyes fluttered shut as you took a minute to gather all your thoughts and pull yourself together.

His face flickered through your mind, causing your throat to close up in on itself as you snapped your eyes open, sucking in an arduous breath through your teeth.

“Y/n.”

You recalled how he called out your name just before they left for their jet, how he sounded almost desperate to get whatever he was about to say off his chest. Even with how tired you were, you recalled every second of the interaction perfectly, down to the way you turned to face him when he said your name so perfectly.

He stopped in his tracks as the others walked a little away from him, nearly wincing at the way your eyes wouldn’t meet his and the hesitancy you displayed. It was too late for you and him, it was too little too late to fix what he had done.

“I lied about us to them,” He never once looked away from you even if you couldn’t look at him. He couldn’t bear to look away if this was going to be the last time he ever saw you.

“But nothing about us was ever a lie.”

His words haunted you with every step further you took from them, on the plane as you tried to forget it and as you picked up your luggage and called a cab. As you climbed the tiresome stairs of your apartment complex and even now as you sat there, you were pathetically thinking about it even though you had tried everything you could to forget.

But Lee Taeyong wasn’t the type of person you could forget easily, not when you could still imagine how it felt when he touched you and the weight of his gaze. The earnest remorse that laced his voice.

You punched in the code to your suitcase lock, unzipped it and pulled your laptop out. The cool metal rested upon your jean-clad legs, the blue light causing you to frown as you opened up your document and began to write, but not out of any sort of inspiration. You wrote out of the anger that had settled deep within your soul and motivated you.

Anger at his audacity to think that it would be alright to make you fall in love with him just to avoid the possibility of his notoriety falling apart. You typed out everything you possibly could about what he had done and how it was all true, every single accusation you could throw at his face and how he truly did sleep his way to the top because for fucks sake, he certainly did it with you, didn’t he?

Then you stopped amidst your hateful frenzy, realising that there was no way you could do that to him. If you did, you were no better than that bastard Jungwoo. You stared at what you had written, reading it twice, three times and swallowing the telltale lump that had formed in your throat. Selecting it all, you glimpsed at the blue highlight and deleted it with a single click because you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

But you were so, so unbelievably angry.

Unconsolable rage consumed every fibre of your being, leaving you with clenched fists and gritted teeth until you accepted what it really was: grief. A broken sob escaped your chapped lips, the wretched sound breaking the silence that had been weighing you down for the past half hour you sat there in your apartment.

You were grieving a love that you still felt so strongly but was never yours to claim in the first place.

And you cried for the first time since the day you confronted him, at last comprehending that your anger was simply the sheer heartbreak you felt in its rawest form, the very proof that you had loved. You broke down in the dead of the night, feeling so implausibly alone in the midst of everything that had happened these past few months.

Before you had even known it, everything you had ever wanted had slipped right through your grasp, leaving you to grieve its loss all by yourself. You weren’t sure when Taeyong had become your every dream rolled into one magnificent wish, but it burned brighter than any wish you had ever had, which was perhaps why it hurt so bad.

How had the ultimate opportunity turned into something that shattered your very soul? Life had a merciless sense of humour because even though you had made the spiteful promise of writing an article that would destroy him, you couldn’t go through with it, because when you loved someone, you could never intentionally hurt them.

You exhaled shakily, staring at the empty document through the heavy thumping of your ruptured heart in your ears and the blur of your tears, blinking them out of your eyes. Then, in the dead silence of the early morning, as the sleeping world stirred to life and began with their monotonous days, you began to write.

And what was it that you wrote?

“What the hell is this?”

You calmly held Johnny’s gaze, a mixture of frantic and fury burning in his eyes as he glared at you. The velveteen cushioning of the seat under you was all too familiar, as were the wooden floors beneath the heels of your shoes, the first time you had stepped into The Link’s building in a long time.

“The article you assigned me,” You responded plainly, spurring any sort of emotion that threatened to make a show on your face. He shut his eyes and visibly sucked in a laboured breath, tapping his fingers impatiently on his desk.

“You’ve made some…..serious claims here,” He started to reason with you, and you could already see where this little colloquy was going to go. Gripping your phone, you took a careful note of the restraint that was displayed in his voice, but refused to back down from your own goal. “Ones that don’t fall under our initial arrangement.”

There were definitely some liberties you had taken with your article, but none of them were things of fallacy. You were well aware that it was the reason the editor was so skittish, although he tried to hide it to the best of his abilities from the way he pulled at his tie to loosen it around his collar ever so slightly and cleared his throat. It was a thing of amusement, to watch him try and figure out how to convey what he wanted to you without giving away what he had done.

You had been through too much to be thwarted by someone who was also in the wrong in the entire situation. You were done being a pawn in their little game.

“There wasn’t any arrangement, you said I had to write an article and I did just that.”

“Y/n.” He said your name defeatedly, “where did you get this information from? It’s so out of the blue.”

And with that, you pressed play on the recording of the call you had with Jungwoo a few months ago, watching carefully as Johnny’s expression shifted from weariness to shock as it played out. When your voice came through, telling Jungwoo you had overheard Renjun speak to the editor, all colour drained from his face.

Pausing the recording, you leaned forward in your seat, a corporate smile playing upon your lips in triumph.

“That’s how I know my claims are true because I have confirmation from one of the people involved in the audio proof. The only dirt around Taeyong’s name is the dirt you planted there.” You said this firmly, trying to ignore the way his name felt heavy on your tongue.

Johnny clenched his jaw. “Look-”

“Publish my article,” You interrupted, more tranquil than you thought you would be when it came to this. There wasn’t a bone in your body that was scared when you put your terms out for him. “Or I will publish it myself and put Junwoo’s and your name on it. If you post it, I will let your less-than-ethical arrangement slide with only Renjun having to face the consequences.”

He clicked his tongue, knowing that he had no choice but to go through with your requests and although he didn’t particularly like it, he couldn’t help but admire the way you went about it. You had gone over and beyond with your journalistic work, cracking the truth behind it all and making sure the odds were in your favour.

You had proven yourself to be a kick-ass journalist, no doubt one of the best of your generation. A grin made a show on his features, respecting you a lot more now that he knew what you were capable of.

“Consider it done.”

You returned his smile with a genuine one of your own this time around and warned faintly, “No major edits.”

He shut his laptop and nodded. “Not one.” Satisfied with his answer and the knowledge of him being far too smart to double-cross you when you had such damning leverage, you stood to your feet and turned to leave his office when he called out.

“And Y/n? Excellent job.”

As you stepped out into the busy corridors of The Link’s building, you felt a sense of warm pride wash over you at what you had managed to accomplish. You let yourself breathe in the cool air-conditioned air that held the slightest tone of coffee in it and held your phone up, knowing that you had one last thing to do, but it was the most important of them all.

You selected the audio recording until the option to share it popped up, clicking on it and swiftly forwarding the call to a certain manager. Then, you slipped the device into the pockets of your coat and walked away, leaving every cumbersome worry that you could behind.

THE TRUE ‘CHERRY ON TOP’.

These past few months, I have had the opportunity to accompany the band Cherry Bomb on the American leg of their ongoing world tour, as I’m sure most of you have been keeping up with.

From the very start, I was thrust into a world far too glamorous for me to ever keep up with, from the shows to the red carpet events and parties. I had never been the type of journalist that involved myself with the happenings of their research, but this was my exception. It was nearly impossibly to not get caught up with it all, especially when everyone around me was so inviting.

People talk about some celebrities being genuine and the nicest people they could ever meet and Cherry Bomb fit this description to the T. All of them are so wonderfully unique and lovely to converse with, dare I say, befriend, that it was only a matter of time before I was comfortable around them. Never once did they ever make me feel like an outsider even though I was very much exactly that.

These men live and breathe their music and are the most passionate people I will ever meet.

I even had the pleasure of viewing one of their concerts and when I saw them up there on that stage, I could understand why they are so successful. Seeing Nakamoto Yuta give it his all behind those drums of his, Lee Mark and Lee Jeno complimenting each other with their parts, Kim Doyoung and his genius playing the keyboard, and finally, Lee Taeyong standing up there with his bass guitar and leading it all- it was a truly magical experience.

Initially, when I first started my research and drafting of this piece, I had convinced myself that I would be writing a little bit on every member, but now that the experience is over, I have decided to take a different route, one that tied into all that I have mentioned above.

It is a known fact that there is a rumour going around about the reason why the band is so popular, one that states that their success is due to the frontman, Lee Taeyong, sleeping his way to the top.

I am writing this article to very firmly counter that statement with the truth because the rumour is crude and very false.

Their crushing success is to only be credited to themselves because they have worked tirelessly for it. I have received a first-hand look at the amount of effort they put into everything they do, and they are the most hard-working people I know. It is not because of Taeyong’s sleeping habits in the slightest.

After some more research, it had come to my attention that these rumours had started because of a single, unassuming catalyst: their very own publicist, Huang Renjun.

The aforementioned publicist was the one to plant the seed of all the rumours, that catalyst if you will, quietly hiding under anonymity to avoid being caught out for his actions. The article that was written about the entire (fake) ordeal was written by a journalist working for the very paper I write for, as I have to admit with much regret.

I am not aware of his motives as to why he decided to go so far as to lie about the very artists he was supposed to protect, but when I say that this is the truth, it is. My aim with this piece is to tell the truth, and the only lie presented within these words is the telling of the one that the publicist told.

The ‘Cherry On Top’ tour is no doubt one of the best they have ever played, each show exceeding the last, and a true testimony to the great musicians they are. Every one of them has given their all and sacrificed a lot to be out there doing what they love, even if it feels like they have been handed their success, they most certainly have not been.

And Lee Taeyong certainly did not sleep his way to the top.

- Y/n L/n, The Link.

Afterparties had been a thing of enjoyment at one point in Taeyong’s life and although that time had not been too long ago at all, it certainly felt like it. He recollected how easy it used to be for him to indulge in such meaningless practices and when he used to think that getting blackout drunk was good fun.

It had been two months.

The concert in Paris was an astounding success and he had only been just a little tipsy while performing. Alcohol and cigarettes had turned into something of a coping mechanism for him, but now as he stood amidst other celebrities he didn’t know and different socialites that somehow managed to get into the party in a bar in The Marais, he felt much too sober. The glass in his hand felt heavy as he gripped it, the edges lightly digging into his skin.

He had never realized how jarring his lifestyle was until this moment, detesting the way it was so superficial. The glitz, the lights, the girls- all the appeal that they once possessed had long faded into the background, leaving him to grit his teeth and pretend to be enjoying himself as he walked several red carpets that he very frankly, did not give a fuck about. For the first time, he felt like a fraud, undeserving of the spotlight that had been bestowed upon him so long ago, attention that he would have to take to his grave.

The change in his demeanour had been picked up by his bandmates, but they didn’t say anything. He suspected that they had an inkling of what had happened that night between you and him, but had decided to give him space.

Space had led to him making several mistakes if the empty glass bottles and occasional stranger in his hotel bed said anything.

But there was only so much one person could handle.

He turned around, pushing through the turbulent crowd until he found himself standing outside the bar, calling one of their cars to take him back to the hotel early, back to the solitude of his temporary room. He knew that his absence would be noted, perhaps even given to the press as a tip-off, but he could care less about it.

Taeyong couldn’t stand the thought of staying there and plastering on his poker face for even a second longer. He had ignored everyone anyway, including the lineup of ruffled girls who had evidently been very upset over not managing to catch his fancy for the night. He knew there would be whispers about his reluctance, the faltering happy expression that he had tried so hard to keep plastered on his lips.

But how could he even pretend to be happy when in every single person, he could see you?

He slipped into the car, leaning back in the seat as he instructed the driver of his destination, glancing out of the windows to view the smoky nightlife of Paris at such a late hour. Everything was much darker than one would imagine, giving the city of love a much more desolate feeling, lonely even. The streetlights flickered uncertainly, casting their yellow light onto the pavements. Taeyong nearly wanted to get out of the car and walk down those pathways, to be able to pretend that there weren’t going to be people trailing him with their flashy cameras for just a few minutes of seclusion that the night provided so mercifully.

He didn’t though, instead waiting until the driver parked the car and politely told him that they had reached. He dragged himself back up to his room until he was met with the room he shared with no one and a minibar that was conveniently right next to his bed.

Love was the type of emotion that was tempestuous and violent, but it never acted alone. For most, it was with adoration and fulfilment, but for him, it was tainted with the guilt he so desperately tried to escape with every emptied glass bottle that sat in the trash. It was at times like these when you would pop into his mind without fail and he was once again reminded of the fact that you weren’t by his side.

And he had no one to blame for that but himself.

But god, he missed you.

He missed your smile and the way you’d try to control your excitement, the look in your eyes when you were passionate about something that contrasted the shyness that would enter your voice, and the way your hands would oh so gently cup his face. He missed the infectious tinkling of your laughter and the dedication you possessed when it came to your job and just you.

He hated what he had become and most of all hated the thought of being someone you couldn’t love or want. The prospect of you never needing him again even though he knew he needed you more than anything.

The brandy in his glass burned his throat as he allowed it to numb every splinter of penitence that swirled in the pits of his stomach, eyes closed as he tried to forget you.

An impossible feat.

A sharp, almost frantic knock on the door of his room snapped him out of his reverie. Glancing at the clock on the wall, he could only frown when he registered the time. 5:00 am. Who could it have been at such an early hour?

He contemplated pretending to be asleep so that the person would hopefully move on, but when another rap on the door came not even a minute later, he relented and walked over to open it. Once he swung it open, he was met with Irene standing there, phone in hand as her ever-vigilant eyes fell upon his slightly dishevelled figure and grew disapproving for a split second. He had forgotten that she tended to be an early riser no matter how late her evenings got.

To his surprise, beginning to speak before he could even attempt to comprehend what was happening. “You actually did it.”

“I- what?”

“The rumours- they’ve dissipated. They hold no merit anymore because you got that article, you son of a bitch.” Her eyes gleamed with pride as she spoke, thrusting her phone in his face resolutely. “It got released yesterday, and I would have seen it sooner but Renjun isn’t around anymore.” She said the publicist's name with a substantial amount of scorn, shaking her hand about in his face so that he would take the phone from her.

Her mention of the article had his heart in his mouth as dumbfoundedness bled into his fatigued features. “Wait, what do you mean Renjun isn’t here?”

“He’s fired,” She said flatly. “Because he’s a rat.”

“I still don’t follow.” He was too tired for her cryptic messages and in no mood to even think about entertaining them. She sighed.

“Renjun was the one who started the rumours, and I would have never known if Y/n had not sent me proof of it and written that article. I would have seen her message sooner but you know how it is with my inbox, always full.” The moment your name left her mouth, Taeyong couldn’t truly focus on the rest of what she was saying, nodding along mindlessly where he thought was the right point. More than anything, he wanted to ask Irene about you, what you had said and maybe, just maybe, if you had asked about him.

“Somehow she found out that it was Renjun who decided to spew bullshit about you,” she gritted out, “but it’s all dealt with, and his entire career in the industry is over. You should read the article by the way, after all, you’re responsible for it. I sent you a link to it.”

She plucked her phone out of his hands and walked away, leaving him to hurriedly fumble with his own. He shut the door and clicked on the link Irene sent him, more so to have even a little part of you for a few minutes than you truly find out what had taken place, eyes scanning over every word you had written until he reached the very end.

And it was then that carefully curated expression of his finally crumbled, and for the first time in a long time, Taeyong let himself cry.

NOVEMBER; ALBUM OF THE YEAR GRAMMY NOMINATIONS:

— Solo; Kim Jennie — Maniac; Haechan — Pop!; Nayeon — Ruby; Lee Jihoon — Cherry On Top; Cherry Bomb

To: [email protected] Subject: NYT interview proposition.

Greetings Miss L/n,

Your recent article about Cherry Bomb has been making waves in the journalism world, and we at the NYT have taken notice.

This email is written in the hopes that you would consider sitting for an interview for our newspaper. After reviewing your past work, we have concluded that we would love to have a journalist like you on board. Your writing style is concise and conveys what it needs to, a quality we appreciate.

It is evident that you strive to put your best foot forward and are not afraid to take risks, something that is considered very rare. For these reasons, we would love to offer you this opportunity. Salary and such will be discussed in person, which is how we would like to hold this interview.

We look forward to receiving a positive response.

Tiffany Young.

Head of HR- New York Times.

[email protected]

It was human tendency to gravitate toward the very things that destroyed them. You supposed that very inclination was the reason you were there on your couch once again, the stem of a half-full wine glass resting between your index and middle finger, the cool mouth of it pressed to your tinted lips. The redness from the drink had stained them, your eyes trained on the television screen in front of you.

There wasn’t a point for you to be viewing the Grammys, but something had pushed you to do so and so there you were as the entire arena where the award show was held was shown. The cool February air jabbed unsolicitedly at the skin of your arms even with your heater on, and you let the sweet fermented drink kiss your throat soothingly to combat the chill.

You knew that they were going to be there.

You could hardly believe that it had been five months since you had seen them and so perhaps this was you satiating the small part of you that missed them.

As you watched the opening performance, you realized that you hadn’t the slightest interest in anything else but the singular award that they had been nominated for. So if that was the case, why were you subjecting yourself to sit through the entire ordeal? You leaned over to pick the television remote up to switch it off and release yourself from this mundane sort of self-affliction.

The camera panned over the five men you were there for a brief moment and instantly you stopped, settling back into your seat. Of course, they would show them within the first few minutes of the show, they had the entire world at their heels.

The entire world waiting in anticipation for the results of the nominations just like you.

The first hour of the show past painfully slowly and yet, you didn’t move, waiting patiently for it to happen. It felt odd, the fact that it was taking place right there in LA and you had to watch through a screen anyway. The fact that they were so close to you, back home and within your reach, felt a little unreal to you.

Kim Mingyu himself walked across the stage, grinning at the road of clapping that followed his every step. You allowed a small simper to make a show at his appearance, recalling the night of the party you had attended with the boys and how it had ended with you and Taeyong out on one of the numerous balconies of his mansion.

“Thank you, thank you!” He waved his hand politely to calm the audience. “I am beyond honoured to be here presenting this award tonight! Now, I’m aware all of you are here for me,” he paused as a light pattering of laughter made its way around the hall, “but I do have a job to do, so without further ado, here are your nominees for this year's Album of the Year!”

He listed out the five nominees, the camera focusing on each of them as he said their names for a few seconds. When it came to Cherry Bomb, you mentally chastised yourself for how quickly your eyes sought out a politely smiling Taeyong sitting with the rest of his mates. This wasn’t their first time attending, they had won the award twice before, the first time for being the best new artist when they had just started, and the second was for this very award.

Needless to say, there was a lot of pressure on them.

You could see glimpses of their nerves shine through their smiles and the way they held their drinks. Then, it went to Nayeon, who had already won one Grammy that evening and had it standing proud on her table, evidently calm because of its presence.

Mingyu smiled right when the cameras returned to him, showing off his perfect, pearly white teeth. He lifted the golden envelope in his hands, “And your winner for the Album of the Year for this year's Grammys is….”

Everyone held their breath, including the nominees themselves. Little shots of them popped up side by side on your television, showing you the way Yuta visibly stiffened in anticipation and how Taeyongs fingers curled around the flute of his glass, eyes trained on the stage and at the announcer, his friend.

Mingyu flipped the top of the envelope open and pulled out the card that held the winner in one swift motion, holding it a little away from him before his eyes lit up. He then bent down a little so that his mouth was once again in line with the microphone, letting the audience stew in their anxiety for just a second longer.

“CHERRY BOMB!”

Cheers erupted as the screen enlargened on them as their smiles grew wide and genuine, a sharp exhale leaving your wine-stained lips. Something like a weight had been lifted off your tired shoulders and you sat up straight, your lips curling up in a relieved and glad smile for them. For the strangers you had grown so close to in so little time.

As for Taeyong, he had barely registered it when he heard the name of the band he had formed when he was just a teenager. He had to stop himself from flinching at the thunderous clapping, eyes blown wide when he finally realized that they had done it. They had won.

Doyoung leaned over to hug Jeno, and then Taeyong as they got to their feet, bashfully smiling in elation at achieving their ultimate goal of the previous year. He took a cautionary sip of the bubbly champagne that sat inside the flute he held and placed it down, straightening out his suit as he led the walk to and up the small stage.

Mingyu handed him the golden gramophone statue, whispering congratulations away from the mic for only them to hear and exchanging hugs, before walking off stage. He turned to face the audience with his best friends right at his side and thousands- millions even- of people clapping for them.

“Wow this…” he trailed off, glancing down at the award in his hands with a nervous simper playing on his face. “Firstly we’d like to thank the recording academy and god- the list is far too long, but wow, thank you to our incredible fans and our manager Irene Bae who always knows what to do. Qian Kun our producer, Alexandra, James and the rest of our amazing team.” He spouted every name he could remember, doing his best to sound grateful because he truly was.

There was just one thing.

“And thank you to one person out there who knows who she is,” He gripped the award better, Adam’s apple bobbing slightly in his throat as his tone quieter, staring right into the camera. “I think about you every day.”

You.

The need to breathe deeply arose all of a sudden, leaving you to suck in a large gulp of air while you wondered if the wine had finally gone to your head. And you knew as he held the award up once again with a gratified expression on his face and shook it slightly, and as he handed it to his members, that he was talking about you.

And he had won, all of them had. Through every hardship and roadblock, they managed to get to the other side in triumph.

The pride that swelled in your chest for him along with the warm pressure behind your eyes told you all you needed to know. As the first cup of wine turned into your third, you were drowning in the realization that you still loved him vicariously with every broken piece of your heart that still belonged to him.

History liked repeating itself.

Once again you stood in your living room with suitcases- suitcase, singular this time around. It was a small one with just enough items to last you an entire week in New York City. There was plenty of time before you had to leave for your flight, one that you had booked well in advance and had given yourself enough time in the city to not throw yourself straight into the interview.

You could have gone three days later and you would have been fine on time, and yet there you were, standing by your couch while clutching the handle of your bag. Your flight was at seven the next morning and it was ten post meridian right now, so to say you were early was an understatement. In truth, you had no idea why you were so cautious about everything you were doing, and neither did you understand why you felt like you had to leave right at this very moment.

But not to the airport. The airport was the last place you were thinking of then. If you left for the airport, you would have been leaving behind unfinished business in your wake.

There was so much to consider if you left, if you did get the job that you had been dreaming of for so long. Bank work, resigning from The Link, ending your apartment lease- and the most important of them all, if you could live with leaving without seeing him again.

“I lied about us to them.”

Regret was a funny thing, it nipped and poked at your insides until you had no choice but to acknowledge its infuriating presence. It made you think things you did not want to, forcing them to the front of your idle mind until you gave up trying to fight.

“But nothing about us was ever a lie.”

His last words to you echoed through the chambers of your mind, eliciting a sigh. You still hadn’t the slightest idea what he had meant by that, or the possible implications it retained. It gave rise to questions that would stay in the forefront of your thoughts without any answers.

And before you knew it, you let go of the suitcase handle and grabbed your keys, slipping out of your apartment and calling a cab. Within minutes you were sitting inside said cab, telling the driver Taeyong’s address before you could talk yourself out of it. It was so impulsive, so completely unlike you that you were a tad concerned, but you wanted answers. The memory of where he lived in the city was burned into your memory, the information finally proving to be useful.

For all you knew, you could have made the right decision that day to walk away and this would all be for nought.

But it could have also been your biggest mistake.

The elevator ride up to his penthouse was when your intrusive thoughts returned with full force. You had miraculously managed to keep them at bay in the cab, but now as you waited in that metallic little box, you couldn’t help but try and dissect why you were here. You could have perhaps slept for a little before your flight, or checked if you had everything you needed for the nth time.

Instead, you were there, walking out into the hallway of the building he stayed at that was almost haunted with the ghosts of your past selves rushing through it the morning after that night, hand in hand with soft giggles and secretive smiles being passed around. A self-inflicted déjà vu, or perhaps not, because history truly did love to repeat itself, cyclical in nature as it went through the motions of a story it already knew so well.

Now all that stood between him and you was a measly wooden door.

What if he wasn’t at home? What if he wasn’t staying there for the night and instead with the boys? What if he wasn’t even in Los Angeles, but rather somewhere else and you had wasted all this time?

You knocked. Then you took a step back and waited.

When you heard the slightest padding of footsteps and the rattle of the door, you knew that there was no turning back. When the door opened, the warmth of his apartment hit you all at once, leaving you to unclench your anxious fists and stare at the person that stood at the doorframe.

“Y/n?”

You couldn’t stop the shiver that ran through your body when he said your name ever so softly, his eyes wide but softened at the sight of you as if he could hardly believe you were real. Locking eyes with him, you once again felt the effects of having his gaze upon you, the intenseness of it trained on just you. You didn’t think you would ever understand how he managed to have such an effect on you.

“Can I come in?” Your question came out timidly as you averted your gaze, knowing that if you kept it locked with his you would never be able to finish what you had started. You didn’t see him nod, but felt him move aside and push the door further open for you. When you were inside, he shut the door and turned to you, unsure of what to say.

Nothing had changed inside his place, nor had much about him other than appearances. His hair was darker now, the hint of red you had grown used to missing and replaced with a solid brown that matched the swirl in his eyes.

“You’re here,” Taeyong mumbled almost inaudibly. “Why are you here?”

He hadn’t thought he would ever see you in person ever again, least of all standing in front of him in his house- what had been a home for a few minutes that night- in all your stifled glory.

You looked to the side and out the expansive windows that stretched out from the ceiling to the floors, out at the twinkling city. The last time you had been here, the curtains in the living room had been drawn closed, giving you privacy from the rest of the world's prying eyes.

“I don’t know.” But you did know, what you needed from him was so painfully obvious that you couldn’t even bring yourself to say it. “This was a mistake.”

He studied you, from the ever so slight tremble of your lower lip to your unfocused eyes that wouldn’t look at him. “No, it wasn’t.”

The way he could read you so easily was ridiculous to you, causing you to scoff under your breath as a frustrated smile made its way onto your face.

“I don’t understand you.” And you truly couldn’t because people like him were so evasive and fleeting, always just a little too far out of your reach. He paused, eyes flitting all over your expression as if trying to assess what you meant by that, what you wanted- no, needed- from him. “You say you want me in your life and then proceed to lie about us to everyone else already in it. But you tell me nothing about us was a lie.” You sucked in a shaky breath, going over everything that had happened between the two of you.

“Y/n-”

But now that you had started letting it all out, there was no stopping you.

“And I don’t know what to believe, because I placed all my trust in you and you just- you broke it like it meant nothing.” His heart broke when your voice did, putting himself in your shoes. How confused and hurt you must have been, to think you were nothing but an easy way out of a tricky situation.

“No,” he whispered, contrite, “it meant everything to me.”

You stayed silent, letting the silence blanket the both of you. The faint ticking of the second hand on a clock somewhere in the room made up for it.

“Have you made me a liar, Taeyong?”

The earnestness that laced your voice along with the way you finally, finally looked at him had him instinctively reach out to touch you and hold you and wipe away the pain that he had inflicted on you, but he stopped himself just in time, letting his arm fall limply to his side in vanquish.

“God, no,” He almost exclaimed, shouted even, wanting to do anything he could think of to prove himself to you, to get through to you. “I told you the truth that night, I never lied to you about wanting you Y/n, I never fucking lied about that.”

You remembered that night all too well and shut your eyes once again to counter the telltale warmth of your eyes.

“Even when it all started? When you first kissed me?”

“Even then.” The way he stated it with so much fervour made your thinking come to a halt.

“Then tell me the truth,” you said ultimately, “the full truth.”

That one request was all he needed to divulge everything that had happened, the way the rumours about him were getting to a bad point, how worried Irene was about it and her warning to them. How everyone assumed that everything he was doing with you was for their benefit and nothing else, and how he stupidly- utterly senselessly- went along with it to make things easier. The way that he completely forgot about him having to win you over for a purpose because he genuinely wanted you for just you, and how he regretted every sore decision he made.

And you listened as every question of yours got its answer and locked itself away from your memory, the sincerity in his voice finding you and holding your hands, squeezing them until you could let them go. Half of you wanted to hate him more than anything, to scream and cry and make him hurt the way he hurt you.

But the thing was, you already knew he was hurting. And the other half of you wanted it to stop because loving someone meant shielding them from any sort of hurt.

And you loved him more than you had ever loved anyone or anything.

“Telling them I was with you for a good article was a lie. It was still a lie even if I didn’t mean it.” There was Lee Taeyong, seemingly on top of the world with everyone at his feet, confessing to you what no one else knew. For your eyes only.

“And I’m so sorry for it.”

When you opened your eyes, he was looking at you, his round eyes filled with so much sorrow, so much desperate hope that you would believe him as you did so trustingly all those months ago. All that vulnerability out in the open again for you to peer at and judge, but did you even have the right?

“You really hurt me, you know,” You mumbled slowly, cautionary, wanting him to hear it from you at least once. You needed to say it to him, to get it off your chest.

A single tear trickled down your face, and the moment it did, Taeyong stepped closer, cradling your face between his hands as he pressed his forehead against yours. “I know,” he breathed out, dragging his thumb gently against your cheek and wiping the tear away. “I hate myself for doing that to you, I regret it more than anything. I’m so fucking sorry.”

Your fingers found the cloth of the shirt he wore, clutching onto it and leaning into his touch, finding solace in the gentle touch of his hands against your face as he whispered apologies to you, chipping away bit by bit at your resolve.

When the curtains falls, the lights dimmed and stage effects ceased to exist, beneath the glitz and the seemingly perfect lives of celebrities, there were humans. Humans who made mistakes and fucked up sometimes, humans who were judged for those very mistakes even though thousands of people all over the world did the very same things. Now, as Taeyong stood there and held you like he couldn’t bear to ever let you go, and barred his soul for you with every ‘I’m sorry’ that fell from his lips in utmost sincerity, he was the most human you had ever seen him.

And who were you to judge someone just like you? So painfully human and flawed, willing to make up for it?

“You hurt me and I love you anyway. Does that make me an idiot?” You had already forgiven him, speaking against the ghost of his lips, one hand coming up to clutch at his wrist to ground yourself at the moment.

“Fuck, no,” he tilted your head upwards so you were looking right into his eyes as he spoke, leaving you to believe every word he said. “You’re not the idiot, you never were. I was the idiot, baby, I fucked it all up.” That brown of his tickled your forehead and every sense of yours was oblivious to everything but the man in front of you.

“You did,” you nodded faintly, letting out the softest exhale as you blinked the tears out of your eyes, but never dropped them from his. “Guess you’ll have to make it up to me.”

Almost immediately, his lips found yours, kissing you with such reckless abandon that you almost lost your balance and would have fallen if you hadn’t been holding into his hand. One of his arms fell to your torso and looped around it, pulling you closer until it was impossible to do so anymore, securing you in place. Your eyelids fluttered shut and you let every single one of your fears and thoughts melt away like it usually did when you were around him because you knew that this, right there, was exactly where you were supposed to be.

“I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if I have to.” And he meant it with every fibre of his being, willing to do anything and everything for you.

“I believe you.”

It didn’t matter how many people made up fake news about him or never believed anything he said because you did.

“Then will you stay in my life? By my side again?” He asked you this softly, not wanting to push you into anything. “And- fuck, I can’t promise it’ll be easy, because there will be people prying into your life when they find out about us if there’s going to be an us, and unwanted attention–”

“More running from paparazzi?” You offered with the slightest twitch of your lips.

“Definitely more of that.” He chuckled, tenderly pushing some of your hair out of your face so none of it obscured his view of you, “But there’s no one else I’d rather run from them with.” His eyes searched yours for any semblance of an answer and you dipped your head a little in confirmation.

“I’d run with you for the rest of my life too, Taeyong, and I forgive you,” you choked out with a teary laugh, your previous emotions crashing down on you all at once, melting into a concoction that was completely overridden by your feelings for him. You would face the Huang Renjun’s and Kim Jungwoo’s of the world head-on, hand in hand with the man you loved, inevitably coming out triumphant.

Because you believed him. You really, truly believed him.

“Yeah?” He asked, in disbelief almost, engulfing you entirely in his embrace when you nodded again, whispering the very same word just loud enough for him to hear but soft enough to be mistaken for an echo. He pressed kisses into your hair and you knew that you had made the best decision you could have by coming here, letting yourself relax in his hold.

“For the record, I love you too,” And you didn’t think you had ever heard something so beautiful as him saying those three fated words back to you. After a beat, he continued in teasing, “Isn’t that what you journalists say? For the record?”

You laughed, wiping any stray tears, now of happiness, that had escaped your eyes in the process. “No, you idiot, it’s ‘on the record’ for things that they want to be counted, and ‘off the record’ for things that they don’t want in the report.” His attempt at using journalist lingo was endearing to you, as was the fond grin that rested upon his lips as you corrected him.

“On the record then,” Taeyong said matter-of-factly, “I love you, Y/n L/n.”

You leaned upwards, pressing your lips to his lightly, before pulling back with wide eyes. “Oh god, I have to go!”

“What?!”

“I have a flight in the morning- to New York,” You had momentarily forgotten about that minor fact, attempting to detach yourself from him, a futile gesture he promptly refuted by holding you even tighter.

“New York? Why?” His eyebrows furrowed in confusion and you preemptively smiled in pride.

“An interview for the New York Times.” You patted his arm around you. “I’m flying in early tomorrow morning, my interview is on Monday.”

He frowned, “That’s a week from now. Cancel the flight and stay with me for a bit before you leave me pining after you.”

You knew very well that you had been overthinking it when it came to booking your flight so early and felt flushed at his words. “But-”

“Stay. Please.”

And with that he had you.

“Okay,” you nodded without giving it much thought, knowing where you had to be most at that very point in time. “I’ll leave later.”

Of course, there would be tribulations, you expected no shortage of them, but you knew that as long as you had him by your side to push through the fog and uncertainty, you would be okay. You were up for all of it, from the sleepless nights tainted with the burning taste of whiskey to the mesmerising laughter-filled ones that would no doubt haunt the halls of his apartment. And perhaps now the streets of New York when you would soon step into them.

“I love you.”

Looking up at him now with a soft smile that formed as you said the words, you knew that he had once again given you another dream by giving himself. You brought your hands up to his face and cupped it, memorizing every detail of your most brilliant dream yet so you would never forget it in this lifetime, or any life after this one. As you stood there, fitting so perfectly in his arms, he felt at home at long last, finding joy in the fact that it was because of you and how it would always stay a home with you there.

“On the record.”

fin.

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technologyculturedneo · 6 months

Text

Censored: Fact Check. Lee Taeyong

"I trusted you, and you couldn't even protect me."

Pairing: mafia!Taeyong X reporter!Reader

Synopsis: Life takes a sharp turn into the wrong corner when you realise that the man you’ve been with for 3 years has lied to you about who he really is.

Genre. Angst. Mafia and gangs. Dark romance.

Warnings. Angst. Blood scenes. Killings.

News:

"Criminal activities continue to manifest in Kwangya City. With cases and reports being filled day, night and regularly by the hour, as drug exporters, mob executioners and many more corrupt the streets. Legal advisors of Kwangya inform and advice fellow citizens to keep off the streets and stay indoors. However that has proved to be impossible because we are a function city fully based on people working manual and physical jobs.” You read the script stationed on the screen before you turn to your co-host. “This is insanity. Renjun can you believe the chaos going on?"

“It’s absolutely devastating to face this period blindly and not knowing what could happen to any of us. By the hour we've been hearing that citizens are getting kidnapped, houses are being raided, people, and to think that it's happening to different types of people. We could even be victims.” Renjun shakes his head in disbelief turning his gaze off the camera to glance at at his co-worker, you, in the eye. "According to reports made by various sources, the people of Kwangya should be extremely careful or they might be victims in uncalled-for events. That's what it is, uncalled-for and dangerous acts. But what I'm curious about is that Neo City and Kwangya City are close by the border, do you think that perhaps the mob bosses, dealer kings and corroborated mafia leaders of The Neo City are behind this whole scene?"

"I'll have to say Renjun, there seems to be a link between the crimes and patterns that the officers have picked up on, and with closer examinations I can say confidently that I'm sure this is planned by the Neo City corroborated Mafia Leaders. The pattern being the letter 'N' being carved in cites that have been raided. But then again I could be wrong," You turn to the camera. "After the break we'll report live from Kwangya streets to hear what locals and shop owners have to say about the disturbance of the neighboring city. It is now 19:30 and you're watching Channel 5 news."

A man dressed in all black walks inside an electronics store purchasing a burner phone. He walks out the store and drags his cigarette watching the news report outside another television appliances store puffing out air. He fishes for his phone puffing out the air that was from the bud, using an untraceable sim he requests a call on the new purchased phone. The phone instantly connects. "Peaches," He speaks with encryption to 'peaches'.

"Octopus," Peaches answers with confirmation at the same time speaks with encryption to 'octopus'. "Do you have eyes on the girl?"

"Vague eyes on the girl," the man 'octopus' responds. "But I've got clear eyes on the location."

"Name of girl?"

"Y/n."

The receiver notes down. "Do not engage with the girl, wait for further orders."

The man cuts the call removing the sim from the phone returning it to the store swapping it for a different phone. He moves outside towards the tv store continuing to watch from the outside seeing the news channel is back. He keeps his gaze on the female speaker also known as Y/n.

A few minutes later you and your coworker announce your departure and end the news reports. His phone buzzes in his pocket causing him to immediately check it. Signalling that he should be on the move.

There's so much chaos in the city, so much involuntary movements are being done, yet on your end you commit the biggest crime by walking during late hours. It's high time you get a car, because you might not know if you're next. It's a serious situation and you of all people (who report the facts) know that the night city is not a time you should be lingering outside.

But being on guard, the moment you're dropped off by your bus, you quickly make your way home. Walking through your residential area, you get side tracked by the twinkling of the stars and how bright they look tonight. Back then looking at the stars was peaceful, but now looking at the stars while being unattentive to your surroundings only brings trouble.

You can't stop looking to them but it's until you turn a corner and walk straight on the avenue of your house, you notice that there's a person on the sidewalk leaning against a lamp post.

What's weird is that he's got his eyes on you.

You look away from him ignoring the feeling in you that you've seen him before...but you can't pin point where.

•

"The weirdest thing happened tonight babe," You rinse your mouth thoroughly before leaving your toothbrush in its case. Walking back into your joined room whereby your boyfriend, Taeyong, is casually on the bed flipping through the channels, you smile while removing your pajama pants being left in your sexy underwear while wearing his baggy shirt.

"What happened?" He sits up leaning on his elbow. "On a side note, what do you wanna do tonight?"

"I don't know," you shrug your shoulders laying down on the bed next to him. "You're the one who came suddenly and uninvited, what do you wanna do?"

He lets out a dry chuckle. "I can't come and see my girlfriend anymore without getting formal permission? Noted." He tries to get a kiss but you ignore him, laughing slightly. "I missed you, though. Couldn't control my urge tonight. After all the effort to see you and nearly getting killed by my boss, I don't even get a kiss? Ouch," He gets playfully sulky.

You grin hiding your face behind a pillow looking at him. "On second thought, I wanna kiss you. Can I do that?"

He pulls the pillow down leaning his face closer. "Do what you want with me babe. Tonight I'm all yours?"

"I just..." You smile looking at him in awe. "I missed you so much,"

"I missed you too," He returns the smile. "I couldn't wait to see you tonight. And it's not just because I think we might make out, but seriously I missed you. Lately, I've been wondering about a lot of things. And you mostly came up in my mind. We've been together for almost 3 years but I can't shake this feeling inside of me. You're my forever,"

Your lips quirk upwards holding onto his shoulders, you get closer to his face and plant a kiss on his lips. "I love you Tae,"

"I love you more then you'll ever know, babe," Taeyong grins pulling you in for another kiss. You lay there holding him as he strokes your hair while he continues kissing you. He pulls away from the kiss only slightly leaving it open and kisses along your jaw line slowly trailing down to your neck. He sucks on your collarbone eliciting a moan from your throat.

He looks up at you, eyes filled with lust and you lean back giving him better access to your neck. Your fingers thread through his hair massaging into his scalp. He pulls away from your neck and places butterfly kisses all along the column of your neck, you shudder and squirm under him as his tongue licks the underside of your ear. "I've been thinking." He says in between kisses.

"What?" Your mind fuzzy with his intoxicating lips of pleasure.

"We should get out of here. Go to another city, or country, start new," He lips merge again with yours and he leans on the bed looking at you. "What do you say?"

"You wanna leave Kwangya?"

"It's bloody murderous now days," Taeyong states. "These days people are running for their lives, and I just don't want to lose you by accident. Anything can happen, and I don't want that to happen to you. I work at Neo City, so I'm not always here to protect you, but I want us to leave. We can find another place to stay, keep a low profile, what do you say? "

You giggle lightly while wrapping your arms around his neck. "As much as I wanna leave this damn city, I can't leave my dad just yet." You mummer. "I know he's my adoptive dad and I shouldn't care, like the way you've been telling me not to care...but this man has done so much for me. He's my dad Ty, and I have to make sure he's safe."

Taeyong looks in between your eyes and sighs softly. "Then how about we move with him?"

"Move with him?" You arch your eyebrow and shake your head finding his plea a joke. You lean in close to get back into kissing him but then recognition dawns upon you. "That's who he looks like!"

You sit up straight on the bed, stretching your body towards the opposite side of your nightstand taking your phone and gliding through some pictures.

"Uhm? Kiss babe? What happened?" Taeyong pouts when you turn your head towards him. "And what are you talking about?"

"That's what I actually wanted to talk to you about," You answer him, recalling the incident that happened. Crossing your legs and holding up your phone to his view you urge him to take it. "Keeping sliding left,"

"A few weeks ago there was a man who entered the company wanting to see the boss, aka my dad. He didn't take it too well that my dad wasn't available and began causing a ruckus. Security had him pinned and began dragging him out, but he kept coming once in a while still looking for the boss. The weird thing is, I saw him again. I don't know... but he kept looking at me. Is it strange?"

Taeyong says nothing looking intensely at your phone at the picture of the man who kept bursting at the place. He grumbles lowly as a dangerous bass leaves his mouth. "Shit."

"Babe?" You tilt your head to the side seeing his serious expression. "Are you okay?"

His eyes look up intensely and furiously that your heart shivers causing you to gently lay a hand on his knee. That seems to snap him out of the raging face before he looks normal...well anxious again. "I'm sorry, what? I didn't hear you,"

"You look frightening. Do you know him or something? What's wrong? Are you okay?" You ask again rubbing hand on his knees as he also sits up crossing his legs, visibly looking annoyed.

"I don't like how close you were. Did he do anything to you?" He asks raising his brow.

"No," You shake your head. "He didn't do any anything to me on that day, but today-"

"You saw him again?" His voice gets louder.

"Yeah, I was walking home and I noticed him staring at me. Maybe it was absentmindedly but it didn't look like that,"

"They know where you live. Shit."

Taeyong hurriedly gets up from the bed going over to curtains pulling them apart, before you can even have time to digest his sudden change of behavior and attitude. You get up on your knees wanting to ask who knows where you live, yet a bizarre sight freezes you in place. The view instantly consumes you with its bright flashing lights and a loud car engine roars drastically screeching and getting closer and closer to your bedroom balcony. Your mind is slow to process- however when Taeyong leaps out of the way vigorously gripping your wrist and pulling your shocked body- you have no choice but to support yourself and regain balance to try and run already hearing the walls of your bedroom bricking down- crashing down. You scream gripping Taeyong with your other hand, but he's quick in lifting you up in one swift move placing you onto his back - you rapidly straddle him from the back holding onto his neck due to the fast pace he's running at.

"Hold on tight!" He yells before his legs swing over the wooden fence around your house. His hole body bucks when he's running and have to hold yourself severely because you feel like with all his sharp movements you could fall off. He's running so fast and sharply.

But it's not long before the angry tires screeches and demolition of your house is in progress. Peeking back there's only heavy clouds of dust all around your tarnished house and rapid angry rolling tires still trudging towards you guys.

"Babe what's happening!?" You yelp now hearing bullet sounds of gunshots shooting up from behind. Taeyong's feet move rapidly that you begin to bounce up and down at every street jump he makes. You hold him tighter closing your eyes. "I'm scared! I'm scared!"

"Fuck." You hear Taeyong curse lowly.

You look back in the dark night no longer seeing the car but running figures. Two! "They're running Taey!" You tell him but the warning is short lived when Taeyong accidentally falls down a short ledge throwing you off guard and off his shoulders

"Taey!" Your back hits the floor hard when a sharp shot hits his leg making him roll down the short cliff leading to the park down below.

"T-Taeyong!" Your bare less feet regain composer and you get off the ground running towards the edge- you're about to go down but your hair spikes as someone pulls you backwards from behind. "OW!"

Your eyes widen as you turn back to the man that just pulled your hair- it's him. It's that man!

"Please?!" You scream out loud when he presses the cold barrel of the gun on the side of your temple.

He pulls down his mask revealing a blunt smirk. "So you're the bitch that has him falling like a pussy,"

"I don't know what you're talking about. Please let me go."

"In that case, you should've let me see your boss that day." He comments. "Because now, you've just made shit difficult."

"I'm sorr-"

Strike!

The last thing you remember before your eyes lost conscious was his enormous fist colliding with your face. Maybe you're still hazy from the hit or maybe it's you're mind playing games with you, however you almost swear that you feel your body being thrown in the back of the car while hearing your name being called. Called by Taeyong.

He's screaming- yelling your name. Your head feels too heavy to lift up, but when you do the car's already driving away with a drenched Taeyong chasing after.

"Taey? Taeyong. Taeyong!" Your body snaps up banging the window and pulling the trigger of the door to open, but it's locked.

"Make her shut up Yuta."

Your wandering eyes search the dark car but just like that- another jaw breaking punch sets you falling backwards in your seat losing touch of your senses and what's happening around you.

•

"Rise and shine sweetheart. Your day has just begun."

Your ears manage to catch the muffled voices verifying them into words that you can actually understand. A sharp pain makes itself known the moment that your eyes snap open. You're laying flat on the stone cold floor feeling pain on your face. Your throat is horses as you try to make a sound. It doesn't work especially when you feel your hair pulled back forcing you to sit up as you hold onto the hand that harshly grips your hair. A loud yelp as well as tears emerge instantly reminding you of the distortion of last night.

The darkness in the room makes itself known but you try to adjust your eyes to the man infront of you. The man doesn't give you much of a chance as he yanks your hair laughing in your face. "Oh wow! Did I do that? Jaehyun look at this, I'm almost as good as you,"

Your throat is parched and you have a massive headache. You try to speak but your lip is split making it hard and you feel your jaw has intense pain. Instead you look into his eyes only seeing dots of black spots and blurry sights.

"Taeyong has taste. She's hot."

"Looks like one of his whores." the other standing figure states moving closer.

Your mind wonders to what's going on but it's hard to piece the pieces when your head throbs hard and all you can think about is nothing but the pain. He lets your hair go and like a pin dropping your whole face and front slam back to the floor weakly. "Ah,"

You let out a small cry making the other standing guy grabbing your neck forcing you up and yanking you. Your voice weakens and you hold in your cry as fear raises in you. He says nothing only glaring at you and you hiccup breathing unevenly feeling your lips quivering. He grips tighter evoking a new wave of panic. He doesn't even need to say anything, his eyes say it all. If you make another sound you won't like the outcome.

He drops you to the floor and having no balance or support, your body tramples weakly on the ground. You close your eyes forcing the tears to stay in, wishing and praying for Taeyong to save you. You don't know what has happened over the course of the previous hours. All you know is that Taeyong seemed to know before hand what was happening. What even is happening? You're proven right when a third party enters the room shortly....it's not even a room. The more you like the wider the grey space looks. It's large too, with only small square windows at the top. It's looks like only a giant can reach up there and no normal human being.

"Guys, he's here. He's really here." The new guy who enters marvels in a cocky manner. "I thought he would've taken longer."

"How could he take long? When the last thing he saw was his bitch in Jaehyun's arms." Another dark chuckle from his end. "She's a fine piece, there's no way he could take long to get back to here, so of course he'd come by in a blink of an eye."

"Where is he now?" The other guy asks.

"With the boss."

"You finally remembered us," Johnny smirks when Taeyong bursts into his office looking furious as hell. The entire night he spent running on foot to get to the Gates of Hell, also known as the headquarters of The Neo City Mafia Leaders. From where you live all the way to Neo city takes at least 3 hours while driving, but by foot it takes longer, so seeing Taeyong in his office panting and sweating, Johnny can just feel how much taking you hostage means to Taeyong.

"Where is she?" Taeyong asks fisting his fist and glaring at Johnny.

Johnny throws a picture on the table causing Taeyong to pick it up. It's a picture of himself and you, kissing. "Yuta took this picture moments before they crushed into her house. You look too relaxed don't you think?"

"But before we get to her, let's talk business." Johnny gets up from his desk and tilts his head at Taeyong. "2 missions have passed. Where did you hide off to?"

Taeyong refrains from rolling his eyes. "I was at home."

"You mean at that bitch's house."

Taeyong wants to curse Johnny for calling you however he wanted to call you, but he can't because Johnny is still his boss and the Leader of the Neo City Mafia Leaders. So he simply clutches his fist stronger and turns a deaf ear to any insults regarding you.

"You're disappearance has not been sitting well with me. Not only did you miss two missions but you've neglected your duties as vice." Johnny states. "You can imagine how pleased I was to have finally found your little bitch. I sent Yuta and Jaehyun to get her. But word tells me that you were actually at that little bitch's house, proven by that photo."

"She has nothing to do with this Johnny. She's innocent-"

"In my book she's already committed a crime. If she can make you neglect two missions, then there's something wrong with her." He smirks. "She has to pay."

"Please-"

"For hell's sake she's even making you say shit like that. 'Please?' did you really just say that?" Johnny fixes the buttons around his wrist. He picks up the remote on the table switching on the tv to a basement that's very familiar to Taeyong. It's the torture chamber. Inside the spacious grey room he sees you on the floor in the baggy shirt he came over with and your black laced underwear, on one side Yuta stands there tilting his head from side to side with his hands buried in his back pockets and near the door leaning on the wall is Jaehyun who's got his eye on you.

Johnny presses a buzzer and speaks into it. "Begin."

Taeyong's heart escalates when he finally realizes what you're doing there. You're going to be tortured. "No. Please don't." He steps closer to the screen watching Yuta smirk at the camera before picking up your shirt and using his backhand to beat the side of your face. "No! Don't, don't don't do this!"

You yell in distress by the sudden impact trying to back away but get forced forward and are beaten left to right. Taeyong with bloodshot red teary eyes watches Yuta have his way with you. "That was for missing two missions. And the next one. This is for disrespecting your oath and word towards me. Jaehyun you may,"

Jaehyun steps forward after Johnny's command and Taeyong has his eyes widen when Jaehyun wastes no time in slamming a hard right hook on your face. You fall back and crawl backwards yelling covering up your face but it's no use as Jaehyun follows you and continues to deliver rough hits to your face. Taeyong grips his hair turning sharply to Johnny pointing towards the screen. "Stop this! She doesn't deserve- she's innocent. It's me you want! I'm here!" Taeyong yells trying to drown out your ear piercing wails that get louder and louder. The thought of your fragile body, your soft skin being beaten up makes his stomach wrench with anger. It's worse since he knows that Jaehyun will only stop if Johnny tells him to. "I'm begging you, please stop this."

Yuta from the side knows very well that Jaehyun plays no games when it came to hitting and teaching someone a lesson. So he's not surprised that after 5 minuets of continuously punching and hitting hard on the girl, Taeyong's girl, your wails become low and your face gets bloodier concealing your beauty. Jaehyun grabs a hold of your hair pulling you up and he looks at your bloodied face with your eyes closing out of conscious. You await the heavy knockout already closing your eyes tight being tired of fighting. Feeling nothing but cold air blowing past you, your eyes weakly open noticing that Jaehyun's fist is centimeters away from your face.

Your eyes having difficulty moving - straining when you try to look at Yuta who's talking but you can't hear a thing. You're dropped on the floor and your eyes instantly shut- too painful to cry, too painful to move you lay on the ground breathing and choking on your own dry blood. With your ears being impaired you only hear ringing and even if you did want to hear something, you couldn't bring your energy or hear all to listen to what the two men that beat you up had to say. The only thing you can think about is the pain.

"She's fucking innocent Johnny! Have you no heart, that's my- my-" Taeyong feels his eyes aching and stinging by the sight of the monitor screen with Jaehyun and Yuta who wipe the blood off their hands and throw it at your face. On his knees his heart quenches seeing your figure shaking but unmoving. Jaehyun would need to pay for what he did to you. "You're a devil, have you no mercy?"

Johnny laughs like the cold heartless monster he is and Taeyong takes his eyes off of your image. Johnny raises a brow seeing the look on his face. "The devil I am indeed and you're supposed to be my spawn. My deadliest spawn, but look at you. You're on your knees, begging and shedding tears. If you value her that much, maybe I should just take her away."

Taeyong slams his fist on the table glaring his eyes at Johnny. "What do you want?"

"You know what I want Taeyong," Johnny smirks. "I'm glad I found the thing that's been hindering you. I don't want to threaten you because you know all that's at stake, all I'll say is that I've picked you up from nothing. You owe your life to me. You've had nothing and if it takes me removing her from the picture for you to focus, you know I'll remove her. So the ball is in your court. Anytime you divert, mislead or even stray away the mission one bit, I won't hesitate to kill her. And you know I will."

Taeyong breathes in heavily straightening his back and closing his eyes. He simply travelled to Kwangya to spend time with you and to escape from his reality for a while. He didn't intend for you to be taken, to be kidnapped all the way to Neo City where crime was at it's peak. So frustrated he pinches his teeth together trying not to get enraged. He didn't even sleep, he didn't even bath as his main priority was getting you back safe. Now that he's here, he knows it'll be a long time until you're going to be safe. "Why Jaehyun and Yuta?"

"You know why I picked Jaehyun." Johnny smirks as if the answer is clear. "I'm proud to have raised you and Jaehyun in my own house. You guys are my two deadliest pawns. With Jaehyun in place you'll do whatever I say for the sake of that girlfriend of yours. While I can count on Jaehyun to give her one blow once in a while, you can count on Yuta to feed her, keep her well." Johnny laughs to himself. "We both know that he won't take good care of her, so bring me what I want and I let her go. Come to think of it, does she even know who you are?"

"What do you want?" Taeyong fumes out still with eyes closed.

"Kwangya at my feet." Johnny moves back to his seat finishing business and closing the deal. "Qian Kun's head. As well as his son Chenle, but he should be alive, he's got information worth fortune. You may leave."

Taeyong drags his hand off the table burning with fire in him.

"Oh and Taeyong." Taeyong stops, refusing to turn back and make eye contact with his boss. "You know what will happen if you try and check on her? One move towards her cell and it'll probably be the last time you see her breathing."

With that Taeyong leaves the room panting and breathing heavily trying not to lose control. Inside the large mansion, criminals rest and roam around so when they see their leader Taeyong walking towards his room with hast and anger they know it's time to bring out their stern faces and full game. Taeyong bangs his door immediately going to shower removing his clothes punching the wall as hard as he can with his fist. "Ahhh! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!"

He needs to get her out. He needs to get you out of here. You can't stay here. Not in this house, not in this mansion full of dangerous guys. Especially not in that room with the dangerous of them all after himself. And to think, that he's the most dangerous but yet so soft around you. He needs to get you out.

And in order to do that, he'll need to work as fast as he can. Turning on the shower he tries to focus on his target, but getting the bloodied image of her face out of his head is a challenge. He should've never came to visit her. Now he's gotten her in trouble that she doesn't deserve. "Hold on baby." He whispers as the water pours on him. "Hold on."

"We get in and get out." Taeyong speaks to the sets of groups listening to him. "Take out as many bodyguards as you can and then leave Kun's door unattended. It's take over day today, they'll know we're coming. So take out the lights, cut out the power, kill anyone who stands in your way, but leave Kun to me. Under no circumstances are you allowed to kill him- that's my job. Got it. Let's move."

•

"We're gonna ask you some questions." Yuta announces entering the basement room with Jaehyun following behind him.

It's been hours and you still haven't moved from your last position. Lifeless on the floor while fading in and out of conscious. Your throat and lips are dry while your eyes are both swollen. Not having cleaned up, crusts of your dried blood remain on parts of your face. You blink a tear away when spotting vague figures standing in front of you. Slowly, your head shifts to the side and you strain your eyes open using the little weight you have to back away. Not having heard what either of them say, you try with all your might to get away but you stop- only having moved an inch due to all the body shock and fatigue, as well as how heavy you feel dragging your body.

"Please..." Dryly you let out weakly putting your hand to cover your face.

"Damn." Yuta laughs. "She's actually holding up better. Not like Ryu and the other girls."

"Ryu died on spot after the third day, why compare her?"

Yuta scoffs as if the answer is obvious. "Because she's not dead yet. Meaning she can give us the answers we need. Alright, girly can you hear us?"

Yuta snaps his fingers near your ear and you slightly flinch, but you can't hear a thing he's saying. You mummer and try backing up begging with your dry cracked lips. "Please..."

"We wanna know about Taeyong." Yuta states his subject. "You give us much information, you eat. You give us little, you don't eat. Deal?"

Your ears feel like they're stuffed with cotton as you can hear his muffled words but you can't decipher what they mean. You can only cower and tremble while moving back- hoping and praying that they won't hurt you again. To your slight movement and response, Yuta thinks you're agreeing with. So you can just imagine your shock, when he speaks some more and you don't respond only seeing through your blurry eyes how his arm lifts up and the next thing you experience is a tremendous blow knocking your head in the opposite direction as you blurt out a cry-before quickly shutting your mouth holding in your voice- afraid you'll get beaten again.

You can only moan in pain as you let out tiny muffled out cries. You're scared for your dear life, and it doesn't help how your whole body is aching in pain, you feel that they are broken ribs here and there, and that your jaw is dislocated and that your ears are deaf just as your vision is foggy- but you can't even do anything with your trembling body but let out cries of sorrow.

Their muffled speeches continue again- but you can't be bothered to try and guess what they're saying because you feel another rock hard kick against your abdomen.

Jaehyun grabs Yuta's collar back while watching as blood splits out of your mouth as you cry and beg earnestly, imploring a single bloodshot word: "Please..."

"She can't hear you." Jaehyun notes, while directing his eyes to your ear which is bloody and red and oozing out lines of blood. "Which renders her useless. Just like Ryu."

Yuta growls in annoyance when noting the blood from your ears.

"Give her food."

Yuta pushes Jaehyun's hand away from you. "No. We made a deal. The less she gives, no food." Yuta walks away from Jaehyun, who only looks at your unlucky figure.

He kneels down close to you, spreading his finger through your hair. You're whimpering and breathing in heaps of fear. Jaehyun looks through your swollen bruised and broken face- cracked lips, bruised cheekbones, eyes bloodshot from weeping, nose busted and bleeding again, the skin around them a sickly pale pink, and yet you look so much more beautiful to him. His fingers pass through your soft hair going all the way down to the curves of your body landing on the fabric of your laced underwear.

"Just between us. If your boyfriend gets Kun's head, I'll get you some pants." Jaehyun mutters knowing you can't hear and taps your cheeks- it still causes you to throb in pain and you're whining like a broken puppy. "It's cold here. Good night."

When they leave the room, you're panting simmers down as your vision blurs out until you're passed out.

Your left ear drum is bursted and you fear that you won't be able to see again from your left eye. Although the pain subsides from your body, your stomach tightens in hunger. With each passing second whenever the two figures enter the room, you're scared that they might beat you up just like the previous time. However, it seems like ever that day (that they acted out of rage and beat you up) was just a command from someone higher then them, because they don't touch you again.

They place a bowl next to your head, but you're too weak to move your head or see what's inside. You can smell through your broken nose that it is a meal and it's hot. They splatter water on you from time to time but they don't feed you or make you move a little.

You don't count the time one of them entered the room and began making you wear some pants and left you with some kind of jacket that draped over you like a blanket. You don't count it because you don't remember it ever happening, you just woke up and you had pants on and a jacket blanket over you.

At some point when your bladder was full, you held yourself and kept yourself pressed. And for the time you really needed to let go, you crawled with all your strength but it was slow, and when you got to the corner of the large room, you peed on the concrete floor before you crawled and dragged yourself back to your bowl.

You don't know how many days passed, how many nights passed. You don't keep count, you don't move. All you do is stay in the same place hoping that this nightmare will end and that you'll wake up in your bed with Taeyong comforting you.

But unfortunately you don't ever go back to your normal life. And so as a way to adjust, you crawl to the food and try to eat...suck the food before getting dizzy and accepting that you can only eat a little.

Only 3 days have passed with both Yuta and Jaehyun in astonishment of how far you've made it without a bath or using the rest room- you barely even finished a full bowl of water or the food they placed next to you.

While Yuta nags and complains about how he doesn't like being a babysitter, Jaehyun finds himself loitering around the basement checking if you're okay. He splats water on your face from time to time, making sure you're alive. He also takes care of your face and body when you pass out or sleep. He wiped the blood from your face, ears and body, he placed a hot cloth on your face, massaged your scalp and made sure to keep you alive.

Of course now you know that it's been Jaehyun who has been cleaning up your swollen areas and wounds merely because, you noticed that your eyes weren't stinging so much and when you tried opening them you'd feel that it was actually opening up.

Despite his nature, he willingly made sure to keep you well and alive. And much to Yuta's surprise when Jaehyun picks you up from the floor and thrusts you over his shoulder walking out with you, Yuta has so many questions.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"Get Jaemin." Is all Jaehyun says as he walks out of the basement room.

"You know you're fucked if Johnny sees-"

"He's not here. He's torturing Chenle in the chamber." Jaehyun mutters going up the stairs of the mansion before entering the lower area bathrooms which had 10 stalls for showers. Showers that were on an open floor with no barriers in between. Jaehyun sets you down by the sink as you try to balance yourself.

Although you're weak and your vison is hazy, you make out a man covered in foam and is butt naked seemingly taking a shower in the large space for showering. He's minding his own business and thoroughly washing himself.

Jaehyun's eyes go over your figure before turning back to the man in the shower. "Ten get out."

"Yah." Ten, unbothered, continues to shower. "I'm not bothering anyone today. Strip yourself and bath, stop pestering me to get out."

"Remove your clothes." Jaehyun says nonchalantly removing his leather jacket and placing it on the sink as his gaze is on you. The other guy abruptly turns off his side of the shower and snaps his head back. Upon noticing the female presence Ten covers his manhood.

"No way," Ten laughs. "Is that Yong's chick? Fuck she's a beau,"

You're surprised when Jaehyun holds you by your shoulders and then points to his lips which began moving. Over the past days, your hearing hasn't gotten any better, however you can say that you can hear...but it's low and muffled. So using your hazy eyes to try and see the way his lips move, you make out the words: "Bath" and "Clean."

"Now remove your clothes." Jaehyun continues speaking in a slow paced manner to try and get you to understand. "I'll get you something else to wear."

With that Jaehyun gets out of the bathroom. You're left alone in the bathroom with another naked man, who gives you one last smirk before turning around and continuing to shower. Heeding to what Jaehyun said, you try to remain nonchalant as you begin to remove your hoody as well as pants. You remove your underwear and bra and limp your way, as well as holding onto the wall for support to the furthest shower away from the naked man.

You try not to mind him, as he seemingly minds his own business when showering, however when you step your foot into the wet surface and try to hold up your weak body- you nearly fall causing the wet naked man to carefully leap in your direction. He holds onto your own naked body on the floor and helps you up.

While you cover your exposed areas trying to shield yourself from his view- you feel self conscious when his eyes go all over your face. "Jaehyun really left his mark on your face." He mumbles. "Do you need help washing up? I'm good with that."

You don't recall nodding, but when Ten gets a scrub and some soap, he begins creating foam around your body and he starts scrubbing you. You can only shamefully look down while holding onto the wall for some balance. The guy turns on the water and as the water cleans the foam from your body, you can see the blood mixing together with the foam water. Watching the water mixture, an emotion rises in you and you feel overwhelmed once the tears start blurring your vision.

You don't make it obvious that you're crying, in fact you try to allow the water drops take away the tears. Taeyong lied to you. He lied about his whole life and now you're here. You don't know what to think or feel. The person you fell head-over-heels for seems to be part of the mafia.

Ten stands in front of you when he's done washing your backside and rare. You can feel the warmth of his body and how his manhood keeps dangling and swinging with every move he makes. It lights taps onto your stomach each and every time he washes underneath your neck. He goes from your neck, down to your shoulders and then boobs. You're actually pleased that he's not taking advantage of you and instead washing you thoroughly. He washes underneath your boobs with care, on your armpits- and he even cleans your belly button inside....which is something you found weird. But when he gets to your stomach he takes extra care.

Ten feels bad when seeing the bruises in shades of red, pink and purple as well as black all over your stomach. Damn. Instead of using the scrub, he takes on a cloth and rubs gently over it. You feel a sharp pain from your stomach and instantly your hand goes over your stomach- which automatically gets onto of Ten as he stops while looking at you.

"Do you need me to wash down there or are you good with that?" He carefully asks. "Let me do it, so that you don't hurt yourself?"

You don't know what he's saying, and the tears that built up pour out again as you hiccup and look down.

Ten doesn't know why you're crying, but he takes it as a sign to continue. He thinks you might be crying from the pain. Your breathing is rigid and he tries not to make it hurt, but there's no other way. You're entire stomach looks badly injured. Sometimes Ten forgot what Jaehyun was capable off, but seeing it with his own eyes always made him avoid the older guy.

Ten gets to your pelvis and lower half, and just like he did with your buttock, he takes the scrub and briefly washes over it. He didn't want to make you uncomfortable.

He goes onto your legs and cleans under both your feet as they looked in dire shape. "Jaehyun really-"

"Really what?"

Ten is struck when immediately turning his head to the corner and seeing Jaehyun with a bag. Ten goes back to washing you keeping himself tranquil. "You really fucked her up."

"Johnny said so."

Ten rolls his eyes. Of course Johnny said so. Although everyone feared Johnny as there boss and tried to be as obedient as possible, no one could do it better then Jaehyun and Taeyong. Those two idiolized Johnny to one hell of another degree.

As Ten ponders on this, he finds it weird how actually Jaehyun allowed you to take a bath... "Did Johnny also say she can take a bath?"

Expecting an answer back, Ten is disappointed when Jaehyun simply folds his arms and ignores him. Sometimes he really tried to befriend the other unit team mates, but they were another breed.

Upon finishing, Ten gets up and mumbles in your ear. "Sorry okay babe. I'd never hit a woman. But be strong for your Yong. He's going through hell tryna meet Johnny's high demands."

You make out some words but the rest of the sentence is muffled and you can only look at his lips. Your eyes is hazy and when Ten looks between them both, he feels bad.

Although he was in the gang mafia group, his main post was with the surveillance and equipment team dealing in hacking. He was never in the front line. Most of the times when he saw what the members of the front line would do, he wonder how he got himself stuck in such a work field.

Jaehyun takes over as he moves closer to you and hands you the towel and the points to the bag. "Get dry and change."

With that he leaves the bathroom. Ten once again takes heed in helping you out. After helping you dry yourself, he searches through the bag and sees a boxer. Helping you put it on, he adjusts the size by pulling onto the strings and then he goes onto a long sleeved shirt...which on you it looks baggy. Seeing the logo and the size and color, Ten figures out that you're not wearing anything of your style but instead this is from Jaehyun's wardrobe. He then puts on the black sweat pants and pulling the strings to adjust it to your waist before finally finding some socks. They're also big, but socks always fit and so they fit you fine.

Ten takes it a step further and pulls all your hair to the back deciding to braid it. It's a skill he learnt when he was growing up with his family and had to do his sisters hair. So doing your hair kinda reminds him of his sister. His heart pings when looking at you. You didn't ask for this.

Once you're done, Ten helps you walk to the shower door. He opens it up and you limp out. Jaehyun is leaning against the wall looking at the floor.

Seeing your limping figure and seeing you all dressed up in his clothes, he squats down and picks you up again tossing you over his shoulder and begins taking down the stairs again.

You feel much better after bathing, but still your body aches with the way Jaehyun holds your stomach against his shoulder. Upon getting away from the light house, your eyes make note of the darkness leading to the basement where you once where.

Upon Jaehyun getting back he spots Yuta and Jaemin. "Jaemin check on her. Give her medicine or put alcohol over her wounds, whatever she needs to get well."

"Well?" Yuta scrunches his eyebrows. "Are you crazy?"

"No I'm not." Jaehyun mumbles before moving bac to his seat on the corner and leaving the two looking down at you. Jaehyun put you back on the floor and now you're seated up right.

Taeyong slumps on his bed after a long day and night. He picks up his phone from the night stand and checks the time. 02h00 am. Looking at the wallpaper of you leaning close to his chest, his heart tightens. How many more tasks would he have to do to get back to you? He's been working extremely hard for Johnny, but yet Johnny still had his hands on you.

This evening was almost a breaking point for Taeyong, he was tasked to torture Chenle in the most vile ways to get information out of him on how to get his dad, Kun. But even though it was something he had to do, he didn't want to do it. Inside of him, seeing Chenle strapped up to a chair and looking fearful...only reminded him of you. Chenle was hot headed and refused to give up any information...that's until Taeyong was no longer lenient and actually began the torture. After stuffing a gag ball in Chenle's mouth, Taeyong felt the most heavy when striking his first blow across Chenle's face.

The first punch alone left Chenle with a bleeding eyebrow and forming bump. When Chenle looking horrendously scared turning back to Taeyong- he wasn't prepared for the way that Taeyong would unleash all his anger. Another hard strike against Chenle's face, almost punctured out Chenle's left eye and by now he was feeling scared. He couldn't even talk because of the gag ball- but that didn't stop Taeyong from swinging his fists and treating Chenle like a punching bag.

The strikes weren't only limited to his face, but to his abdomen as well. And when things got tough because Chenle still didn't want to realease information, Taeyong picked up a hammer. And with Chenle's hands being strapped as well Taeyong beat the hammer excruciatingly hard and stubbed Chenle of his pinky finger.

From screaming and yelling without being heard (due to the gag ball) and Chenle's whole face turning red with veins popping all over his forehead from how Taeyong beat him up and broke on his fingers one by one- Just made Taeyong feel regretful. He normally wouldn't feel remorse when doing his job. But yet, beating Chenle up only brought his mind to you. Who knows, maybe somewhere in the basement the same abuse was happening to you.

Taeyong sighs and shuts his screen off. He feels so bad for coming to visit you. If he hadn't visited you, then you wouldn't have been caught and this wouldn't have happened.

Meanwhile Johnny walks into his office with blood being covered on most of his suit as well as face. Taeyong was weak. Is what Johnny notes. While Johnny sat on the corner of the room and watched as Taeyong beat Chenle up this afternoon- it came to Johnny's awareness as how Taeyong was fighting Chenle. Although physically strong and he did a number on Chenle with a broken jaw, swollen eyes and busted nose, Johnny could still see right through Taeyong that his mind was elsewhere.

It's why after long dreadful hours he sent Taeyong to go and sleep- so that he himself could finish Chenle off.

And once Johnny started, he started by his typical standard way of chopping off one of Chenle's toes. Even though Chenle was ready to speak a long time ago while Taeyong was beating him up, Johnny wanted to make sure that Chenle wouldn't lie. So after cutting 3 out of 10 toes and breaking Chenle's arms- he confirmed what he wanted to know.

Switching on his tv, he watches you sleeping on the ground while Jaehyun sits on the corner of your room. After telling Jaehyun to look after you and make sure you're okay, he knows he did a good job. Because you don't look as shabby as you did before. You look proper and even clean. Leaning back on his seat, he lights up a cigarette looking out his high view window.

Taeyong was always his prized possession, and Johnny wanted to keep it that way forever.

So after getting the report back of your condition, Johnny decides to give you a few more days or even weeks of rest before he can allow Taeyong to see you.

And so it happens, as the days pass by and your condition slightly gets better with the help of Jaemin constantly checking up on you, Johnny makes sure to try and toughen Taeyong up- by getting him involved in other gang mafia activities that still needed to be done.

By the start of the third week, when Taeyong feels his heart becoming numb every second, when morning comes he makes his way to Johnny's office by routine, as if being summoned for the next mission. However for this week Taeyong is surprised with what Johnny tells him. "Your next mission is in the basement."

Feeling fearful of what Johnny has up his sleeves, Taeyong composes his emotions. It' been 2 weeks since he last saw you, and the last time he did see you, you were beaten up to a pulp and that was the only image he could remember.

But now following Johnny to the basement, Taeyong wonders what state he'll see you in.

And just to his dismay you're strapped on the chair. Although your attire has changed, the patches on your face reveal the type of pain you've been through. "Babe.." He can only whisper when he sees Yuta scouting around you.

"Tae-" Your eyes get watery and you begin whimpering while crying lightly. "Tae..." Is the only thing you can croak out while trying not to break down.

Taeyong's heart heaves in his chest when hearing and seeing how broken and scared you look. He swallows a lump down his throat, hoping that Johnny won't do anything that's maniac.

"You know that day, I figured something out." Johnny states while walking near to you. His hand touches your shoulder and jolt a little. "While you were beating Chenle up."

Johnny smirks when watching Taeyong's eyes snap up to his, just as he feels your shoulder stiffen. From what Jaehyun said, you were able to hear from your right ear while your left ear seemed damaged. Either way, you could hear him. And hearing that Taeyong beat Chenle, makes you peer into Taeyong's eyes. Surely, it wasn't the Chenle she knew. Surely it wasn't her brother.

"I saw the way he looked at you. And I saw the way you were hitting him." Johnny remarks. "It's true that you gave your all in beating him up. However it's fair to say, you didn't give your all because he was still alive."

Johnny mentions when letting go of your shoulders and he moves to Yuta.

"I made Jaehyun look after her while Yuta did a background check on her and while you were out there hunting for Quin Kun's head." Johnny chuckles. "And it got me thinking how it's exactly the same reason you run away. Whenever I put you on the mission to look for Kun's head, you come back with no results. I began wondering, why only for Kun's head do you struggle? You never struggled to get Doyoung's head. You never struggled to get even Jungwoo's head- and he was the fucking prime minister. You even got Jisung's head, and he was just a kid. I've trained you to be merciless all your life, and you've brought back great results. However when it comes to Kun, you struggle a lot. And I wondered why."

"Tae..." You whimper breathlessly.

Taeyong can't bring his eyes to you, as he can feel the tears already leaving your eyes. Johnny liking the reaction of Taeyong looking down to the ground while you cry, gets him to walk in front of you.

Johnny crouches down in front of you and taps your cheek. "I did a background check on you, and it seems you were adopted from a young age. To a wealthy Chinese family." Johnny smirks and gets back up looking to Taeyong. "I sent you, three years ago on the mission to kill Kun. And I remember how you came back empty handed saying you couldn't track Kun and that it wasn't him."

Taeyong inhales deeply getting his eyes to glare holes into Johnny's smug eyes.

"I dropped it and searched for another target. I mean, if we were gonna take over the Chinese business market we'd need to get rid of the most successful Chinese business man, which is Kun. And if Kun was undefeatable by my best pupil, by you Taeyong- then it meant we weren't strong enough. I put down Kun thinking that we needed to be stronger. And so I trained you and groomed you to be harder and stronger so that the next time we'd meet him, he'd be of no match. But no, I was wrong again. I sent you for the second time, you came back empty. I sent you for the third time, you came back empty. And what makes me laugh is that all your excuses made me think that Kun is some motherfucking top gang mafia in China. It was always the Kun mission that you kept failing. So when I got word that Kun moved to Kwangya City, I thought this was it. We can nail him when he's not on his home turf. I sent you again. And for the fifth time, you came back empty. That's when I knew something wasn't right."

You can't believe what your ear is hearing. Your eyes are watering and you're whimpering inside with your trembling lips. Taeyong lied to you.

"So when I caught your little bitch, I thought she was the reason why you've been slacking off." Johnny continues. "We brought her in, beat her up, in the hopes that you'd do your job. You managed to do your other activities and killing jobs successfully- but still, when it came to Kun, you couldn't kill him and I wondered why. Why my best elite man, couldn't kill some old Chinese guy. And why he also couldn't kill his son. I killed Chenle by myself since you couldn't do it. And after killing him, it dawned on me, perhaps I should send someone else to get the Kun job done."

That makes Taeyong's heart beat just as his eyes enlarge. "You didn't."

Johnny smirks. "I love pairing you and Jaehyun together on missions because I get twice the deadly combo I was looking for. Of course when you're separated you bring back results that make me proud of you two. But I thought to myself, if Taeyong can't get the job done, then maybe he's other half can."

"No..." You can't even hold yourself from wailing when just in time, Jaehyun walks in with one hand dragging a lanky body without a head, and on Jaehyun's other hand, he holds onto a clamped ball of black hair that's mixed with blood. A head that's dripping blood from it's cut neck. You instantly recognize the head and body. You recognized the body in the white suit instantly because the suit was a present you bought for your dad- and when seeing the head on Jaehyun's other hand your heart breaks when a grueling cry erupts from your lips. "DADDY!"

Hearing you cry rattles and destroys Taeyong in many devastating ways, but seeing Kun too dead and spilt from his body completely ruins and tears Taeyong down. He acts on impulse when his body lunges for Jaehyun and he balls a fist knocking Jaehyun straight to the ground dropping the bodies.

Jaehyun’s blood stains Taeyong’s knuckles dark red as Taeyong but doesn't stop there and keeps punching with extreme rage. Your cries are all that Taeyong can hear and he doesn't give Jaehyun a chance or even time to collect himself. Between him and Jaehyun- Taeyong was always the strongest and he made show to demonstrate his strength upon Jaehyun when using his fists to destroy.

Johnny watches nonchalantly while Yuta runs to Taeyong and joins to on the fight. Giving Jaehyun enough time to collect himself while Yuta distracts Taeyong- Jaehyun unleashes his anger over Taeyong. He tosses Taeyong from his waist all the way down to the concrete floors before getting ontop of him and starts pounding into Taeyong’s face over and over again. Taeyong tries to block out your cries but it's impossible as he sees you bleeding on the floor. He stops fighting completely, allowing Jaehyun to beat you up.

It's only because he sees Johnny kick your chair to the ground and press his foot over your head squeezing you by pressing you done. "If you're done I'd like to carry on my monologue." Johnny boredly speaks.

Jaehyun fuming in rage helps Yuta up as they both get away from a puffed and bruised up Taeyong.

Your eyes are sad just as your face turns red from all the pain that Johnny emits onto you by crashing your head. Taeyong tries to see from his one good eye but it's equally just as bad. Johnny speaks. "I was thinking what could be your punishment. And seeing that hurting her makes you weak, I thought of something better. And what can be better then cutting you loose? I've decided to let you go. Of course you can always come back if you want and find that out there isn't good for you without her, but regardless I'm letting you go. Take any car you want, heck I'm even giving you permission to take my cars if you'd like. And you can even have your girlfriend back. I'm not gonna chase her, you can have her back. There's no catch. Just a clock ticking. One hour I want you out and gone."

Johnny puts his hand in his pocket and tosses it in the air to Yuta. "Get him any car he wants. Jaehyun I want you to place the bodies of Kun and Chenle in which ever car he picks, let them bury the family, it' only fair. And Taeyong, get cleaned up from Jaemin, you can take your pathetic crying girlfriend as well." Johnny removes his foot against the side of her face and struts out of the basement before moving back. "Oh, and you can take her to her fathers house, her house is destroyed. In his will her father was sweet enought to leave everything in her name."

Just as Yuta and Jaehyun follow after their boss, Taeyong struggles to get up before limping over to you. You're crying and sobbing profusely and you look so small curled on the floor. Your legs are bloody and your clothes are tattered, your hair is messy and tangled and covered in dust from the ceiling. You don't seem to notice Taeyong and he's afraid to approach you but he knows that he has to get you somewhere safe. Even if he's weak, he forces himself to carry you bridal style as he limps out of the basement to Jaemin.

Jaemin doesn't ask questions and patches your bleeding head and puts a number of bandages around Taeyong.

"How long did they give you?" Jaemin mumbles.

"An hour."

"Will you be okay?"

Taeyong doesn't even know what to say or respond when looking at you as you're curled up again with your eyes closed as you silently cry. Taeyong whispers back. "My punishment is watching her suffer while being around her. He knows I'm helpless because of what I've done. I'm just hoping she'll forgive me.

And so when Taeyong picks out a car, and Jaehyun is done depositing the bodies of your family in the boot Taeyong begins driving. The car is silent with the both of you staring ahead in deep thought. Taeyong doesn't know what to say to break the ice and you don't even want to speak to him. It's only when he pulls up your father's mansion do you begins to sob out. It hurts Taeyong, and he when cautiously puts his hand on you - you slap it away and get out the car. Your cry worsens when you open the boot and see the bloody plastic in which your brother and father are. You try to bring them out of the boot by yourself- but when you see Taeyong helping you bring the plastic out your tears halt.

"I'm sorry babe-"

"Don't you ever call me babe." You snap your head around. You're both beaten and look busted- but it's you that's more heartbroken. Taeyong feels like throwing up and his eyes water when your own eyes don't stop imploring. "You hurt me, Taeyong. And I hate you. I hate you! For doing this. For forcing me to watch this every day!" You scream at him and throw his car keys at him. Taeyong catches them with trembling hands and looks around for you. "I won't forgive you. You're the reason why my father is gone. Why my family is dead! Why Chenle is dead. If it weren't for you, then none of this would have happened." You stumble back being too weak to keep your eyes open as you wail out. "You knew this would happen but still-"

Taeyong's eyes are watery when he holds onto your arms. "Babe I'm sorry- I really am- I…"

"Don't touch me Taeyong." Your voice is barely above a whisper as you try to get away from him not having the strength to look at him. But Taeyong still comes close as he tries to explain to you. "You couldn't even protect me, you allowed them to kill my family- and you get close to me by lying- you just wanted to kill my father- I hate you! Get away from me-" you implore pushing him back by his shoulders roughly.

"At first it was just orders," Taeyong can hear his own heart breaking when you keep refusing his touch and you don't want to look at him. "But three years ago I fell in love with you, and didn't wanna do it anymore. I love-"

"I hate you-"

"Everything changed when I realized just how much you mean to me. I fell in love with your world, the peace, your serenity, I fell…baby I fell in love with you-" Taeyong tries to get close again while looking into your eyes even though you shake your head and try to get away from him. "Babe I fell for you-"

"I trusted you-"

"Trust me now baby please-"

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" You break. You can't help but look at him in disgust, sadness and anger all at once. You can't believe that this was once your whole world, you used to look at him with such love because your whole heart wanted him. But now, his whole features disgust you. "Don't you ever, ever come near me again. Get out of my life Taeyong and go back to that hell."

"Babe please-"

"GET OUT! GET OUT OF MY LIFE! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU SO MUCH!" Your wailing and screeching hit Taeyong where it hurts. He backs off and looks at you with sadness, hurt and despair. "I can't stand you anymore. Get out of here. Please."

He nods his head, walks away from the car, tears streaming down his face and leaving you in front the plastic bag of the dead bodies of your father and brother. From the rearview mirror Taeyong watches you kneel down on the ground as you slowly reach into the body bag and grab one of the two heads and put it on your knee while wiping away the blood. Taeyong hits the wheel in anger- but it's in his anger when he realizes Johnny's plan.

Johnny said: "Of course you can always come back if you want and find that out there isn't good for you without her," Back then Taeyong didn't understand- but after his car is several of yards away his eyes widen. They're gonna kill you. Even though Johnny said there's no catch, he knew better then to believe it when Jaehyun wasn't anywhere near when you left. He stops the car and abruptly gets out running back to you.

And just as he gets in sight of the mansion which once belonged to Kun, he sees you struggling and wrestling with Jaehyun who looks like he came out from the plastic bag. In a quick movement, Jaehyun brings out a gun-

"NO!" Taeyong shouts.

It's in moments like these when he realizes that a gangster love isn't so sweet. He loved you for so long and thought that you'd be able to make it far with him. But he failed to protect you or your family, and even though knowing that loving you would kill him, he still drew closer to you. And now he regrets his decisions. When Jaehyun pulls the trigger and a loud blasting sound is heard, and your head sprouts out blood- Taeyong feels his whole heart shatter and splitting into two

News:

"Another night in hell city as criminal activities continue to manifest. With cases and reports being filled day, night and regularly by the hour, as drug exporters, mob executioners and many more corrupt the streets. Legal advisors of Kwangya inform and advice fellow citizens to keep off the streets and stay indoors.” Renjun reads the script stationed on the screen before looking down and reading the next point. "Unfortunately, our very own representative Kun, and former anchor woman Y/n, were killed and found last night in the dumps."

Renjun can't even begin to express his troubled heart. Two weeks ago they heard you were kidnapped, and then just last week someone reported seeing you, and just before a search party could be sent out, they heard the devastating news.

Renjun shakes his head in disbelief turning his gaze off the camera to glance at at his sheet of papers. He had to be professional and couldn't even shed a tear on camera. So he huffs up and continues.

"According to reports made by various sources, the people of Kwangya should be extremely careful or they might be victims in uncalled-for events. That's what it is, uncalled-for and dangerous acts. Following Y/n's suspicion, police have a led on who they think the killer, or mafia member might be. He goes by the name of Lee Taeyong. And his activities line up to the crimes being investigated. After the break we'll report live from Kwangya streets to hear what locals and shop owners have to say about the disturbance of the neighboring city. It is now 19:30 and you're watching Channel 5 news."

Taeyong stands outside of the tv station new building and sees all the flowers as well as candles lit up for everyone favorite anchor woman. He bends down and his lips tremble. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't protect you. But I will avenge you, and your father, and brother."

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herslvt · 11 months

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Soft Thoughts with NCT but it's just my bias line

Like always from a black female writer-

Includes: Johnny, Yuta, Taeyong, Haechan, Chenle, Xiaojun, Ten and Shotaro (fyi sm better stop playing with me tf you mean sungtaro aren't in NCT anymore...)

Bf! Johnny who is twice your size and has to point it out any chance he gets. You could be standing there minding your business and here he comes to tower over you. He has no reason to do so besides the simple fact he likes invading your space and enjoys you looking up at him.

Best friend! Yuta who really is more like your boyfriend because of how he acts. You guys go on dates constantly and neither of you have been in a long lasting relationship because of that. You guys put 10x more effort into each other than into your significant others leaving you both single time and time again.

Bf! Taeyong who has written more songs about you than he has for NCT, he doesn’t do it on purpose but whenever he is writing a song he has no choice but to think about you. A love song? It’s about you. Highway to heaven? Definitely about you.

Bf! Haechan who likes to lay on you while playing games on his phone. He’ll rest his head on your stomach, your chest, the crook of your neck, your thighs; doesn’t matter as long as he’s comfortable and can play whatever game he’s playing.

Bf! Chenle who got you both matching jerseys and drags you along to every basketball game because he knows you enjoy it no matter how hard you protest. Who wouldn’t enjoy sitting court-side at march madness or at the nba play offs!? He gets to watch the game and have his pretty little girlfriend sitting beside him.

Best friend! Xiaojun who confessed his feelings to you on a random day in October because he knows you like cheesy things like walks in the park and coffee dates. The feeling of fall engulfing your senses as he holds your left hand, coffee in your right. You weren’t expecting him to just burst out with ‘Will you be my girlfriend’ but you definitely said yes.

Bf! Ten who literally makes every day feel like your birthday. (I know I said soft thoughts but gah damn) Everyday is a day to celebrate in his eyes which means taking you out and spoiling you because you deserve it even if you’ve done nothing besides order food for the two of you because it’d be rude not to.

Bf! Shotaro who stays up late every night to talk to you because he knows you like deep conversations. It’s 3am and he’s sitting on the balcony of your apartment with you as you talk non stop about what the stars mean and how big the universe is. He’d rather do this than sleep anyway! He loves hearing you talk and seeing the way your eyes light up when you’re excited.

#nct fanfic #nct dream #nct imagines #nct x black reader #nct u #nct taeyong x reader #taeyong x reader #yuta x reader #johnny x reader #haechan x reader #chenle #chenle x reader #xiaojun x reader #ten x reader #shotaro x reader #nct fluff #nct soft thoughts #nct headcanons #wayv x reader

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neochan · 1 year

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( 3:08 am ) ♡ bf!taeyong, cunnilingus + edging.

his jaw aches but he isn't done.

the sounds pouring from your parted lips are better than any scrap of music he could ever make. in fact, this should be recorded, played over and over again, but only for his ears.

the way his name falls from your lips, like the sweet sin of infinite, carnate desire. it pushes him to keep going, keep tasting the honey pouring from between your thighs like syrup on his tongue.

two fingers toy with you, teasingly pushing shallowly in, igniting the spark in your tummy, right before he pulls them out, dimming the fire and ripping an orgasm away from you.

you sigh in frustration, hands gripping the sheets beneath you, "tae, please."

his head peaks up from between your shaking legs, "please what baby?" pearly teeth twinkle when he smiles up at you.

"s-stop stopping."

"hm?" he licks a stripe over pussy, sending you into another moaning mess.

"need to finish, please."

without warning, both of his fingers push all the way into your soaked cunt, leaving you to buck up.

"sing my name while you cum on my fingers, okay?" he whispers, leveling his mouth with you and igniting the fire for what felt like the thousandth time.

#taeyong smut #nct taeyong smut #nct smut #nct 127 smut #taeyong x reader #nct taeyong x reader #taeyong drabbles #nct 127 taeyong smut #lee taeyong smut #nct drabble #nct timestamps

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ppumeonae-bigvibe · 7 days

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(he's) my work crush!!

↖ navigation: nct masterlist || main masterlist

pairing: co-worker/ crush! taeyong x gn! reader

↬ tags: colleagues au!, two silly people crushing on each other (my one sided delusion has allowed me to write this), ft tyong's friend doyoung at the very end through a single text

summary: work crushes do make your time at work a whole lot better!

word count: 633 words

“fancy meeting you here!”

you nearly dropped your phone and at the smooth, baritone voice from behind you. almost immediately, your entire body awakens at his mere closeness.

taeyong waves at you, eyes crinkling up as he moves to stand beside you.

you gave him a quick once over: clad in a simple button down and slacks, he always looked neat and tidy, his leather workbag slung on the right side of his body. his bright personality was infectious and paired with a smart-looking set of glasses, he was very easy on the eyes.

you subtly straightened your clothing and hair, hoping you didn’t appear too messy before him.

“yeah…! i saw that you were quite busy and assumed you might have to work overtime today.” taeyong was a new transfer to your department; placed in team 3, you occasionally saw him around, but never once interacted much beyond a "hi" or "bye".

you recall the first time you properly talked to taeyong: he sat beside you on one particularly crowded day at the staff canteen and for the sake of small talk you chatted with him since you two weren't exactly strangers. to your surprise, you two had hit it off well, having many topics to share about (talking smack about the company was a common one).

from then, taeyong became a constant partner during lunch hours...and you developed a tiny crush on him. after the first chance meeting, it was as if he had purposely found his way to you, catching you in the shared pantry, actively asking you for directions and bumping into you by the lifts. eventually you got comfortable to

as he clears his throat, you were pulled out of your revere and you noticed the sheepish smile on his face, explaining, “well, i was tryna pack my bag faster because...i...uh...was hoping to walk with you to the bus stop when work ended.”

getting flustered at the realization he was expecting you, you nodded in affirmation. taeyong pulled out his phone, thumbs busy tapping away. you took this moment to look away, trying to compose yourself in front of him.

“by the way, your bus is coming soon. mine’s two minutes after yours.” taeyong leans towards you, tilting his phone so you could see the timings for yourself. you couldn't help but inhale deeply, his signature cologne a nice welcome amidst all the dust and smoke of your surroundings.

“mhm. thanks for telling me.” you met his gaze and he grinned, "no worries. you do that for me all the time." that was true: often times you'd find taeyong scrambling to settle the last bit of his work, being new to the department and all. because you were already searching for the bus timings, you helped him out too.

"oh! there's your bus."

a sigh left your lips unconsciously, "thanks for waiting with me." he reciprocates the gesture, "i'll see you tomorrow...?" his eyes sparked with hope and anticipation and you hid a pleased smile, "yeah i'll see you tomorrow."

you board on the bus, slipping your headphones on to drown out the noises of the growing crowd. your gaze lands on taeyong standing outside the bus and he shoots you a warm smile, waving goodbye as the bus pulls out of the driveway. unable to contain the growing flush that is warming you from head to toe, you revel in the fact you did manage to catch him, even if it was a short moment.

"see you tomorrow..."

------

taeyong watches forlornly as your bus trundles away, a wide smirk touching his lips. fingers flying across his phone screen, he hurriedly texts his friend while he flags down his bus.

taeyong: guess who i saw at the bus stop today??! my work crush!!

doyoung: SAY IT NOW.

@ppumeonae-bigvibe 's work ; likes and reblogs are appreciated <3

#ppumeonae-bigvibe #nct #nct lee taeyong #nct taeyong x reader #nct imagines #nct scenarios

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marvelous-llama · 2 months

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NCT recs

<<original book

most of the mentioned works is 18+ NSFW, MINORS DNI

pls don´t hesitate to hmu, if any of mentioned links doesn´t work or you have suggestions for more fics... thank you so much for all the love and comments

one shots

little do you know by @lisired

Taeyong x fem!reader (wc - 14.9k) best friends > fwb > lovers - angst, smut, fluff(ish) After three years away from Miami, Taeyong is finally ready to return to the city. He left a world behind here, but most importantly, he left you. And being invited on a friendly get-together trip to a beach resort gives him a little too much time to resume unfinished business between you both.

series

#nct #nct 127 #nct u #nct x reader #nct smut #nct recs #nct 127 recs #taeyong #nct taeyong #lee taeyong #taeyong smut #taeyong x reader #nct taeyong x reader #lee taeyong x reader

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love-holics · 2 years

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little spoon

pairing: taeyong x reader

genre: fluff

warnings: mentions of anxiety

word count: 539

you patted your face with a soft towel as you completed your skincare routine and looked at yourself in the bathroom mirror. the fresh glow couldn't conceal the worried line between your brows or the frown that wouldn't leave your lips. the worry in your eyes was as obvious as the dark circles beneath them.

you took a deep breath before leaving the bathroom. it was late but you couldn't sleep. not being able to sleep made you anxious and not getting enough rest made it worse. you needed to break the cycle, but how?

you walked into the bedroom and saw your boyfriend sleeping on his side, his breathing deep and even. you smiled to yourself. it was calming to hear each repetitive breath he took.

something about it grounded you. you could feel your bare feet digging into the soft carpet. you relaxed your toes. you realized your hands were balled into fists. you let them relax at your sides. a twinge of pain in your jaw reminded you that you were clenching your teeth. you exhaled slowly and deeply and let go. you felt more at ease than you had all day and it was all due to the predictable rhythm of taeyong's breathing.

you lifted the covers slowly and got into bed, draping an arm over his body and spooning him from behind. you tried not to wake him but you couldn't help pressing your face into his bare back and breathing in his clean scent, which somehow made your heart flutter and feel calm at the same time. you placed a soft kiss on his shoulder and held him tighter, feeling grounded by his skin beneath your fingers and his warmth around your body.

you closed your eyes and focused on his breathing, hoping that you would soon sleep as peacefully as him. you suddenly felt his hand close around yours and pull it up to his mouth for a kiss. "hey, baby," he said in his deep, sleepy voice.

"shh, go back to sleep. I didn't mean to wake you." you placed a soft kiss on his back as an apology.

he kissed your hand once more before interlocking his fingers with yours and giving you a squeeze.

he could always tell when your anxiety was a little worse when he became the little spoon. you liked holding on to him because it helped you feel in control of your body and what was beneath your fingers. he liked being able to ground you without making it obvious or making you feel weak. as much as he wanted to care for you, he knew there were limits to his help and that you wanted to find your own healthy coping mechanisms.

his favorite part was waiting for you to finally fall asleep before shifting positions so that you were enveloped in his arms with your head on his chest. and every morning, without fail, you would look bewildered at your new sleeping positions while he just barely kept the amused smirk off his face. and he would feel his heart soar as you smiled sleepily at him and cuddled him a little tighter, knowing you were all his and he was all yours.

#taeyong x reader #nct taeyong x reader #taeyong fluff #nct taeyong fluff #nct fluff #lee taeyong #lee taeyong fluff #nct imagines #nct scenarios #taeyong drabbles #taeyong imagines #lee taeyong x reader

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kdyism · 1 year

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3. doing the laundry. lee taeyong

pairing. taeyong x reader, genre. established-relationship!au, fluff, warn. banter, wc. 0,397

Lazy Sundays are never truly lazy when it comes to the two of you. It's more like reset Sundays.

Stepping out of the shower, your hair nicely wrapped in a towel you call out his name, "The laundry's done! Can you take it out?" you ask, unsure where Taeyong might be when he wasn't in your sight where he normally would be, the sofa.

Pushing open your room's door, you spot him folding away some spare clothes and you ask him confusedly, "From when is that?"

It's not that he was prone to untidiness but the fact he put off a week's worth of work that irked you. You watch him, nervously smile before speaking.

"Hah," Taeyong laughs weakly, immediately can tell it's from guilt. "Last week..."

"Taeyong," you grumble sternly, "So that's why you could go meet John before four last week— liar!" you point at him accusingly.

Smiling in defeat, "I'll make up okay, I'll help you clean up your share too today," he quickly tries to make up, as he usually does and you give in, as you usually do.

As part of your weekly reset, doing the laundry is your number one priority. Taeyong learnt that as soon as he began dating you and saw a pattern that on Sundays, even if you were off, you only promised him your time after four in the evening. Though, he quickly learnt that's because you finish all your pending chores on Sunday.

"Now go get the washed clothes in the bucket please," you ask nicely, screwing open your lotion and dabbing it on your face.

As you finish your routine, Taeyong drags the laundry basket to the corner of the living area where your hanger awaits.

Taeyong thinks that putting the laundry to dry together is a great bonding exercise, talking about mundane things while doing mundane activities, to him doing the laundry with you just comes naturally because he wants to spend time with you even if you aren't the most affectionate or lovey-dovey because sometimes, love looks like the two of hanging up clothes to dry while you grumble at all his little excuses and he smiles, waiting for you to finally look at with the same look you always do and say what you always say, "You are so lucky I love you otherwise your dirty ass would be out that door,"

yunn note: thank you for reading, and i hope you liked it <3 comments, reblogs, likes are appreciated!

#nct-writers #neowritingsnet #nct x reader #nct 127 x reader #nct taeyong x reader #taeyong x reader #nct imagines #nct 127 imagines

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lcvejaem · 1 year

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𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 [n.yt]

wc <1.1k, genre: slight fluff angst pairing: n.yt x reader,l.ty x reader warnings; not proof read

𝙎𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚𝙨 𝙬𝙚 𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙚 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚.

High school would be the most enjoyable time of your life. It was the time when you've met your closest friends, when you've first realized

your talent and when you've first met your first love. It was like a rollercoaster ride, it was full of ups and downs, it's confusing yet it was still made you who you are at the present.Your first ever love was Lee Taeyong, the schools resident “bad boy”. Even though you wanted to deny it, Taeyong turned out to like you too, and the day he admitted it was probably one of the happiest days of your life. Your friends argued that the feelings you had for Taeyong weren't more than an infatuation, but you knew they weren't. The only person who could tell if it was true love or not would be you, and in your case, it was.

How?

It was simply because you have never loved another person more than you did Taeyong. He was distinct from everyone and everything. Your heart was torn to a million pieces the day he told you that your relationship wouldn't work, and it hasn't fully healed since then. You two were together for six years. Immediately following your graduation, he broke up with you. Everyone was shocked to learn the news because they all believed you two would live to see the end, but it turns out that everyone was mistaken, including you. It was very difficult to move on, especially when you truly love someone. Time doesn't just make the wound go away; you constantly search for him and long for his presence. You haven't heard anything about him since the breakup. He severed all ties with you, and you were devastated when you had thoughts of him moving on quickly. He is still there and always will be. When you first saw Taeyong, you came to the conclusion that the world must be playing tricks on you.When you went to your university to apply, that was the time. It turned out that he applied to the same school as you. Although seeing him was extremely uncomfortable and painful, you were quite relieved to notice the bags under his eyes. The same as you, he was in pain. After your breakup, that was the first and last time you saw him. You wonder why he chose a different university and worry about him.

Eventually, you've gotten a little better. Unlike before, thoughts about Taeyong only come across your mind once a day and you've even dated one guy from your department, the Japanese guy, Nakamoto Yuta.

"Do you know why koalas are considered bears?" Yuta asked you,causing you to lift your head up to look at him.

"Why?" You asked back, your brows furrowed together as you wondered what he was telling about.

"Because they don't have koalifications." He said and then bursting out into loud laughter. You've stared at him with blank expression, couldn't get the fact that he just stated an unfunny joke right inside the cafeteria where students are enjoying their food.

"You're weird." You said, chuckling at him. Yuta's laughter died down.He grinned at you and leaned forward, close enough for your noses to touch.

"But you love me." He smiled, causing your heart to go frenzy.

"Ah where's the lie in that?" You pushed his face away but he leaned back close to yours again.

He then murmured. "I love you." You were dumbfounded at his sudden words, making you blush really hard as you moved your head back, away from him. The sudden attack was unbearable, Yuta's too adorable.

"Idiot." You mumbled under your breath, which made Yuta to chuckle. He reached for your hand and gently rubbed his thumb against yours.

"At least this idiot loves you." He said, sincerity evident in his voice.

"Aww, my Yuta must've casted a spell on me," You cooed. "Because I'm so into you."

He winced at your corny line, which led to the two of you eventually laughing at your own foolishness. It was just one of your quieter moments together, and you had no idea that, deep down, you had always wanted to spend more time with Yuta because you were still holding out for Taeyong. Yuta and you both graduated and found respectable jobs as time went on. Despite his busy schedule, Yuta never missed an opportunity to make time for you. He was already sweet, but as time passes, he becomes even more romantic, making it impossible for your heart to stay still when he's around. You experienced a magical state of being in love, just like a young child.

"What do you want to eat?" Yuta asked while the two of you roamed around the mall. It was saturday and he insisted on bringing you out to have some walk, probably one of his excuses to bring you out on a date.

"Anything." As you surveyed the shops, you replied. You just kept looking around as Yuta went silent as he considered what to eat. You noticed two adorable stuffed animals and made a mental note to get one for both you and your boyfriend. Your eyes landed on someone just as you were about to turn back to Yuta, causing your whole body to tense and drawing Yuta's attention. Taeyong was standing close to you and appeared more attractive than before. Your heart began to beat twice as your eyes locked with his. Your breath was caught in your throat.

" Ash?" Yuta called out and followed your gaze. "You know him?"

Without you noticing, you grabbed Yuta's hand, gripping on his tightly as you slowly felt yourself calming down. The corners of your lips slowly curled upwards when you looked at Yuta.

Yuta's eyes widened in surprise when he looked at Taeyong. "Oh you weren't lying when you said you've dated a hot guy before." He chuckled nervously.

"Why are you nervous?" You asked, intertwining your fingers with his.

"You are mistaken if you believe that I still feel anything for him. I already have a spell cast on me by My Yuta, and he has my heart safely locked away." You then came to the conclusion that Taeyong was not your true love. What you felt for him was genuine, but what Yuta made you feel was on a completely different level than what Taeyong had previously done. Nothing else but Yuta's arms around you could make you feel as safe and protected as Yuta's love did. You truly loved him, Nakamto yuta, he will always be your dream boy.

#yuta x reader #nakamoto yuta #nct 127 angst #nct 127 fluff #nct yuta x reader #nct taeyong x reader #yuta fluff #taeyong angst #taeyong x male reader #taeyong x y/n #nct yuta x y/n #nct yuta x male reader

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inyourdreamzen · 1 year

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taeyong au recos

love theory genre - college au | fluff | angst | comedy word count | 21k +

#nct au #nct fanfic #nct x reader #nct 127 fanfic #nct taeyong x reader

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mayaflowerxs · 1 year

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BABY MAKING

Synopsis: What was meant to be a quick shopping trip to Target ends in you and your husband trying for a second baby.

Warning: Fluff / Humorish / Smut. Swear word usage, Est. Couple, Father!Jaehyun, pregnancy kink, daddy kink, and more!

A/N: Here’s a little something while I finish the requests sorry it’s taking a while, anyways enjoy! :)

Pairing: Jaehyun x fem reader

Your parents had insisted on looking over your daughter which you didn’t hesitate to agree. You had to admit, you love your daughter a blessing really but it’s gotten a point in your life where you just need that fresh breath of air. Even if it means your time be spent running errands. Much like you, your husband was on the same page. Endless nights from both work and parenting takes a toll on a person. The eye bags on both yours and his face have gotten visibly deeper along with the noticeable fatigue. And as you drop off your daughter with one last kiss to her adorable little head, the two of you were off.

Target. The store where there’s practically everything one could possibly need. You enter wearing baggy sweats and lose t-shirt. Hair in a messy bun as you start looking over your grocery list, for the lack of time the list has gotten rather long. Jaehyun by your side as he took the responsibility in maneuvering the cart. “Eggs, Milk, Diapers, Paper Towels…” as the two of you go aisle by aisle you felt yourself at ease for the time being. For a while it seemed like it was only you two. Just how it was only a year ago. It still feels odd to think you’re a mother now. Staring down at your hand and seeing the pearly white Diamond glimmering on your ring finger, shifting your eyes and seeing Jaehyun’s as well. Feeling his elbow nudge you, you look up at him. A soft smile on his face as he tilts his head at you. “You okay? You kinda spaced out on me.” Chuckling lightly you nod, “I’m good. You got the formula?” “Right here. Oh look they have my socks I wear.” Letting him walk off to inspect the aisle of socks, you check off the formula on your list. Waiting for your husband to choose a pair of socks took quite a while, too long you might say. And just before you’re about ready to hurry him up you hear the cry of a baby behind you.

Turning and seeing a mother had been strolling by, picking up her son as she consoles him. You can’t help but smile at the scene, until you stopped. With wide eyes, you turn to face your husband. “Jae gimme your hoodie.” Not turning to face you he responds, “Baby didn’t I say to bring a sweater? I told you it was gonna be cold.” He snorts wincing when you leave a rather hard smack on his bicep. Looking back, his eyes widen when he sees you clenching your chest. “Are you…?” “Yes Jae, I’m lactating!” The sound of a baby’s cry has left a wet patch on your through your shirt.

Yay on motherhood.

Quick to take his hoodie off, he covers you from any passerby’s. “Can’t believe this is happening.” Hearing Jaehyun chuckle, you send him a glare as you are left uncomfortably soaked. “Lets just get the rest of the groceries and get out of here.” You tell him annoyedly, and without another word he grabs his socks and quickly puts it in the cart.

With every passing second spent in Target was just another second your poor breasts were being filled with milk. And as the thought came in, the realization settled. “God I forgot the breast pump is broken.” You say, “It’s alright we can go grab another it’ll be the last thing before checking out.” Nodding the two of you make your way out. About to enter the aisle you’re forcibly knocked into another person walking out in a hurry. Clutching your chest in pain by the sudden pressure. “Excuse you!” Jaehyun shouts when he sees the woman simply walk by without even acknowledging your presence. Rolling his eyes at her, his irritated expression changes immediately of one of worry. “You okay baby?” Out of words to say from the pain you simply nod and wave him off. Instead you merely point at the breast pump. “Right.” Grabbing it and putting it in the cart, he wraps an arm around your waist and helps you move. By the time the two of you made it outside, you didn’t wait for Jaehyun and instead grabbed the box with the pump and ran straight to the passengers seat.

A grin on his face as he watched you, wearing slides and holding your chest as you struggled to open the door, looking up at him and seeing he had the keys held up for you to see. “Open it!” He hears you yell in which he snorts and does so. By the time he’s done filling the trunk with the grocery bags, he gets in and sees you almost filling a bottle full of breast milk. “Did not think it’d get swollen so quickly.” You moan in pain as you try to massage the tender breast. Sending you a sympathetic smile he leans in and kisses you. “Love you.” He mumbles on your lips. “Yeah yeah-“ You say trying to not put much attention to the obvious heat your face was getting from his words. Years later and still he had you a blushing mess. Hearing him laugh, he leans further and presses a kiss on your boob. Buckling in, he turns on the ignition and looks over at you. “Want Starbucks? Heard it’s okay to have a bit of caffeine while breast feeding…I can even get you a cake pop.” Looking at him, you contemplate it for a bit before nodding. Smiling, he rests a hand on your thigh and gives it a soft squeeze before backing out of the parking lot.

By the time you’re in the drive thru and waiting in the long line of cars, Jaehyun can’t help but revert his eyes over at you. The pumping is rather loud and after a while it’s gotten annoying with his hoodie constantly in the way so you pushed it up and now have your entire chest out in the open. Thank god for the tinted windows you managed to convince him to get. Swallowing as he bounces his leg quicker than ever. “Geez what’s gotten you so fidgety?” You joke at him, completely oblivious to the effect you have on him. Missing the hard gulp he takes, he doesn’t have time to respond to you before he’s having to drive forward and roll his window down. The man about to read him his bill, gets his words caught in his throat when he noticed you. Jaehyun whips his head around and grabs his hoodie and tugs it down. A whine escapes you as it caused the bottle to tip and have some of the milk spill.

“Jae-“ Face palming when you see the poor boy’s face red and hot you look down. Resting a hand on the arm rest covering your view of him. “Sorry about that.” Jaehyun can merely say before handing him his card. Clearing his throat awkwardly, the cashier mutters out a low, ‘it’s okay’ before swiping the card.

“You could have at least warned me.” You tell him the second the window is up and getting out of the drive thru. “I’m sorry I wasn’t thinking how could I?” “What, are you saying my breasts are too distracting?” You ask him as you take a bite out of your cake pop. He goes to respond but is cut off when you groan in pain again. “God I don’t understand how my girls can work so fast. I’m already full again!” Hearing the sound of the pump again, Jaehyun takes a quick glance over and seeing your breasts were out in the open again. Feeling the familiar tightness in his pants he shifts in his seat uncomfortably before clearing his throat. “Babe I know it’s something out of your control but-“ he barely manages to get out as his hand grips on the steering wheel, his other on your thigh riding higher up your leg.

“Oh my god are you seriously turned on right now?” You say surprisingly. “Can you blame me? You know I’m a titties man.” Slapping his chest, he smirks and glances over at you briefly. “Gosh when aren’t you horny?” “Hey I didn’t see you complaining the night our daughter was conceived.” Mouth slightly parted you squint your eyes at him. “My period was close to kicking in, my hormones were running high.” “Yeah,” he scoffs. “Hormones alright let’s blame it on that.” He finishes while trailing higher until they rest on top of your clothed cunt. Gasping, you grip his wrist. “Still sensitive as always, shall I blame that on the hormones as well?”

Smirking when he sees you spread your legs he begins to rub circles. A small moan falls off your lips, “Of course I’m sensitive, I did just shit out a baby a few months ago.” “Birthed babe, you birthed our daughter.”

“Yeah well when you’re in a state of pure agony you no longer give a shit if you were constipated or giving birth either way, you’re being ripped apart regardless.”

Lifting your hand, he takes it up to his lips and presses a kiss. “And I’m so proud of you for that. I don’t say it enough but you really are so strong and admirable, I could never and it’s why I love you so much.” Sending him a soft smile, you pick up your drink and take a sip of it. For a while it was silent the car ride home, and it isn’t until you’re only a block away does he speak up.

“I’m still horny by the way.”

The groceries go ignored the second Jaehyun parks in the drive way. Carrying you inside the empty house his focus is on you. Sliding his tongue in your mouth as you run your hands through his hair. Setting you on to the closest furniture, the couch. He begins to take off his shirt. Tossing it aside as he leans back in to attach his lips with yours. Large hands roaming up your stomach, lifting your shirt to trace the beautiful stretch marks he’s fallen in love with. A memory of when you were pregnant with his daughter. Finding his way to your breasts where you let out a loud moan the second he punches your nipples. Trailing gentle kisses on them and feeling himself get harder when he notices a small streak of your milk fall down your chest. The tightness in his jeans is painful, and his grunts are heard throughout the house the second your hand is placed on top of his bulge.

“Please baby.” “What is it my love?” He curls a finger underneath your chin and tilts his head. “Mhm?” “Let me make you feel good.” Pupils dark and dilated, he finds no reason to object. Standing up and unbuckling his belt, he hissed when the cool air hits his hard cock. Soft hands fisting him as you kitten lick him. Too slow for his taste, and so he grabs your chin and gets you to open. Grabbing his dick and propping it in your mouth. “Good girl.” He groans when he feels your tongue salivate him. Taking him deeper and quickening your pace. Bobbing your head as you gag every now and then. Music to his hears, enamored with your beautiful eyes that look up at him for approval. “Taking me so well, keep sucking pretty girl.” Fisting your hair in his hold his breathing becomes uneven the sloppier you suck him. Pulling away and a long stripe of your saliva connecting you to him. He’s red and veiny and it only makes you want to keep sucking him more. Until he’s completely empty. Jaehyun was right, hormones wasn’t the reason why you yearned for him so much. You being on your period wasn’t why you got pregnant. You got pregnant because you want him, everyday. A man so appealing like him is impossible to not be attracted.

The man standing before you yearns for you just as much. Seeing you on your knees taking his big cock is enough to fuck you with his babies any time of the day. With how sex craved the two of you are, he’s surprised it took you guys this long to finally get pregnant. The slurps and gargles are heard bouncing off the walls, grunts and groans coming from your husband add on to it. His abs are clenched when he feels the familiar feeling beginning to form. Throwing his head back, he starts fucking your throat. With need and desperation he’s trying to find his climax. “Shit!” He can’t help but swear when you suck in your cheeks. The tightness around his dick, your warm mouth and talented tongue is enough to throw him over the edge. He feels himself explode in your mouth, shooting it all down your throat. Shivers coursing throughout his skin when he feels you hum on his dick. Watching you swallow every single drop. A small twinkle in your eyes as a bit of his cum falls from the crevice of your mouth. Leaning in to kiss you, he tastes the saltiness of himself. “Not done with you yet.” He murmurs on top of your lips.

He was right. For the time your parents had your daughter, Jaehyun took it as an opportunity to get back some husband and wife bonding time. He missed your touch, and even though the cuddling and make outs are just as good he still craved you. Seeing you pumping milk did things to him and even though it pained him to see you in labor tired and in pain it only made him want to love you a thousand times more. Your round belly and the after glow of postpartum birth, he feels like a dog thinking this way but he can’t help but want to fuck another baby in you. So soon but he wants to, needs to.

The two of you always spoke of how many kids you’d want and even though Jaehyun was the one who wanted a big family in comparison to you, the two of you agreed you at least wanted the kids to be close in age. Which is why he has no problem getting you nice and spread on the kitchen counter. Not caring you were in the middle of putting away the milk you had just pumped, and instead focuses on making you come over and over again with his tongue. Get you nice and soak so you’re ready to take him for countless rounds it takes to get you nice and stuffed. “Jae!” You hiccup, he doesn’t remove his mouth. He doesn’t even flinch, instead he buries his face further into your pussy. Eating you like a starved man and grunting each time your nails tugged a little too hard on his hair. “Baby it’s too much!” You throw your head back on the table. Completely naked for him just the way he likes it, hickies left all over your skin trailing them down to your sensitive pussy where your legs are trying their hardest not to close. Your husband’s large hands keeping them spread as he spits on your clit before diving right back in.

Your breath hitches as you shake in his hold. Another orgasm is ripped out of you, tears falling down your face. Jaehyun can feel you throbbing on his tongue, your sweet juices hitting his tastebuds. Finally, he pulls away. A shimmer around his mouth as he pulls you closer to the edge of the table. Leaning in to press a firm kiss on your lips, muffling the loud moan of yours when he forced himself inside you. No matter how much scissoring and tongue fucking he’s done you simply refuse to get used to his size. Your husband’s too big and it’s what drives you into subspace. He knows that, which is why he fucks you for hours if he really wanted to. Until he sees your pretty tears and face lost in pure bliss does he let up. Your husband has insane stamina, he can go for so long without ever climaxing. That’s unless you blow him, then he turns putty for you.

“So big!” You gasp out, eyes shut but Jaehyun doesn’t like that. No, you can’t lose yourself right now. He needs your eyes on him, to see how beautifully connected you two are. How well you take him, tapping your cheek he presses a soft kiss on your cheekbone. “Open those pretty eyes for me mama.” Mewling, he doesn’t give you time to disobey him. Lightly slapping the side of your face to get you to look at him and when you do he can’t help but grin. You looked ethereal in your current position, seeing you shining in sweat, chest covered in his love marks and lips swollen he can practically go feral for you. So he does. Gripping your legs and hovering them over your hips he begins to ram into you. The claps much louder along with your moans. Breath hitching each time he hits your gspot, your hands quick to grab onto his forearm digging your nails into his skin. Giving him space to nuzzle his face in the crook of your neck. His favorite place to stuff his face in second to stuffing it in your sopping pussy.

You feel his hot tongue running up your neck, shivering at the sensation especially when your husband doesn’t show signs in slowing down. Your walls gripping him tightly the harder he pounds into you. It felt good, so good your eyes began to tear up. Squelches were heard as your stomach kept clenching. When he pulls away, his hair is in the way. His eyes slightly covered, looking down he lets out a loud grunt upon seeing the prominent bump near your lower abdomen. “Where you feel me?” He huskily asks. “So deep!” Grabbing your hand, he leads it down to your stomach and has it lying on top of the print of his tip. “Feel me here baby?” “Yes!” Throwing your head back when he stops his movement to focus on thrusting further. “How about now?”

You couldn’t answer, you felt full and pure bliss. And as much as you’d like to indulge in the pleasure, your husband has a need for you to remind him how good he makes you feel. “Answer me.” “God I feel you in my stomach Jae!” It’s all he wanted to hear to get back to fucking you. Plunging in and out, quick motions before he pulls out and turns you around. Despite the insane amount lust he has, he takes the time to grab a pillow and rest it under your hip. Gentle to pull your hair away from your face and use it as leverage when he goes back to ramming inside you.

“I’m so close!” He’s gone silent, and you know once he is it means he too is close. And as the two of you are hitting your climax, you’ll soon come to find out this won’t be the last of it today.

Your parents are meant to drop your daughter off soon, in an hour precisely when the clock strikes 9 but Jaehyun wasn’t worried. He’s taken the initiative to have sex with you on all the surface inside the house. He can’t quite explain where this sudden horniness came from, maybe the breast pumping truly was a turn on for him and he just now acted upon it. It only took about half up to an hour before Jaehyun attached himself back on you. Wrapping his arms, pressing heated kisses to the nape of your neck, rubbing his groin up against your ass before he bends you over whatever surface nearest to you. By the time night came, your and his hair looked completely disheveled along with bruised lips. Necks covered in dark colors and both reeking of sex.

Couch, bed, kitchen counter, wall, door it was endless and he was sure he had gotten you pregnant by now. You guys went at it like a bunch of bunnies no way he didn’t knock you up. And as he lied on the bed watching you get ready to shower, the thought of you wet and naked had him getting hard again. Not even uttering a single word before he follows you in. “Excuse me?” Not responding, he closes the door and begins to take off his shirt. Revealing his toned chest to be covered in scratch marks, fainted lipstick and hickies. “One more won’t hurt right?” He raises a brow and smiles mischievously. “Are you trying to impregnate me with twins or something?” Shrugging, he picks you up and settles you on the counter. Pressing his lips on top of yours, he helps take off your oversized tee. “Would it be so bad?”

Giggling, you open your legs to let him fit right between them. Seeing his eyes darken as he leans in to start fondling with your breasts. Gasping when you feel yourself starting to lactate. “Jae!” Holding you still he continues to suck. Your tits were sensitive, you couldn’t hold still but this never faltered the man in front of you. Instead he grew determined and as he tastes your sweet milk he knew, there was absolutely no way he could wait who knows how many days before he can have you to himself again. Play with you as much as his heart desires. So, with reluctance he pulls away. Watching a few drops fall on your stomach. Leaning in to lick it up, you feel yourself begin to get excessively wet again. Playing with his soft hair, your intrusive thoughts wanting you to simply push his head a bit further to where you most need him.

“Be right back, need to make a call. Get in while I do that.” He says hurriedly. Curling a finger around your chin, he pulls you in for another wet sloppy kiss before walking out the bathroom. With a huff, you do as told and get into the shower. And while the bathroom steamed up, waiting impatiently for your husband to return and fuck you. Jaehyun quickly picked up his phone and dialed the familiar phone number. One ring, two rings and on the third they picked up.

“Afternoon Mrs. Y/l/n, so sorry to bother but something came up and I don’t think we’ll be home tonight. You wouldn’t mind if she stayed with you for the night right?”

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lebrookestore · 2 years

Text

love theory | l.ty

Pairing: Lee Taeyong x reader

Themes: best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, college au, wingwoman au, fluff, angst, comedy, mutual pining, lots of lying, kissing, references to 13 going on 30, Lee ‘whipped’ Taeyong, PG 15

Warnings: profanity, usage of nicknames, food, kissing, lying, angst, themes of being let down, slight unrequited love, taeyong is a little bit of a jerk but its unintentional i promise you he’s a sweetheart

Wc: 21k

Summary: "hey google, how do you fake going on a date with someone that doesn't even exist because you were too much of a coward to tell your best friend you're in love with her so now you're screwed? sincerely, taeyong."

Playlist: love theory by taeyong and wonstein, theres no way by julia michaels and lauv; starlight by taeil; best friends by conan gray; how you get the girl by taylor swift; just friends by why don’t we, shine by pentagon

Notes from brooke: happy birthday to the loml!! it’s been a hot minute since i posted anything but i had to for taeyong day, so i wrote this entire fic in eight days 🧍‍♀️ go big or go home amirite? (living that enhypen agenda). anyway! i worked really hard on this fic and had a lot of fun writing this, so i hope you enjoy reading it! as always, feedback would be much appreciated<3

Taeyong didn’t have the best luck when it came to romance.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true, he had been in a few relationships before. He had been through the first date giddiness several times and that fluttery, nervous feeling you get when you first start to get to know someone. He had experienced the lows of heartbreak and the sorrow of a breakup, the awkwardness of a crush, and— well, you get the point.

So theoretically, he should have been fine. There was no need to be so jittery about the situation because it wasn’t anything new. Unfortunately for him, knowing this did not help him at all, even though one would think it would. Even Doyoung agreed, he was hopeless.

To be fair though, Doyoung wasn’t much better than he was, if not worse. Taeyong sighed, taking his phone and holding it over his face as he opened his gallery. His current position was him lying down over the expanse of his sofa, aimlessly scrolling through the app.

It wasn’t completely aimless, he supposed. He was the type of guy who took pictures of the most random things on a daily basis, and sometimes he enjoyed looking through them, especially if they were artistic in a sense. His eyes caught on one and he smiled briefly, clicking on it.

This was one he hadn’t taken himself, but rather Doyoung had. In it was him and you standing over the kitchen island in your parent's house, with you staring down at a bowl of what he remembered to be a very uncooperative batch of icing with a poisonous look. You had never had much talent when it came to the kitchen, it was almost laughable at this point.

Taeyong, on the other hand, wasn’t looking at the icing, but rather at you, with the softest expression gracing his features. The ghost of a smile played on his lips as stared at you, beyond amused at your perplexed state at that moment.

He blinked, taking in the picture in its entirety with a small grin. He was so enraptured by it that he missed the clicking sound his door made when it was opened, and the footsteps that quickly made their way towards the living room where he sat (or rather, lay down), growing louder with each step.

“You won’t fucking believe what happened today-”

Taeyong was startled at the sudden sound of your voice cutting through his self-induced reverie, causing him to let go of his phone in a split second of panic.

Now, in the ninth grade back in high school, he had learned about Newton’s law of universal gravitation. It stated that two bodies in space pull on each other with a force proportional to their masses and the distance between them. He could lie and say that he understood whatever the fuck that meant, but in truth, he had simply memorized it for the exam he had to write on it that year.

What he did understand, however, was the fact that gravity was a thing. He received a first-hand demonstration of it right then and there when his phone fell flat on his face, leaving him to let out a string of very colourful language in annoyance.

Picking up the device that caused him a face injury, he pushed himself to sit up straight, glaring at your figure as you walked through the doorway and into the living room. The sight of you thereafter you had let yourself in was by no means a new or surprising one- he had given you a key to his place a long time ago, one that you kept along with your own keys.

No, Taeyong was more embarrassed that he had been caught so off guard, even if you hadn’t been there to see it. Thank god for that, because he knew that you would probably tease him for a good half an hour about it, before forgetting about it until some obscure moment in the future when you would bring it up again just to annoy him

How wonderful.

This time you didn’t seem aware of his sentiments at that moment, too caught up in your own business to do so. You stormed in after carefully taking your shoes out at the entrance and keeping them there neatly, and placed your hands on your hips, giving him an expectant look.

He sighed, pretending to be uninterested for a moment. “What happened?”

“I got paired with Kim Ji-woo for this project in my screenwriting class,” You groaned, making your way over to the couch where he sat and plopping yourself down beside him. “And look- Ji-woo is great, super sweet and a really nice person but is absolutely useless when it comes to project work! The last time someone was in a group with her she somehow managed to not contribute in the slightest!”

You slumped into the cushions in defeat, glancing at Taeyong who hummed in acknowledgment of your words.

“Sounds like a you problem.”

Scoffing, you took one of the cushions and hit his arm with it, causing him to laugh as he raised it in defense of himself.

“I come to you in time of distress and thats all you say? What type of shitty best friend are you?”

You were only joking, of course, because you knew that there was no way you could ever survive without Taeyong. He was your constant, the one person you knew you could fall back on with your eyes closed and trust that he would be there to catch you.

You had known him since the both of you were eighteen in your senior year of high school. Saying you knew him was a bit of a stretch considering your relationship at that only included polite nods and glances in between classes and in the hallways. You were acquaintances at most and forgot about each other's existence until you found yourself in the same classroom at your university, and he was the only person who was familiar to you.

Naturally, you went up to him and struck up a conversation with him and the acquaintance turned into a friend, and the friend turned into a best friend. Now a junior, you had stuck with him for around three years and could not have asked for more.

Alright, maybe that last bit was a small lie. There was something else you could have asked for, but it was a wish you preferred to keep to yourself.

He was gorgeous too, possibly one of the most beautiful people you had ever seen. It wasn’t your fault he was such a lovely person in every way, so really the possible feelings you harboured towards him (again, it was just a possibility and this was all off the record) was just a by-product of that. You would never be able to explain how just thinking about him would brighten your mood, or how you always felt safe with him. You would continue disregarding these thoughts, especially the one about how his idiotic little smile could prompt a smile of your own.

You chalked it down to him having an infectious smile and laugh, which wasn’t untrue. He was the type of guy who could light up a room with just his presence, and you were more than grateful to be able to call him yours.

Erm- your best friend, that is!

“Hey,” he caught your attention once again, a softer look on his face. “If it’s that much of an issue, just give her a few basic tasks and I’ll try and help you with your parts, okay?”

You furrowed your eyebrows in thought at this suggestion of his, and if you were going to be honest it sounded like a pretty good compromise. This wasn’t his first time being your saviour when it came to academics, in fact, he was there with you just last finals season. He had stayed up with you and helped you study even though his courses were not in any way similar to yours.

And you would do the same for him, you knew. It was just how the two of you worked, a good symbiotic relationship- well not a relationship but a friendship and-

While you were busy getting too in your head over your friendship and as you mindlessly nodded to his idea, he studied your features. The slope of your nose and the way your hair fell into your face since half of it was out of your poorly tied ponytail. Somehow throughout your graceful chaos, you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Instinctively, he reached out and tucked some of your hair behind your ear, startling you just enough to look back at him with wide eyes.

His mouth went dry for just a moment, and he realized that he was well and truly fucked. Whether you knew it or not, you had him wrapped around your little finger, and he couldn’t find it in himself to break away.

So yes, Taeyong didn’t have much luck in the love department.

Because he had fallen in love with his best friend.

There was something off about Taeyong today- like he wasn’t as normal as usual.

To be fair though, there wasn’t anything inherently normal about him either, but it was blatantly obvious right now. His knee bounced and he wasn’t paying any attention to the PowerPoint presentation of lecture notes on the screen of his laptop.

Moreover, his outfit was just a tad fancier than what you were used to, which was a shirt and skinny jeans, a jacket if he wanted to dress it up a little. The button-up he was wearing made him look great (not that he didn’t look like someone who walked out of the cover of a Vogue issue anyways, but this only amped that up), and the pretty silver earrings he wore only added to the look. And you could be mistaken, but you knew him extremely well, and you were willing to bet that he was wearing that good cologne he had.

You knew about it since half of his hoodies lived in your closet, but that was a conversation for another time. What was important now was the fact that he was actually using it. He mostly went for the less lavish one- which was also pretty good, again you would know- so this was a little bit of a surprise.

“Okay, fine, I’ll bite,” you cut through the silence that reigned over the library, “What is going on here?”

He looked at you in confusion. Wincing, you realized you had been a little too loud when the library sent a scathing look in your general direction and you lowered your tone to a whisper.

“What do you mean?” He asked softly and you gave him a once over.

“You look….good,” you cleared your throat as quietly as possible. “Why do you look good?”

This was not the reaction he had been hoping for. Taeyong raised an eyebrow, “Thank you? I’m sorry? Why do I feel like I’ve done something wrong?”

You shook your head, leaning over so you could speak a little softer, “I mean- you look great all the time but it feels like you put in more effort today- why?”

Why? Oh, that truly was an interesting question. A loaded question, but an interesting one nonetheless, because the answer was embarrassing. He studied your face, the narrowing of your eyes and furrowing of your eyebrows out of curiosity. You looked cute.

“I just felt like it.” He shrugged, but you could tell he was lying the moment the words left his mouth. The tips of his ears turned red, which was his tell. You scoffed at his attempt to lie to your face because he had always been absolutely terrible at doing so. You could see through him and read him like a book.

“Uh-huh.”

Okay, so maybe there was a motive behind this. Doyoung- god, he really had to stop going to him for help when it came to you- suggested he start trying to make his way out of the best friend zone because it was around ten times worse than the friend zone. The best friend zone was much deeper for it symbolized the trust and relationship between the two of you, but it wasn’t exactly the relationship he had been hoping for.

You were squinting at him now as if trying to peer into his mind and figure out what was going on in it. He briefly wondered if he should hold his book over his head so he could stop the brainwaves, or whatever.

“You’re trying to impress someone,” you concluded incredulously, eyes wide when you realized. In your ‘eureka’ moment, you once again forgot that you were in a library. The librarian rapped one of her books on her desk hard against it to catch your attention, leaving you to mouth that you were sorry, before muttering something about her under your breath.

Before Taeyong could even respond, you raised an eyebrow, “A girl? Oh my god, do you like someone?”

‘Yeah, you.’ He thought.

“Nope.” He lied.

But the lie came out much too quick, and you immediately figured out that you had hit the nail right on the head. So you waited for a moment to think of a clever one-liner to tease him with.

Nothing.

Instead, you felt rather hollow about this new development. You knew you should feel excited about it for him, to press him for answers and be delighted, but you didn’t and the worst part was that you had to make sure he wouldn’t pick up on that.

“Who is it?” You demanded, trying your best to sound normal as if you were genuinely curious. You weren’t. You would rather know anything else than who the person who had captured Taeyongs affections was. Lucky bitch.

Oh god, that definitely wasn’t very nice of you. This was why you didn’t want to know because if anyone was going to turn into a bitch because of it, it was you. No, that simply wouldn’t do, instead, you would help him.

Why?

Because you loved Taeyong enough to let him go, or at least that was what you were going to tell yourself. Also because that was what friends did.

And you and Taeyong were really good fucking friends.

He looked a little scandalized, eyes wide when he realized you had managed to deduce what the matter was within seconds. He almost dropped his book in surprise.

“It—it’s not important.”

“Yes, it is,” you leaned forward, “Do I know her?”

Now it was Taeyongs turn to panic because while just telling you the truth sounded extremely appealing, the possibility of getting rejected didn’t. He didn’t really want to lie to you either, but if those were the only two choices he had, he knew what he had to do.

“Nope.”

You deflated, slumping in your seat. Knowing who your competition was would be nice.

“Just tell me already!” You pouted, and Taeyong had to physically make sure he wasn’t looking at you at that moment because he knew that even one glance at your expression would have him melting on the spot.

“No.”

You pressed your lips together. You would help him, you promised yourself, but perhaps now your motivations were a little different. If you offered to help him, you’d learn who the lucky girl was sooner or later. You hoped later wouldn’t be at their wedding.

“At least let me help you,” you sighed in exasperation, “This is what best friends do, you know, they play wingwoman. Give you the love theory you need.” You cleared your throat to rid it of the lump that had lodged there when you figured out that he liked someone.

He scoffed, “Help me? Now how would you do that?”

An amused smile played on his pretty lips, and you momentarily wondered how it would feel to kiss them. Promptly after that, you pinched yourself under the table to bring yourself back to reality. Thinking ridiculously wouldn’t do you any good.

“I listen to Taylor Swift,” you said solemnly as if it answered everything perfectly. “And she literally has a song called ‘How You Get the Girl, so if anyone could help it was her or me, and you’re not important enough to talk to T Swizzle before I do, so you’re just going to have to make do.”

Taeyong was a little concerned over how enthusiastic you seemed about assisting him in this. If you were so happy about him being interested in someone else then didn’t that mean that you weren’t interested in him? Now he hated the fact he had lied because it all seemed pointless. Saying no to you was not something he liked to do often, but it was also something he couldn’t do now or you would grow suspicious.

God damn it.

“Hello? Earth to Taeyong?” You snapped your fingers in front of his face, causing him to blink rapidly, eyes focusing back on you.

His eyes had always been intense to look into, dark and demanding, which is something he had always hated about them. Over the years he had tried his best to soften them since it was one of the reasons others found him intimidating as well.

To you, however, they were rather mesmerizing. You loved the way that everything around you would slowly fade away when he looked at you like that, especially when they were upturned into little crescents when he was happy.

“I’m sorry?”

“Yes or no?.”

“To….what?”

“To being your wingwoman,” You reiterated, feigning annoyance. This earned you yet another glare from the librarian, but you were much too invested in your best friend's business to care about it.

“I—,” He thought about arguing for just a minute, but it seemed that he deemed it worthless to do so with you. He knew how convincing you could be when you wanted to, and so he simply nodded in defeat. “Fine.”

(There were two idiots in this room. Dumb and dumber, and no one would ever know who was which.)

You straightened in your seat, plastering another smile on your face as you did so to convey your supposed joy over him letting you do this. He looked dubious but allowed a small smile of his own as he pushed the book that you were holding open in your hands closer to your face. To this, you almost dropped the book, managing to catch it just in time to avoid a scolding from the librarian, who definitely didn’t like the two of you very much anymore.

“Study,” he instructed, “Worry about my love life later.”

Little did he know that you were very much worrying about your own.

When you were little, your parents had been extremely strict about everything you did to instill a sense of discipline in you. You had to wake up at seven-thirty to get ready for school every day, and on the weekend, it was eight. At birthday parties you always had to ask them if you could have juice when someone offered, and after dinner, you were only ever allowed to eat one cookie if there were any.

One day, however, after finishing your obligatory cookie, you found yourself really wanting another. It was urgent, you absolutely had to sink your teeth into one more to appreciate its chocolatey goodness properly.

So you waited till your parents thought you were asleep to sneak out into the kitchen and take one. You had no regrets for that night only, because you were caught the next night itself when your mother found that there was one cookie less in the stack. When she asked you about it, you stoutly denied this accusation, which she definitely didn’t appreciate, and sat you down with your father so that the both of them could give you a talking to about honesty.

This had left a mark on you, and so you tended to be as honest as possible from that point onwards. Your first lie led to the end of that road you had just begun to traverse, making you the perfect child.

Which was exactly why you weren’t ashamed to admit that your first thought was to somehow sabotage Taeyong’s possible relationship with this girl he said he liked when you proposed to be of help.

You really had to learn how to lie again properly.

You thanked the barista that handed you the two coffees you had ordered, managing to make your way through the busy line that infested the Starbucks that morning. Only God knew why you still opted to go there before classes sometimes, and you intended to keep it that way because even Taeyong didn’t understand it.

At first, it was because you liked the aesthetic, then you started realizing that people yelling over each other, uncomfortable lines, and your name being misspelled for the nth time did not count as an aesthetic. Alas, you were in too deep now and your pride wouldn’t let you quit.

“Here,” You handed one of the drinks to Taeyong and he nodded in silent thanks, holding the top and taking a small sip. It was one of those days when both of you had early morning classes and caffeine was the only thing that was capable of giving you the will to live through them.

“You know this tastes like normal coffee right?”

“Don’t,” You warned, but you knew what would follow. This might have been his favorite argument to revisit with you.

“I could literally make this at my apartment and it would taste the same,” He pointed out, taking yet another sip as you started to walk, falling into step with you. You liked walking around with him because it felt so natural and simple.

“You keep saying that but you’ve never actually followed through with that claim,” Your shoes clicked on the pavement, joining the rest of the cacophony that made up the walk to eight a.m. classes. “So you either are shit at making coffee and lying to me or you’re lazy.”

“Well, now I definitely don’t want to.” You caught the indignant pout on his lips from the corner of your eyes.

“Aha, so he’s lazy,” You concluded, glancing to your side to properly look at him as you stopped to wait for the traffic to pass by on the street. “So? Have you ever spoken with her?”

Confusion took over his features and he frowned. “Her?”

“The girl you refuse to tell me anything about.”

Shit. He had forgotten about that entire ordeal, eyes widening at the mention. You watched him with expectant eyes and he cleared his throat, nodding non-committal.

“A few times, yeah,” He hummed, nodding forward to tell you that it was okay to cross now. You did that, mulling over this information and commemorating it with a big gulp of coffee, almost burning your tongue. You would definitely more caffeine to survive this conversation.

“And? You have to give me something to work with, dude.”

Taeyong had no idea where he was going with this. He supposed he deserved to be stuck in such a situation because he had gotten himself into it without thinking about how it would sustain such a lie. Sighing to himself, he started speaking.

“She’s….nice.” What an eloquent description he had gone for. Trying to describe a girl that didn’t exist was extraordinarily hard, and he wondered where his childhood imagination had disappeared to. Your blank expression told him that he was doing a terrible job at whatever he was trying to achieve.

Well, there was only one thing he could think to do.

“She ‘s fun to be around,” He started, “Speaking to her is incredibly easy and I enjoy our conversations. She’s really pretty too.” The corners of his lips curled up into a slight smile as he spoke about this supposed ‘girl’.

Stop.

You wanted him to stop the moment he started elaborating because it was becoming clearer and clearer that he truly cared for this person. You had caught the way his eyes softened just a little when he started speaking, and the fond tone his voice had taken. You knew it all too well because you had sat through him speaking like this when he had been with his previous girlfriends. It was as if he reserved a special place in his heart for the people he loved romantically and spoke about them in a specific way.

You would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about him speaking like that about you, but then again, you didn’t lie.

The university campus came into view and you knew that the both of you would have to part ways for your separate classes soon.

“Do you think she likes you back?”

He didn’t know how to answer that one, so he stopped for a moment and frowned in thought. You stopped as well, waiting for him. At times like these, you wished you could read his mind to figure out what went on in there. Normally you could read him like a book, and you knew everything about him, but when he would think really hard like this, it was like he put a mental block up that prevented you from doing what you normally did.

And then he started walking again as if you had never asked the question.

You stared in bewilderment as he walked in front, gaping and grumbling under your breath at being so blatantly ignored. Quickening your steps, you managed to catch up with him, panting a little now.

“Hey an answer would be lovely, you know!”

Taeyong stopped in front of the gate and shrugged. “I don’t know.”

He fucking what?

“You—you don’t know?” You spluttered, a little annoyed now. “You don’t know if she likes you even a little bit?”

He shrugged once more, a victimised look on his face as he kept his shoulders up. “She’s hard to read!”

You scoffed in disbelief. “Say’s you.”

He snapped his head towards you, noting the stiff way you said that. It was a little resentful as well like you were annoyed at him, and maybe it was warranted, especially with the answers he was giving you. He was trying to be as vague as possible while being honest, so he had told the truth. He truly couldn’t read you one bit, he definitely didn’t know if you liked him back, and right now the answer was leaning towards a big, fat NO.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

You shook your head, patting his arm. “I have class, see you later.”

You began walking away, and then turned around when you realized how childish you had just been. He looked like a confused puppy now, unable to keep up with your constant switch in the mood.

“Did I….do something?” He asked gently as he cocked his head to the side, and you felt totally undeserving. You shut your eyes and shook your head. You couldn’t keep taking your frustration over him liking someone else on him. It just wasn’t fair.

“No, you didn’t,” You sighed, “I’m having a weird day, thats all.”

He raised his hand to look at his watch and then back at you. “It’s eight in the morning, what day?”

Panic seized you and your eyes widened in horror at that news. “It’s already eight? Fuck, fuck, fuck-”

“Y/n?”

“I’m late for my class!” You whined, walking backward quickly and turning around, breaking into a run. “I’ll see you later! Next time we’ll work on asking her out!”

He scoffed, watching as you hurried into one of the buildings and vanished from his line of sight, biting back the smile that was threatening to spill over. It was a very special smile, one he only kept for you.

And with another sip of his coffee, he too turned around and walked away to his class. He would have to make some coffee for you sometime soon so you would stop wasting your money on Starbucks.

“Idiot,” he muttered affectionately, “Going to miss your class and you’re still talking about that.”

lesson #1: talking to the girl

“So she knows who you are right?”

You adjusted the volume of the music playing from the radio of his car, letting go of your chopsticks and letting them fall to the inside corner of the takeout box. Your classes for the day were finally over and just like you had promised, you were going to help him

He nodded, taking a mouthful of his own noodles. On nights like these when none of you felt like cooking, takeout was your saviour. Tonight’s dinner consisted of Chinese food from the nearby restaurant. The food itself was by no means authentic, but it was tasty nonetheless a quick fix.

“Have you flirted with her?” You let him think over your latest question while he finished his bite.

“I probably have?” He ended it like a question rather than a statement. “We talk quite a bit actually, but anything I say always seems to go over her head like she’s completely oblivious.”

Damn. You couldn’t even hide the sympathetic look on your face at that. The girl really didn’t know what she was missing out on if she was able to ignore him so easily. You almost wished you had that talent so you wouldn’t have to be simply the best friend.

“Sucks,” You muttered, “Maybe step it up a bit? Try and gauge if she’s actually interested in you the way you are for her so you can actually answer me the next time I ask.” You rolled your eyes at the memory of him saying he didn’t know. What person didn’t try to figure out if their crush liked them back?

“I’ll try my best,” He promised absentmindedly, shaking some of his hair out of his face. Then, he offered you some of his food, and you exchanged boxes naturally, like you had done this a million times before- because you had. There were certain things in your friendship that had become so routine that you did them without thinking.

“You’re hopeless,” You muttered, “It’s like you don’t actually even care about this girl when I give you advice on what to do, but then you wear your nice cologne for her.”

He raised his eyebrow in surprise. “How did you know it was the nice one?”

“I know you,” You clicked your tongue to look at him, causing a mischievous glint to spark in his eyes. You were almost afraid of the next words that were going to come out of his pretty lips.

“Nice to know you pay so much attention to me, sweetheart,” He teased, reaching out to give your box back. Heart curled up your neck and to your cheeks, painting them in a warm flush as you puffed them out and looked away from him.

“You’re so annoying.”

“Am I wrong though?”

You were still hung up on the nickname. It wasn’t the first time he had ever called you that, after all, your friendship was affectionate and extremely close, but that didn’t stop you from being affected by it. You were more used to words like ‘dumbass’ or ‘idiot’ spoken fondly to your face with a grin, just like you did for him. The ‘sweethearts’ and ‘loves’ were more teasing than anything, never serious.

“I pay attention to you because I’m your best friend,” You argued, placing the empty take-out box to the side. “If I don’t, who will?”

The laugh that escaped him at that was enchanting, and he scrunched his nose up for a moment, as if in thought. “I guess you’re right.”

“I’m always right.”

“Hah, could’ve fooled me.”

You reached over and pinched his forearm, eliciting a yelp due to the force at which you executed it. “You’re impossible. I don’t know why I still hang out with you.”

“It’s because I’m impossibly lovable,” He corrected you with a shit-eating grin, finishing up his own food. Then he dropped his voice just a little. “And because you have no friends.”

The sound of your hand slapping against his arm was enough to inform anybody how you reacted to that smart-ass statement of his. He loved pushing your buttons because you looked pretty even when your brows were knitted and your lips were set in an angry pout. He especially loved it when that expression was directed toward him.

“Just talk to her more,” You sighed, “I pity her to be honest, imagine having to deal with you. I’ll start praying for her right now.”

“Wow, real nice Y/n. You always know exactly how to hype me up.”

“I’m excellent at boosting a person's confidence. Wanna see?” You were looking at him in anticipation now like you were really proud of what you were going to say next and wanted him to match your energy. He pretended to be exasperated with you, exhaling slowly.

“Fine.”

You beamed at him, turning in the passenger seat to face him properly. “Jellyfish have survived 600,000 years without a brain.”

For once, he truly didn’t know where you were going with this and waited patiently. The way you were trying your best to keep a straight face was enough to tell him that it wasn’t going to be anything good.

“So I’m really optimistic about you.”

He grimaced. “Do me a favour and never become a motivational speaker. Ever.”

If you thought his laugh was enchanting, he thought yours was nothing short of angelic. The way your eyes would crease into little crescent moons and how you would cover your mouth with your hands as you giggled. It was a habit of yours, one that he had picked up on pretty quickly into the first few weeks of your friendship itself.

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry,” You weren’t sorry at all, not in the slightest. “But I’m serious, you have to talk to her more before you ask her out. The whole ‘instant ask out’ thing doesn’t really get you far. I’ve realized that being friends to an extent works best.”

“From what experience?” He snickered and you glared, holding back from giving the boy another pinch (or rather a shove this time around, which he wholly deserved for that backhand comment).

“Hey, I have dated around you know!” You protested, “And I’ve had a boyfriend before, so I know what I’m talking about.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“I’m serious!”

He twisted the keys in the ignition to start the car, amused at how eagerly you defended yourself. He had to give it to you though, you definitely sounded more credible than Doyoung did when he gave advice. After all, it was that said boy's advice that got him into this whole mess in the first place, with you being his wingwoman.

The world surely did love irony.

Doyoung was sick.

Not sick in the sense that he had to stay in bed and spend his day with a box of kleenex. That would have been much more bearable than having to be subjected to this madness.

He was looking on from afar as you and Taeyong spoke. He had been on his way to his next class, only to happen to catch a glimpse of his two best friends. Even though he was equally close to Taeyong and you, he more often than not felt like a third wheel in your relationship.

So yes, he was sick of seeing the two of you tip-toe around each other.

He had never seen two people more perfect for each other, and definitely not two who were so damn oblivious about it. Someone could dangle it right in front of your eyes and you would purposefully turn the other way and walk in the other direction.

The first time Taeyong had come to Doyoung all panicked was around a year ago when he had miraculously realized that he was in love with his best friend. Doyoung remembered this well because he had never been caught so off guard before at such a confession. Or so he thought.

Because around a week later, you came to him, whining about your feelings for Taeyong.

Fucking dumbasses.

You were so in tune with each other that you just happened to go to the same person for advice- the person who had yet to be in any relationships himself. Hey, the life of a STEM major was hard and Doyoung didn’t particularly want to waste any of the ridiculously high tuition he had paid. You had once teased him about being married to his studies, and at this point, he couldn’t even deny it.

Now you were pushing some of Taeyong’s hair out of his face, a deadpan look on yours. Doyoung could see the slight alarm on the other boy's face at this action, the way he stared intently at you as you did it. Then you flicked his forehead and laughed, causing him to puff out his pink cheeks.

Lord, give him strength. The sooner the two of you got together, the better.

lesson #2: how to ask a girl out

Taeyong thought you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, from the slope of your nose to the crease of your eyes when you laughed, even if you did cover up your mouth when you laughed most of the time. He liked your smile too, the way the corners of your lips would turn upwards in glee was enough to get him to smile as well.

Even now, when you were staring at him like he had murdered your childhood dog, he thought you looked pretty.

“You’re telling me that you’ve never considered asking this girl out?!” You asked incredulously, hands resting on your hips. “At this point, I’m starting to think the person you like is Doyoung.”

He scowled at you, “It is not Doyoung, and of course, I’ve thought of asking her out, it’s just-” He paused, realizing he didn’t exactly know what to say. You raised an eyebrow, prompting him to continue.

So here was the problem.

Taeyong was starting to get a little tired of talking about this make-believe girl with you. It was slowly eating away at him, the fact that he was basically lying to your face at this point. Sure, there was some truth mixed in somewhere, but that very truth was getting buried deeper and deeper as time went on.

“It’s just?” You asked, giving him another helpful nudge to finish that statement, but he didn’t, sighing instead as he leaned back in the chair he was sitting on. Your persistence was going to be the death of him one day.

“We were working on your project a second ago, why are you bringing this up now?”

“Because!” You stressed the word, “It’s been around two weeks since you told me you started talking to her again, so I mean, isn’t it the appropriate time to ask her out?”

You sat up straight, closing your laptop and books, “Also I’m tired of this, so do you wanna watch a movie and order in? We can continue talking about this later.” You picked your phone up and sighed. “Ji-woo never answers.”

He frowned, “She’s still not responding to your messages? Damn. You really do need my help.”

“I do,” You whined, sighing in resignment as you once again slumped in your seat. Today was one of those days when you were all over the place, jumping from one topic to another. This happened sometimes, and he was used to it after being your friend for so long.

“Fine, let's take a break, I’ll choose the movie and you go order some pizza for us.” He didn’t exactly need the break, but he could tell from the way your eyes were drooping slightly and how quickly you had slouched again. He knew you so well that he could tell when you were done for the day. Chances were that you would probably fall asleep midway through whatever movie he chose anyways, so he picked one that you had watched previously, good enough to entertain the both of you till sleep took over you.

After placing the order, you moved to the couch where he was sitting now, browsing through the movies. You propped your legs up, grabbing a cushion and curling into his side like it was the most natural thing to do. He settled on 13 going on 30, one of your shared favorite movies from the 2000s.

As the movie began, he couldn’t help but notice how perfectly you fit into him, how your head rested gently on his shoulder as your eyes remained trained on the television screen. The blue light from it fell onto your face, casting shadows over your features.

“So? Are you going to ask her out?”

He pursed his lips, suppressing yet another groan at your words. He knew you meant well, wanting to help and all, but the truth was complicated. The truth was messy and the truth…..

“Nah.”

“Huh? Why? You said you have thought about it before.” Ever since this entire thing started, he had been getting harder and harder to figure out.

He had spoken nothing but the truth because he really wasn’t going to ask you out, and this was a decision he had thought well and hard about. There were many factors that went into it- you were his best friend after all. If you didn’t feel the same way not only would he be crushed, but it would be awkward. That awkwardness would probably lead to drifting apart from you and that was something he never wanted to happen.

He loved being there for you, listening to your whine about your latest grievance, or nagging you about your terrible addiction to caffeine. You had the habit of keeping things to yourself, so he loved when you indulged that information to him just as much as he loved you.

He couldn’t lose you. That would be far worse than you not loving him the way he loved you. Losing you would mean not being able to love you at all, not even quietly.

“I don’t think I’m good enough for her,” he said quietly, “I mean, just because we’re talking doesn’t mean she likes me that way, for all I know she could totally hate the person I am.” He forced a cheery voice to communicate the fact that he was joking, but not entirely. The smile that he wore was tired and weary like he genuinely didn’t think he was enough.

You didn’t like it.

You knew it was in his nature to be hard on himself, he had been doing the same since freshman year. If things went wrong he would blame himself. If anyone was there to criticize, he saw it as himself.

“Stop it,” You chided, moving away from him and glaring, much to his surprise. Your brow was knit in frustration as you reached out and took his face in your hands, cradling it gently enough so that he was looking at you.

“You listen to me,” You said firmly, voice dead serious. “You, Lee Taeyong, are absolutely fucking amazing, and I don’t want to hear you ever put yourself down again.”

You were angry, he could hear it in your voice. From sleepy to annoyed, the change in your demeanor had him blinking in silence for he was much too surprised to do anything else.

“You’re perfect,” You said so earnestly that it was a little amusing. “And whoever she is would be a goddamn fool if she doesn’t realize that because any girl would be the luckiest fucking girl in the world to have you.”

Unbeknownst to him, there was some jealously mixed into it as well. One of your flaws was that you often let your envy seep into things you did and as much as you wanted to help Taeyong as the great friend you were, it killed you to see that he was so much into someone else but thought he wasn’t good enough for them. That was utter bullshit, and you were going to make sure he knew that.

You would have done anything to be that her.

“Y/n…” He whispered your name softly, trailing off into silence instead of continuing the sentence. The dialogue from the movie was the only thing that could be heard for the next minute or so, and you let go of his face, clearing your throat.

“Got it?”

“Yes ma’am,” He mumbled, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize? You did nothing wrong,” You huffed, retreating to your previous position. You weren’t quite sure what had possessed you to do that, but you had a feeling it was something he needed to hear. “Ask her out, and if she says no, her loss.”

You were stupid. So painfully stupid.

“Thank you,” he simpered, nudging you slightly. You only hummed in reply, muttering something about your insistence on being good at hyping people up. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Die. You would die.” You offered helpfully, and he snorted but didn’t deny it, instead once again glancing over at you to catch a glimpse of your face. Yeah, he really did think you were the most beautiful person he had ever seen, even in the crappy dim lighting of your living room right now.

“I would walk through fire for you,” He mumbled, “Thats how much I appreciate you.”

The giggle he earned for that was fucking dizzying, and he was tempted to repeat the statement just to hear it again. “Yeah?” “Yeah,” He confirmed, before thinking about that for a minute. “Okay, maybe not fire because I’m too young and hot to die. A really hot and humid room perhaps.”

You gave him an unimpressed look.

“Not too humid because of my hair.”

The pillow you were cuddling before quickly turned into a weapon to hit him with for his dumb quips, making him hold his arms up to shield himself. He was smiling though, silently laughing as he yelped at every hit you landed.

“Your hair is already dead from the amount that you dye it,” You deadpanned, reaching up and running your fingers threw the front stranger, pushing it out of his face like you so often did. His breath hitched in his throat as you then fixed it again. His eyes fell to your lips just for a moment as you were focused on his hair.

He wanted to kiss you so bad, just like the many other times he had thought about it and backed out. The factors he had mentioned before were what he used to justify his chickening out every time.

“Yep, it’s fried,” You said, snapping him out of it. Pushing your hand away, he signaled towards the movie that was still playing, redirecting your attention away from his warm face.

“A moderately heated room it is.”

Now that you had given him the push to ask out the girl he wanted, you were somewhat anxious to know how that had ended. Had he finally gone for it? Had it worked out? More importantly, were you going to have to self-sabotage once again?

Top ten questions science couldn’t answer.

This time you found yourself at a different coffee shop rather than the overpriced one you usually visited due to the fact that your friend, Karina, worked there as a barista. Unfortunately, visiting your friend wasn’t the only reason you decided to go there today.

Ji-woo sat across from you, a nervous smile on her face. She was cute, with straight long hair till her elbows, fringe across the forehead, and eyes that were always bright and expressive. It was because of these expressive eyes of hers that she ended up always being a fairly open book to read.

And right now, that book was full of excuses.

“I’m so sorry Y/n! I swear I didn’t mean to miss your messages.” Her words tumble from her lips absolutely covered in honey- scratch that- sugar syrup. They were so sweet and patronizing that they were going to give you diabetes.

“All of them? It’s been a whole two weeks Ji-woo, and I’ve messaged you regularly throughout all of it to ensure you were doing your bit of the project.” It was clear that you didn’t believe a single word that exited her lip-gloss-painted mouth, and she was stressed over it.

People like her were why you were addicted to coffee. Hey, at least you weren’t as bad as Jaemin, the guy practically drowned all his sorrows in the bitter drink.

“I know—”

“You do?” You asked, pretending to be surprised. “Then why didn’t you answer those texts?”

Needless to say, you were not amused with being ignored, especially not when you had been working your ass off to get a good grade on this project. It was an important one, and you’d be damned if you didn’t do well just because of your partner who prioritized partying more than doing her work. There was nothing wrong with partying of course, but there was everything wrong with leaving your partner alone to do all the work while you rode off it scot-free.

You were mad. You had every right to be and Ji-woo knew it from the way she played nervously with the straw in her iced caramel macchiato.

“I—I promise to do whatever you give me to make up for it!” She bargained, a hopeful smile on her face. “I really am sorry Y/n.”

You definitely did not miss the way she completely evaded your question but decided to let it go. Exhaling, you collected every scrap of willpower you possessed before you started speaking so you wouldn’t snap at her.

“Fine,” you sighed, deciding to graciously give her another chance, much to her relief. “Handle half of the slides and make some notes. I’ve already most of everything anyway so this is all you have to do.”

“Yes! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“I expect you to have it done a week before our presentation, okay? Start working on it today itself.”

She pauses, pressing her lips together. “I’m busy today but I could start tom- never mind, I’ll do it right away.” She shut up after catching the near-fatal glare you were giving her, collecting her things and drink, getting up and bidding you farewell.

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you sighed in exasperation. Karina noticed your distress and walked over and a fresh cup of coffee, placing it down next to your now lukewarm one.

“You look like you’ve been through shit,” She said dryly, tucking the empty tray under her arm vertically. You scoffed, eyeing the new cup, all too tempted.

“I didn’t order another.”

“I know, it’s on the house,” She winked, shifting her weight from one leg to the other. “You looked like you were suffering and my mother always taught me to have pity on the less fortunate.”

“I don’t know if I should thank you or give you a shove.”

She pat your shoulder in faux sympathy. “Both. Both are good. Also, your boyfriend is waiting for you.”

“My who?” You gave her a puzzled look because you were very much- in the words of Na Jaemin himself- painfully single. Karina had a mischievous look on her face as she pointed to the side of the store where Taeyong stood, holding his own cup of coffee. When he realized you had seen him, a lopsided grin plants itself on his mouth and he waved.

“Rina, that is not my boyfriend. I don’t have a boyfriend and even if I did, it definitely wouldn’t be Taeyong.” You mumbled softly, waving back. Then you beckon at him to come to join you at your table.

“Yeah right, but you wouldn’t complain if he was.”

You were a hundred percent ready to argue back, but Taeyong was close, and saying anything further would give you away, which you definitely didn’t want to happen. Instead, you settled for glaring at her as she slipped away while Taeyong took a seat opposite you.

“Hey! Oh geez, who stole your candy?” It was then you realized you were still wearing a disgruntled look on your face and shook your head.

“Sorry, I just met with my lovely partner.”

“Seriously? What were her excuses?”

This was why he was your best friend, he somehow knew things without you having to tell him anything at all. All you had to do was fill him in on the details. The two of you were just so in sync that you worked perfectly in every way.

You were definitely grateful for the new cup of coffee Karina had gotten you since your old one was almost over and now cold. As the drink kissed your throat soothingly, you remembered the question you had been dying to know the answers to.

“Did you ask her on a date?”

Taeyong was mid-sip when you asked the question, glancing up at you as he did so. He nodded.

Oh.

“.....Well?”

“Well, what?”

“She said yes, didn’t she?” You asked, forcing a gleeful tone. Taeyong stared at you in bafflement, probably at how you had deciphered that so quickly as you down the rest of your coffee, resting your elbows on the table and chin in your palms. “I’ll help you get ready for the date.”

In actuality, Taeyong was panicking. His initial plan was to just say that this hypothetical girl said no to him, but you had already jumped to conclusions and looked so excited about it that he didn’t want to rain down on your parade.

The indifference on his face made you sit up straight, a triumphant grin on your face. You see, Taeyong had the habit of pretending something hadn’t gone his way to fool you before he gave you the correct information, and this was no doubt one of those times.

“Oh it’ll be fun- just tell me what type of date you’re taking her on and I’ll style you.” You clapped your hands together, and your best friend had no idea how to tell you that you were extremely wrong.

Whatever god was out there was probably laughing at him, clutching their stomach and all.

So! New plan. He was going to just go with the flow, fake going on a date, and then somewhere down the road say he broke it off with this girl. It would be fine.

Taeyongs fatal flaw would always be his inability to say no to you. It was the reason you ended up being his wingwoman, he knew this- no matter how much he tried putting the blame on Doyoung (who would call him an idiot and a simp for being so easily swayed by you every damn time. Taeyong would have to agree).

“Dinner maybe?” He asked, suddenly forgetting everything he ever knew about dates. This was so stupid, he had been on a plethora of dates before, and he had had girlfriends. He knew what to do and how to do it but when it came to you, all of that knowledge he had built up over the years seemed to disappear inexplicably.

You nodded appreciatively at this suggestion, pushing the empty mug to the side. “Nice, somewhere fancy maybe? I heard that the new restaurant is pretty good.”

The devil on your shoulder was pulling at your hair for being such a professional idiot and genuinely helping him. The angel was proud, perplexed at the way you were going on about it- yes- but proud nevertheless.

“I guess I’ll be taking her there then,” He said, sucking in a breath and giving you a tight-lipped smile. “Thanks for all the help Y/n, I mean it. Even if I’m a little scared to see how you’re going to…style me.”

You threw him a look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You don’t really have the best fashion taste.”

You scoffed, offended that he would ever dare utter something so outlandish right to your face. “Excuse you, just because I don’t have the perfect clothing pieces does not mean I have bad style. I got the skill, just not the materials because they’re expensive and I live off ramen as it is.”

“You have no proof and therefore, due to my deeply inlaid trust issues, I cannot take your word for it.” He said this as solemnly as he possibly could, nodding his head slowly and swiftly pinching his lips to avoid laughing.

Lee Taeyong was the worst tier of insufferable.“Screw you.”

“Time and place.”

“Someday, you’ll go far—” You started wisely, “and I hope you stay there.”

“Rude? I should have never bought you that coffee.” He said in disbelief, bringing his hand to his heart as he got to his feet so that he could leave. You frowned in confusion even though his voice held a playful lilt because something there didn’t add up.

“You got it for me? Karina said it was on the house I- KARINA!?”

lesson #3: the date

Taeyong was what you would call fashionably challenged.

The reason you said this was because while his style was good, it had two sides. On one hand, he dressed well, like the twenty-one-year-old he was. It didn’t really matter, you supposed, because Taeyong looked good in almost everything he wore.

Ah but you see, he had range. He could go from that to grandma-core in a blink of an eye. And while it was certainly a look, it wasn’t date-worthy at all.

God knows you weren’t going to let him show up in that quirky knitted sweater he had gotten at a random festival. You would rather eat your fist.

“Let’s see,” You hummed, running your fingers over his clothes. You were standing in front of his closet, mentally trying to sort out what items of clothing would work well with each other. You had been there many times before, but those instances usually ended with you nabbing a hoodie or t-shirt you had taken a liking to and was going to claim as your own.

Looking through your own closet didn’t look much different at this point.

He had been through two outfits at this point and was confused beyond compare at this point. Never had he ever taken so much effort for a date, let alone for one that was completely fake, so he had no experience with this whole ‘pre-date drama’, as you had oh so eloquently put it.

The first outfit had been cute, but a little too casual for a dinner date at a potentially fancy restaurant. The tee paired with jeans was a classic combo, but it more suited going to his Monday morning lectures.

The second outfit was too formal, the dress shirt and dress pants screamed prom and while you had full faith in Taeyongs abilities to win Prom King, that wasn’t the vibe you were going for either.

“Here,” You thrust another set of clothes to him. “Go change into these and let’s see how they look.”

He nodded, taking the clothing from you and going to change. While he did that, you plopped yourself on his bed, taking your phone out and scrolling through Instagram to amuse yourself in the time he took. He had started out pretty talkative, but you supposed after all the fussing you had done over him till this point had dulled him down a little.

You looked up when he walked back out, adjusting the sleeves and folding them up a little- just to his elbow to uncover his forearms. The shirt itself leaned more on the formal lines, dark blue in colour, collar kissing his collar bones perfectly, and the top few buttons left unbuttoned on purpose. The end of the shirt was tucked into his jeans that were ripped at the knees.

Your eyes remained trained on his figure, widening ever so slightly as you did a full-body scan of the entire outfit. Was this you blatantly checking your best friend out under the guise of judging the appropriateness of what he was wearing? Absolutely.

Were you even slightly ashamed? Not really. Hey, a girl has got to be proactive, especially when she was in love with the guy who was going on a date with another girl right at that moment.

Your lips parted in surprise as you sat up. With the way you had styled his hair before (and of course, the fact that Taeyong was attractive anyway), you couldn’t even think of any way else to describe him.

Other than, of course, saying that your best friend was hot as hell.

“So?” He asked, looking at you expectantly., awaiting your conclusion. You swallowed thickly, trying to think of the words to say.

“You look….wow,” You settled for finally, cringing at yourself when you heard it leave your tongue.

Bemused, he shook some of the hair that had fallen into his face out of it, cocking his head to the side in the process. “Wow? What an articulate observation from the English Lit. major.”

He was teasing you now, and you rolled your eyes, getting to your feet and walking over when you realized a part of his collar was a bit messed up on one side. His breath hitched in his throat when you were close enough, reaching your hand up and folding it over in the manner it was supposed to be.

“It was a good wow,” You defended, flickering your eyes up to his. He was already looking at you, and the attention had you feeling a little dizzy. “And I’m better than you, Mr. I exchanged the word assonance for alliteration.”

“I’m not the English major here though.”

You yanked a little on his collar to get him to shut up, and he did so promptly, but not without letting a dumb smile settle on his lips. Arguing with you would forever be one of his favorite past times and he would never give up the chance to do so.

“Alright,” You mumbled, taking a step back and admiring your handiwork. “You’re all set to go.”

“Where?” He breathed out, still looking at you in that maddening way. He was so distracted by you that he had completely forgotten what he was doing at that moment

“Your date, you idiot,” You pushed his shoulder, snapping him out of his daze.

The date. Yes.

He coughed slightly, nodding as he got his things, ready to leave. “Right. Thanks for…you know.”

“Any time,” You said, flashing him an assuring look. “Now go get your girl.”

He left a few minutes, later and you watched him do so, the smile on your face fading little by little with every second that passed. When you heard the door of his apartment click shut, you finally dropped the cheery look on your face, all sobered up.

You wondered how Taeyong would be on a date. He was confident, it was one of his most attractive features and you knew that he had this quality about him that had everyone charmed. He would be the sweetest on a date, no doubt, making sure his date was comfortable above everything else.

You almost wished that date was for you.

Irony was quickly becoming one of Taeyong’s least favorite things.

On approaching his car, he opened the door and placed himself in the driver's seat, letting out a sigh. He didn’t start the car, nor did he even switch the radio on. All he did was take his phone out and open Tiktok.

Ah yes, what an excellent date.

The consequences of lying about having a date meant that he had to go through the entire pre-date drama he had mentioned before, without actually going anywhere. It was why he now had two whole hours to kill without a single thing to do. His fancy ‘date’ consisted of scrolling through random people enthusiastically dancing to Lizzo’s About Damn Time and some dude whose money didn’t jiggle. Instead, it folded.

It was just as depressing as it sounded.

Good for the guy honestly, sounded like he was financially stable.

Taeyong wondered how his life had come to this. He ran a hand through his hair, successfully messing up the way you had carefully helped style it in the process. There were very few moments in his life when he had felt truly like an idiot, and this instance, in particular, took the first spot, dethroning whatever held that position before it.

The car was warm. He switched the air conditioning on and resumed watching the thirty-second video clips that were the reason his attention span had degraded so much.

He figured he deserved this, considering all he had done the past few weeks was lie to your face. Granted, the lies came from a place of protection- protecting himself from potentially getting rejected and protecting you from being disappointed about not being able to be his wingwoman.

But they had evolved from him simply omitting the truth by not being honest about how he felt to getting dressed in a really nice outfit with nowhere to go but two whole hours to kill in his car. It had him thinking over his life decisions, and anything that had him going all existential was immediately a bad thing.

This was definitely a downgrade. From actually going on dates and having girlfriends to faking dating someone because he was hopefully taken with you. He remembered the first time he realized was when you made the joke about getting married if the two of you were still single by the age of thirty-two and not being opposed to the idea. In fact, he rather liked the sound of it.

It was all downhill from there, and even though he considered it as such, he still smiled at the thought.

Two mind-numbingly boring hours later and another Tiktok sound that would be inevitably stuck in his head for the next two weeks minimum, he decided it was now acceptable to go back to his apartment.

When he was younger, his parents had always been proud of how responsible he had been, how he barely ever wasted time.

Oh if they could see him now. One hundred and twenty minutes of his life he was never going to get back.

He slid his keys into the lock, twisting them and pushing the door open. His apartment was quiet, and he wondered if you had gone back to your own as he slipped his shoes off. He unbuttoned another button on his shirt and walked into his bedroom, freezing when he saw the sight that lay before him.

You were asleep in what he could only describe as the most uncomfortable position known to humankind. You were still sort of sitting, curled over his pillows that were propped against the headboard, one hand held out as you held your phone weakly. It was just about to slip out of your fingers and hit the ground, but he managed to walk over in time to lunge over and catch it.

Taeyong scoffed, but the ghost of a smile played on his lips as he placed your phone on the little bedside table. He knew all too well that you would complain to no end when you woke up after sleeping like that, and so he carefully picked you up and adjusted your position, before tucking you under the sheets.

His heart was fighting its way out of his chest the more he looked at you. You were so peaceful as you slept, if you were awake he would have made a joke about it. Now, however, you were knocked out, and for once he didn’t have to lie. He didn’t have to pretend.

Leaning forward, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, mumbling a goodnight as he switched the lights off.

He’d whisper his confessions into the dark, where they would stay.

You were going to tear your hair out.

It had been more than a week since you met up with her to talk, and Ji-woo hadn’t done even a thing from the lot she had promised. You were tired from all your classes and the extra guest- lecture you had attended. Not to mention the fact that midterms were coming up and you had to spend time finishing other assignments for other classes along with your general studies.

You were exhausted beyond compare and couldn’t even bear the thought of having to do her work as well. It was already two a.m and you were so damn close to breaking down- ugly tears and all- as you stared at your laptop screen and at the unfinished slides. So you did the one thing you could think of and called the person you knew would have your back, whether that was to help or assist in your breakdown.

“Y/n?” Taeyong’s groggy voice sounded through your phone speaker and you let out a sound that could only be compared to a wail in response to properly convey how you were feeling. You could imagine him sitting up in his bed and rubbing his eyes.

“The fuck? It’s ass o’clock in the morning, why are you calling me?”

“I’m screwed,” You whined, kicking your feet childishly under the table you sat at for effect though you knew he couldn’t see it. “Ji-woo, and pardon my french but that bitch hasn’t done anything and I’m so close to dropping out I-”

“Why are you awake right now?” His question cut through your complaining, causing you to shut up and frown.

“Did you not hear me? I’m going to fail because of this girl, Tae, that’s why I’m awake.”

“Go to sleep,” He groaned, “You’ll definitely fail if you don’t sleep enough.”

“Wow, thanks.”

You could hear some shuffling in the background, and you assumed he had put his phone down for a moment. Then, you heard him speak again.

“Be there in five.”

You blinked, not really knowing to respond to that, but it was all okay since he ended the call right then. You had called him to vent, that was it.

Needless to say, Taeyong was at your door a few minutes later in his sweats and a jacket to combat the chilly night air, giving you the most murderous look he could muster up. Those eyes of his really did it justice.

“You disturbed my beauty sleep.”

You don’t need it anyway, you thought. “I didn’t expect you to come over?!? Don’t blame this on me.”

“Oh please,” He glared, but it wasn’t serious in the slightest as he sauntered inside. “You called me in the middle of the night, and I’ve been your best friend long enough to know what that means. Are you telling me you didn’t want me to be here in the slightest?”

You could only give him a sheepish smile because it was 100% true. Then, your smile melted into a look of disgruntlement as you led him to the table in your living room, collapsing on one of the chairs while you gestured wildly to the blank slides.

“Nothing, nada, I’m going to fail.”

He sighed, joining you in your task of staring down the unfinished work. Not that was much to stare at, but he definitely pitied you for somehow landing the worst project partner of the year.

He could also tell how tired you were from just one look at you and how there was no way you would be able to get anything done like this. Slipping his jacket off, he hung it on the back of one of the chairs around the table and clapped his hands together. “Alright, we can do this, but first I need to know where you keep your kettle because you keep stress cleaning and reorganizing the kitchen.”

You looked at him, puzzled. “Huh? Why would you need that?”

“Because,” he walked into the kitchen, leaving you with no choice but to trail after him. “I’m making your coffee, there is no way in hell I’m helping you without some and you look like crap right now.”

You almost missed the dig at you, too surprised at the fact he was actually making your coffee. It had been a running joke that he never would because he was terrible at doing so, which was why you kept running to Starbucks.

“First of all, ouch.” You glared at him, taking your kettle down from one of the cupboards. “And secondly, are you really?”

“Yep,” he confirmed, finding the coffee beans by himself and taking the appliance from you, placing it on the fire. “After a cup, you’ll have all the motivation in the world.”

“I sure hope so,” you chirped, leaning against the counter. “God, I can’t believe she didn’t do it this time. She said she would.”

“You trust too easily,” He muttered, mostly to himself. The gravity of the situation had started to eat away at him more than before and he was guilty. You trusted every word that came out of his mouth and he just kept lying. He told you he had been going on more dates with the girl to make it more believable, you were overjoyed and told him to ask her to be his girlfriend.

It was all going wrong. All he had wanted to do was impress you that day.

“Maybe so,” you agreed quietly, pushing yourself off the counter. He poured the coffee into two cups that you got down wordlessly, the both of you working together perfectly even without any words being said.

Taeyong handed you a cup, and you wrapped your fingers around it to absorb the warmth, taking a cautionary sip so as to not burn your tongue. The bitter drink washed over your tongue and you savoured the flavour. It revitalized you, giving you back some of the energy you had lost.

“Holy shit,” You said in quiet awe, “This coffee fucking slaps.”

He chuckled in amusement, happy to have proven himself right. Even more so, he was happy to see you happy over something as minute as him making you some coffee. “I know,” He said smugly, “Come on, let’s get back to working on your project.”

You stopped, realizing how much you depended on Taeyong. Without him, you would have probably been throwing a tantrum right now, throwing stuff around your apartment and all. Within a short period of time, he had managed to put you together again.

“Yeah sounds good.” You murmured, warming your hands on the mug. He sighed, pointing the spoon he used to mix the coffee in your direction with a strict look on his face

“And you have got to stop staying up this late, you’re going to fall sick, and then I’ll have to stay over and take care of you.” He pretended to look as displeased as possible with that hypothetical situation. “Honestly, I’m at a loss for words with how bad your sleep schedule is.”

Despite being at a loss for words, he continued to lecture you.

You put the cup down and moved towards him, wrapping your arms around him and tucking your face in the crook of his neck. The hug caught him off guard, but he returned it almost immediately, his own arms around your frame and lips pressing a soft kiss into your hair as if he could sense you needed the comfort.

“Thank you,” you whispered, shutting your eyes and pretending for a moment. Every day you had to remind yourself that there was someone else he was interested in because of things like these. He assured you with the usual ‘don’t mention it’ and whatnot, but you weren’t paying attention.

Just a moment.

final lesson: how to ask her to be your girlfriend

“I can’t believe you still haven’t told me who she is,” you said incredulously. “This might be the longest you’ve ever kept a secret from me, so maybe if you would just-”

“I’m not telling you.” He seemed adamant about keeping it a secret and part of you were starting to wonder if you were ever going to meet this girl. You exhaled in exasperation, throwing your hands up in defeat.

“It would be a lot easier to help you with asking her to be your girlfriend if I knew who she was, you know?”

But you knew better than to try and convince your best friend of something he had already made his mind up about. You were never going to get that girl’s name from his lips, so this entire thing was for naught. Besides, there was no point in competing with someone you didn’t know when it already looked like you had lost.

You really didn’t understand how you were supposed to help him make this ‘thing’ he had with her official when you knew next to nothing about her. If you had even a little information, you could put something meaningful together,

“Just seduce her into being your girlfriend.” You offered helpfully, not really having anything else to add. He gave you a deadpan look.

“Y/n, I am about as seductive as a cabbage.”

You snickered at that, somewhat agreeing with him. You were at his place, sitting opposite him on the couch with your legs criss-cross-applesauce. He mirrored your position, one hand propped up on the back of the couch. It was around this point in time when you were really starting to despise the wingwoman position you had landed yourself in because you couldn’t find a way out no matter how hard you tried.

Unfortunately, you had no one to blame but yourself for this predicament.

“I guess you’re screwed then.”

“Helpful,” He muttered dryly, shutting his eyes and leaning back properly. You would never understand his reluctance towards the topic.

“Hell no, you have a girlfriend to get.” You sat up and hummed, “Just be honest about what you feel for her and tell her. People always want to know what they mean to others, and if you tell her how much you appreciate her she’ll realize that you’re perfect for her.”

“But saying shit like that without messing it up is hard, and messing up in the middle would be embarrassing.” Taeyong pointed out, jutting his lower lip out in thought. He ran a hand through his hair- a habit of his- messing up the strands that somehow always looked good no matter what he did. They always fell back in place perfectly.

“Then you need to practice,” You said firmly, “Ever tried the mirror technique?”

“Mirror….technique?”

You started explaining what you meant by that. “You know when you practice what you’re going to say in front of a mirror, as you would when rehearsing for a part in a play?” He hummed at this.

“I haven’t tried that, actually.” He admitted, “I don’t think I’d be able to be serious about it.”

A solution to this sprung to your mind, but it was a selfish one. It was selfish because it was more due to the fact that you wanted to hear what he had to say for yourself than to actually help him in knowing what to say to make things official with this girl. Hey, what he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him, right?

“Just try it on me.”

Taeyong’s eyes widened slightly, lips parting in shock at your proposition. You quickly scrambled to elaborate on what you meant by that so there were no misunderstandings.

“I mean— just pretend I’m her! Pretend I’m her and say what you want to me and I can judge it for you.” You coughed, trying to rid yourself of the strain that had suddenly caught onto your voice. “Maybe it would be more helpful than talking to a mirror.”

He stared at you for a second, digesting this information before nodding slowly. He adjusted his position and pressed his lips together in thought, recollecting everything he wanted to say. It was an opportunity to test out what he had ever wanted to say to you without actually going out and admitting it.

The best-case scenario was the only thing he had to consider over here. There were no consequences, no backlashes, just an experience that he was much too cowardly to claim for real.

“We’ve been going out for a few weeks now.” He started slow, deciding to just go where his words took him. “And—”

Update; his words then failed him.

You see, it was the way you were looking at him, so focused and determined to listen to every word. It reminded him of the fact that he didn’t actually have anything to say because he had pretty much told himself that he would never be in this position. His mouth went dry and he had to swallow thickly.

It was getting easier to lie to you, little by little the white lies piled up on top of each other and disillusioned his sight. However, for some reason, right now no lies sprung forth. So he did the only thing he could think of.

He chose the truth. Sort of.

“You make me really happy,” he said, voice dropping in volume a little bit. That fond tone you had always envied for others slipped into it and the sides of his lips curled upwards slightly into the smallest boyish smile. “I love spending time with you because you make me feel like those moments could last forever. I love seeing you happy, but more so when you’re sad because then I can be the one to cheer you up.”

Your heart had a mind of its own, dancing violently in your chest at the way he spoke. It was a cruel joke that the world played on you, for you to be selfish enough to want to hear this, but so selfish that it hurt.

You couldn’t even look away, bound to your duty of listening to every word that left his honeyed lips. Words that weren’t meant for you and never would be, because you were the best friend. You had always been and forever would be just the best friend.

“I love your frowns and your smiles,” he continued, “And I want to be there for each and every one of those, so that’s why I’m asking.”

He sucked in a deep breath. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

Yes.

No. You had very conveniently forgotten how to breathe at that very moment, air getting caught up in your lungs and throat. His eyes dropped down to your lips, making you want to lean over and perhaps press them against his own. Then you wanted to run far away and hide because the prospect of ever being able to kiss Taeyong on the mouth had you feeling so fucking dizzy-

“Y/n.”

Did he—

Did he fucking end his little speech with your name?

It served as a reminder, bringing you back to reality without even a semblance of mercy. One would think that him using your name there would only further your thoughts, but no. They dragged you back and rooted you to the ground from the clouds you had been previously walking upon.

Because you simply were not meant for that.

You blinked rapidly, sucking in a breath of air to calm yourself down. It was then that Taeyong realized his slip up of saying your name, alarmed at what he had done, and racked his brain on how to fix it.

“I used your name because I can’t tell you who she is,” He said all too quickly, cheeks flushed pink. Heat crept up your neck and to your own face, leaving it hot and flustered.

“Yeah, I gathered as much,” You said, clearing your throat because it seemed like your voice had gotten stuck. “That—that was good. Really good. She’ll definitely say yes.”

(You knew you would.)

When you start to mix the truth with lies, it gets harder to distinguish the two from each other.

Taeyong told you that the ‘girl’ had agreed to be his girlfriend in the end, every deceitful letter becoming easier to pronounce as time went on. That didn’t mean that he liked it any better, of course not. He hated that he had to continually lie to you, he hated the bitter taste it left on his tongue.

The guilt seeped in like poison, tainting everything. He started to use his ‘girlfriend’ as an excuse to avoid meeting up, saying something about having a date, or spending the day with her. Distancing himself from you to avoid feeling bad about it, and then proceeding to feel like a terrible friend for doing so.

Third ring of hell, party of one.

The cycle was one that was going to be hard to break, and the problem was that he had no idea where to start making a crack.

From seeing each other almost daily to maybe once a week if you were lucky, you missed your best friend. It was only natural to miss the person you loved, but it wasn’t just that anymore. You missed the Taeyong that was your rock, the person who agreed to grocery shop with you at three a.m, the best friend that you knew would respond to all your texts within seconds.

But you understood. You forced yourself to understand and come to terms with the fact that while you were his best friend, he had a girlfriend now- a girlfriend he was very clearly head over heels for. You would just have to learn how to deal with only seeing him occasionally. You would have to relearn how to be just a friend.

That was the funny thing about love, one would find themselves doing absolutely anything for the person they had feelings for. It didn’t matter if it hurt them, as long as the other was happy, it would be okay.

You finished 13 going on 30 by yourself on a lonely night, without the company of your best friend. You watched as Jenna finally realize that Matty was the one that was for her, and how she run after him. You watched her get heartbroken and rejected and go back to being thirteen. You watch as she marries Matty when she really was thirty. Two best friends, in love.

This time around, you didn’t fall asleep until the very end.

It was two days before the presentation of your project. You wished you could have said that you were doing great and that you had your shit together, that everything was going smoothly, but that would be a big fat lie. You already talked about your reluctance with lying.

The truth was that you did not, in fact, have your shit together. You needed more fiber in your diet.

Two days before the project and Ji-woo hadn’t sent in her notes. She hadn’t followed up on her aural part of the presentation or anything to do with the project and you were done.

You really didn’t like Kim Ji-woo.

Unlike the other day, it wasn’t late at night. It was only eight in the evening, but you really didn’t feel like pulling another all-nighter because your partner decided to be irresponsible. Truly you had never met someone so hard to work with and you hoped you never would again. Working alone would have been better than having to put up with this nonsense since that was what you were essentially doing anyways.

Perhaps it was your fault for ever trusting that Ji-woo would do her work. You should have known better than to be so naive- like Taeyong had said. Your problem was that you were too trusting.

Taeyong

Right. You took your phone out and fumbled with it, clicking on his contact and holding the phone up to your ear. If there was anyone that would help calm your nerves, it would be him.

Wait. No. You pull the phone away and stare at the call screen for a moment, the picture you had taken of the two of you to put as the background. You were mid-hug, your own face was almost completely hidden while he displayed one of those brilliant smiles of his. It was a sweet picture, one you cherished.

Then you looked at the contact name, the way you had typed in ‘yongie<3’ with a little dragon emoji next to it. The original one never had the emoji, but since he knew the passcode to your phone (and had one day managed to convince you into adding his fingerprint in as well), he had broken in once and added it.

You click off the call, pressing your thumb onto the little red phone icon to end it before he could even pick up. There was no point trying to reach him, he would probably be busy with his girlfriend. Or something else. That thought has your gut in a twist because never before had you thought like this.

Since when had he ever been too busy for you? He had had girlfriends before and you had always been the best friend even then, watching from the sidelines. Even then, he never made you doubt what you meant to him. Even in a relationship, you were his favorite girl.

The fingers of your other hand curled into a fist, and you clenched it, swallowing hard. You missed him so fucking bad and you wanted nothing more than to call him. To hear him tease you about something and then show up anyways.

Where was your best friend when you needed him? For some reason, the fact that you were drifting felt like it was all your fault, and you had no clue on how to fix your mess. You wanted to be able to call him without second-guessing yourself and crossing your fingers, without biting your lips and hoping that a certain other girl hadn’t already taken up his time.

When you needed it most, your best friend was nowhere to be found.

It wasn’t just the project. It was the fact that you were head over heels for the boy and it would never be known to him. It was the fact that there was no one else you wanted as badly as Taeyong. You wanted to be the girl he spoke about fondly, the one who he took on dates and the one he called his.

But you weren’t. Instead, you had been a complete idiot and assisted in the process of him falling in love with someone else. You thought it would help you figure out what he liked and who it was, but no, all it did was hurt.

You didn’t realize tears had welled up in your eyes until one trickled down your face to your chin. You sniffed softly, bringing your hand up and wiping your face, screwing your eyes shut to prevent any more tears from spilling out because fuck, you hated crying over something you had no control over.

More quiet tears made their way out and to your surprise, you weren’t breaking down over your project. You were crying because of your broken heart and the pieces that lay around you helpless. Pieces you didn’t know how to put back together yourself.

It had never hit you as hard as it did right then, leaving you to cry into the palms of your hands. You were crying for the loss of a lover, over having him slip out of your fingers and never even trying to hold on. You were crying for the loss of your best friend, who seemed to not value you as important enough anymore.

Your phone lay unattended on the table. You missed the quiet buzzing of a return call, the notification of a check-up message. It didn’t matter anyway, because when you did go to check, you found out that the message had been deleted.

You were starting to feel a lot like that message.

From the moment he saw your name light up his phone screen, Taeyong had been worried.

He hesitated to answer it for just a second too long, but it was that second that fucked everything up. The call ended right before he could even pick up his phone and there weren’t any follow-up calls. This was extremely unlike you because when you wanted to reach him, you would keep calling until you got tired of it or he picked up.

He waited for the second call. Nothing.

It was then he called you back, wanting to check up on you. It had been a week to ten days since he last saw you, something he hated with every fiber of his being.

When you didn’t pick up, his stomach sank. He opened your texts, looking at how far back the last one had been, before pulling the keypad open and starting to type out a message to you.

[8:24 p.m.] yongie 🐉: hey, something up?

Fuck, that sounded weird for some reason. He backspaced, biting the inside of his cheek as he contemplated what to say.

[8:24 p.m.] yongie 🐉: u good?

He pressed send and then almost immediately regretted it. He dropped his phone and groaned aloud to no one in particular, looking up at the ceiling of his apartment. He missed hearing your set of keys jingle when you were outside the door, he missed your spontaneous visits. Without you, his home didn’t really feel much like one.

He deleted the message hurriedly and decided to call it a night. He would deal with all of this tomorrow when he had a fresh mind after a good night of sleep. Before bed, he checked to see if you had seen the deleted text.

You had.

The walk to campus the next day was lonely. He even waited at Starbucks for you, but you were nowhere to be seen and he was going to be late, which left him no choice but to go ahead without you. It felt wrong to walk without you chattering along by his side.

He missed it.

So when he saw you walking through the hallways, reading some notes you had out, he knew he had to talk to you. He walked over and cleared his throat, gently tapping your shoulder to attract your attention. You stiffened, turning around to look at him.

Your expression relaxed just a bit but stayed guarded to an extent. He gave you an impassive smile, pressing his lips together to form a thin line to cover up the surge of guilt that rushed through him after going so long without seeing you. “Hey.”

“Hi.” You said softly and immediately he could tell something was wrong. Your demeanor was completely different from what he was used to, closed off and voice clipped. You held your notes close to your chest, waiting for him to continue with what he was going to say.

“Can we talk?”

Talk, talk, talk. You wanted to talk to him so bad, but you knew that after you had finished it would be another week before you saw him again. Plus, you only had a day before the project left and so much to finish, you couldn’t be here wasting your time on a feeling that would only last a few minutes.

“I’m busy, got a project to finish.”

“It’ll take five minutes,” he promised, “I’m guessing Ji-woo didn’t do her work?” “She didn’t,” you confirmed, “Would have been helpful if I knew I could count on you.”

You didn’t mean to say that to his face and you definitely didn’t mean for it to come out so harshly. He looked taken aback, blinking slowly at your sudden outburst.

“I—I saw your call,” he mumbled, “It’s why I want to talk to you.”

You felt a little bad for springing that upon him so abruptly and so you agreed- out of pity, of course. You weren’t doing this because you were hopeless in love with him, you weren’t doing this because of some sort of futile hope. Definitely not. You were doing this because you felt bad and possessed empathy.

Wow. After all this time, you had finally started lying.

You nodded, and he gave you another one of those pretty smiles of his, this time a little brighter. Cocking his head to the side, he gestured towards an empty lecture hall that you could speak in. You followed him inside, noting that it was the same one you had to visit every Wednesday when you were a freshman.

It was quiet now. He turned to you and let out a sigh.

“You didn’t call again,” he said finally, “That’s not like you and I got a little worried so—”

You wanted to groan. While you had been overthinking and crying like a little bitch, he actually noticed. He got worried and thought about you and you hated the way that little piece of information had butterflies erupting in your stomach.

Because you’re angry, and being angry and in love at the same time was not the most optimal combination. It had your stomach fluttery and your mind pissed at you for being so affected by every little thing. It wasn’t your fault, you were just a girl in love.

“Stop. I’m fine, you can see that, can’t you?” You cut him off and once again it was like you had no control over your tongue. Hurt was thrown into the already mess that your feelings were right then, and it was ugly. You shut your eyes, regretting your words immediately.

“Sorry. I’m having a bad day.”

He knew what that meant, you had said the same thing all those days ago when you had gotten all snappy at him. Whenever something was wrong, you tended to hide it under the fact that you were supposedly having a bad day. This time, however, he wasn’t going to let you go without figuring out exactly what was troubling you.

“You’re not fooling me with that,” he said firmly, “Something is bothering you. Tell me.”

This was why you didn’t want to have this conversation. Taeyong could always see right through you and dealing with this was not on your agenda for the day.

“Taeyong—”

“You can trust me, you know? I’m your best friend.” There was a hint of offense in his voice. He was sad that you seemed to not want to share what was causing your shitty mood, even though all he wanted to do was help. After all, that was what best friends did, was it not?

You narrowed your eyes at him, your anger overriding your affection. Scoffing, you asked, “Best friends? Is that what we are?”

He looked bewildered but answered assuredly, “Always.”

“Right, because best friends avoid and ignore each other,” You scowled, taking a step away from him. “You haven’t been a best friend in weeks, Taeyong, so don’t pretend that you suddenly are now.”

It was the way that guilt took over his features so damn quickly; you knew that you hadn’t said a truer thing ever before. For weeks you had been trying to convince yourself it wasn’t so, that you were just reading too much into things, but you hadn’t. He had been avoiding you, you had hit the nail right on the head.

“Y/n I— I didn’t mean to, I swear,” he said earnestly, those eyes of his going round and insistent.

You raised your hand to shut him up, which did the trick pretty effectively. Immediately, he clamped his mouth close and you looked at him sharply.

You asked, “I get that you have a girlfriend and all, but does that mean you forget about me?” “Please if you would just—” He was panicking slightly now because of the fact that he was realizing exactly how far he had taken things. The lies had created a mountain, one that blocked his view of you and how you were doing.

Pride comes before fall. The act as up, for he had been standing so tall on his metaphorical mountain, he forgot the person who helped bring him up there.

But he didn’t, he didn’t forget, which only made this worse. He did this to protect you- no, that was a lie. He did this to protect himself. Coward, chicken, scaredy-cat.

“And I understand that you’ll never love me as you love her,” you exhaled, your throat feeling as if it had been pricked by several needles all at once, a strained pain that seemed to refuse to leave. Your eyes were wet, and you refused to cry but fuck, you might just start.

“So fuck me for falling in love with you,” you said. “But the least you could have done is be there for me like the best friend you claim to be. Somewhere along the path of you falling for her, you forgot about me.”

Confessions were supposed to be sweet and gentle, something that caught you from the fall that was love. Yours was nothing of the sort, instead a horrid sharp punch to the gut as he stared in horror at what he had done.

You loved him?

“Y/n,” he whispered your name as if it was something fragile. If he said it too loud, you would have crumbled right then and there. Then again, you were doing that anyway, right in front of his eyes.

“I just want you back.”

“I’m sorry.”

He didn’t even think to tell you how much he fucking loved you back, because all he felt was this overwhelming guilt. It was taking over him and he despised himself for being the reason you were like this. You were right, he had been the worst friend in the world to you.

‘I’m sorry’. The words taunted you and you almost laughed. ‘I’m sorry I was a shitty person. I’m sorry you fell in love with me.’

You sniffed, turning around on your heel and walking to the door, leaving the classroom without another word. You had nothing to say and wanted to leave before those tears made their way down your face and reminded you once again of what you would never have and never be.

You felt pathetic.

No one told you that there were repercussions for falling in love with your best friend. There really shouldn’t have been, but love was harsh. Love wasn’t like it was in the movies because you weren’t in one. Heartache was cruel and you were nowhere near prepared for the impact that it left on you, the hollow feeling you didn’t know how to fill.

From wingwoman to wreck, teaching Taeyong to fall in love and win the heart of another girl had never been a good idea, and you were insane to think so.

You were sorry too.

Taeyong didn’t have much love when it came to the romance department.

He said this for several reasons. The first was his terrible habit of tending to chicken out of situations often instead of owning up. The second was the fact that he had managed to fall in love with his best friend and break her heart all in the same breath.

The third was because somehow, he always went to the same person for advice.

Doyoung stared at his best friend, wondering how he always ended up being the therapist. Taeyong had showed up a few minutes ago, looking absolutely distraught and panicked, and although he had been pissed over his study time being interrupted, he knew he couldn’t just leave him there.

And so here he was, raising an eyebrow and prompting his friend to continue.

Taeyong sighed, feeling more like an idiot as time went on. The irony of him going to someone who had barely any experience in terms of dating for help was utterly ridiculous, but he kept finding himself in that position over and over again.

“I fucked up.”

Doyoung snorted. “You always do that.”

The former glared, “I’m serious. I fucked up so hard that I have no idea how to fix it.”

You were in love with him. He fucking apologized for pushing you away instead of saying it back like the absolute dumbass he was. He was in love with you too and he failed to tell you in time.

“Fine, fine,” Doyoung sighed, pushing away his textbooks when he realized his friend was serious. He had watched the two of you dance around each other for so long, what was a few more minutes of his life dedicated to it? Plus, he was admittedly a little invested in it now.

Yes, Kim Doyoung was potentially a whore for drama. And what about it?

Taeyong sucked in a deep breath and then started from the top. He told Doyoung the entire story, starting from that day so long ago at the library when he had dressed a little nicer than usual and used his good cologne just to impress you. He told him how you misunderstood his actions to such an extent that he ended up with you being his wingwoman.

He told him about how you helped him gather up the courage to ask this hypothetical girl out, and how you got him ready for the date. He was ready for the inevitable snickers around the part when he confessed that he sat alone in his car for two hours just to pretend he was at that date.

How he lied and ignored you and made every possible bad decision in the book along the way. You were right, after all, he really did need someone to guide him in the art of love, a wingwoman.

Preferably one that wasn’t you.

Once he was done, Doyoung was looking at him like he had grown another head. He probably deserved that, if he was going, to be honest with himself.

“You’re stupider than I thought.”

“I didn’t come here to be verbally abused, I came here for assistance.”

“You’ll get your assistance but first I have to remind you of how absolutely idiotic you’ve been,” Doyoung deadpanned, leaning back in his seat. “You apologized? I mean, at least you have your manners down.”

Taeyong groaned, burying his face in his hands. Just because he knew this was called for didn’t mean that he liked it any better. He waited for a moment for the other boy to continue, but nothing came.

“How do I fix this?”

……And now Doyoung was looking at him like he was a maniac. “You’re kidding.”

“Dead serious.”

“You seriously don’t know how to fix it?” He asked incredulously. “Why do I hang out with you again?”

“I swear to god-”

“You have a pretty face but your head is empty,” Doyoung grumbled, getting up from his seat and turning it around so he could sit on it backward, properly facing his obviously challenged friend. “You have to tell her the truth.”

Taeyong paused, remembering how much you disliked lying. Doyoung was right once again (unfortunately), the best thing to do was to come clean about everything that had happened, even if it ended with you hating him even more than you did currently.

So that meant he had everything to lose, but also everything to gain if things went right. He had to bet on it swerving the right way.

Begrudgingly, he admitted. “You’re right.”

“Hah, I always am.”

Your love for Taylor Swift was something you made sure Taeyong knew from the very start, where that was him having to listen to all your borderline insane theories over the next album she was going to release, or the songs that somehow were connected. He sat through them every time, not really paying attention to the content of your words, but more so to how your eyes sparkled with excitement over something you were truly passionate about.

Turning to Doyoung for help when it came to his love life was bad, so turning to songs written by an eleven-time Grammy award winner was a significant step up.

Stand there like a ghost Shaking from the rain, rain She'll open up the door And say, are you insane, -ane?

It wasn’t raining- thankfully- so he had to settle for an apology that was a little less dramatic. He was pretty sure he knew what he was doing for once, so all he had to do was actually go through with it.

He rang your doorbell twice in succession, which was a habit of his. He was the only person who did it like that, so the moment you heard it from where you were sitting in your bedroom (and sulking), you knew that it was Taeyong waiting out there for you. You cautiously swung your legs over the side of your bed and padded to the door, hesitating for a second before opening it.

You didn’t say anything when you first saw him standing there, instead, you silently held his gaze, gripping the side of the door. Taeyong gave you a crooked smile.

“Aren’t you going to ask me if I’m insane?”

You frowned, “I don’t follow.”

He shrugged before sobering up and biting the inside of his cheek. He knew you better than anyone did, down to your littlest habits that you didn’t know you did yourself. He could see the hurt in your eyes that you had disguised as indifference and apathy, and he was somewhat comforted by it. It meant you loved him just as he loved you.

Say it's been a long six months And you were too afraid to tell her what you want, want

“The song said you would,” he said, hoping to at least crack a chuckle out of you, “Fine, I’ll continue and tell you why I’m here.” He shut his eyes for a moment and gathered his wits. “I would say it’s been a long six months but I saw you a week ago so.”

As if something had clicked in your mind, you gave him a look that was a mixture of amusement and bewilderment. “Shut up,” Your breathed out, unbelieving that he was actually doing this, “you’re not seriously—”

And then you say—

“I lied to you. A lot.”

So maybe he was thwarted from the original lyrics, but it had to be done. The moment he said those first few words, he could feel the weight of it all roll off his shoulders. He should have never lied in the first place because you were his best friend and you didn’t deserve that at all.

He was going to make this right. He was going to get his girl.

You blinked slowly to silently tell him to continue with whatever he had to say. It wasn’t like you had anything better to do anyway, and you were admittedly now intrigued to see where this was going.

“And I know you hate lying, but I promise it’ll all make sense.” Taeyong was nervous because as he had mentioned earlier, he had never thought about asking you our or every properly telling you how he felt. There were always a million excuses he fell back on to justify this decision, but for once everything depended on him putting those aside and doing it anyways.

“Do you remember the day at the library?”

You nodded because how could you forget? “You were trying to impress your girlfriend.” The word ‘girlfriend’ was said bitterly, you didn’t even try to hide it anymore. It wasn’t like you had to anyway, you had already outed yourself to his face.

He shook his head, “No, I was trying to impress you.”

And now you were confused and it was apparent on your face from the way your brow knitted and your lips turned downwards into a baffled pout. “I’m sorry?”

“Y/n,” he said, voice dropping to a whisper. It was barely loud enough, but due to the silence of the hallway outside your apartment and your own anticipation, you heard it. The way he said your name made you almost flinch, but his next words had the wind knocked out of your lungs.

“I love you too.”

Too, because he hadn’t responded to your own proclamation before. Too, because he returned those very feelings that you had harboured for so long towards the boy. Too, because your affections weren’t in lonesome, and too, because it was an assurance.

I love you too, and the world stopped just for a minute as you sucked in a breath, your heart beating faster as if reminding you to breathe. Could he perhaps hear the way it hammered against your chest?

“You love me,” You repeated his words in a whisper as if you couldn’t believe it. “Taeyong I don’t think—”

“Stop thinking then,” He said quickly, looking down at his shoes. “I lied because I was scared. I was scared that you wouldn’t see me the same way and then I just kept letting that lie get bigger and bigger. There isn’t another girl, there never was, because the girl I wanted the entire time was you. For fucks sake I faked going on a date! Do you know how boring it is to do nothing for two hours in your car?”

You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of your throat, tears springing to your eyes. The information was overwhelming for you had never even considered this happening. You had settled firmly into your role as the best friend, the wingwoman, so much so that you had forgotten if there was anything after that. Your feelings had piled up so high that you couldn’t see what was behind them.

His own lips curled into the most affectionate of smiles at your laugh as he took a step closer to you. He reached out, hesitantly cupping your face with one hand, thumb brushing over your cheekbone gently. You leaned into his touch, placing your own hand over his.

“You’re a fucking idiot.”

“Yeah, Doyoung said that too.”

More laughter, your eyes turned into little crescents of joy at the mention of your shared friend. Taeyong studied your face, picking up on the little things he loved so much about you.

“I love you Y/n, and I love you because you’re the one who I want to go with to the grocery store in the middle of the night, the one I want to call when something happens. I love seeing your caller ID on my phone, and the fact that you stayed with me to build that stupid set of lego flowers that still sits on my chest-of-drawers back home.”

His eyes- those eyes you adored so much- looked at you with so much emotion. You were positively enchanted by your best friend, as you had always been, and you were sure you always would be.

“I love when you show up at my place unannounced or drag me along to cook with you even though I end up doing most of the cooking because you suck at it. I love it when you call me at the worst hours possible and the look on your face when I show up.”

He dipped his head down a little, an infuriating little simper on his lips. “I love your smiles and your frowns, Y/n, because I love you.”

You thought you were going to start crying, because fuck, he was talking about you the way you had always wanted to be talked about. In that fond tone of voice where anyone could see how much he truly cared, he was using it for you. No matter how many times you had imagined that happening, nothing could ever beat the real thing.

“Stop it,” You choked out, hitting his arm, “You’re going to make me cry, you dumbass.” But you were smiling, blinking away the happy tears that were threatening to spill. “ Since you love my frowns so much, you’re forcing me to say this with the most unpleasant face I can muster up right now, but I love you too Taeyong, I have for an embarrassingly long time”

Your glower didn’t last very long, however, because you were too busy blinking rapidly to stop yourself from crying. It felt amazing to be able to say those words to him and have him say them back to you in the way you had always wanted. As something more.

He let out an offended sound. “Embarrassingly? I just poured my heart out to you and you classify it as embarrassing I-”

You quickly shut him up by pulling him forward and pressing your lips to his, which did the trick pretty quickly. He kissed you back, his arms falling to your waist as he pulled you in even more until your body was flush against his. You smiled into the kiss, not caring that you were still standing in your doorway.

There were no fireworks like they said in books and movies, no cheers in the background or music. Instead, you were hyperaware of the way his fingers drew dizzying circles on the exposed skin of your hips from how your shirt rid up and how his mouth moved against yours.

You memorised every second of your first kiss with your best friend, eyes fluttered shut and holy shit, you never knew a kiss could ever make your eyes flutter, but this one did.

The kiss was delicate, you slipped your arms around his neck and your fingers entangled in his hair, tugging ever so slightly. His lips were soft and cautious almost- he didn’t want to do anything you weren’t comfortable with.

You thought you fell just a little bit more in love with him.

Pulling away, you rested your forehead against his, eyes still screwed shut like you believed that it would all disappear if you opened them. A fever dream that you wanted so badly that you couldn’t bear the thought of it being ripped away from you. This time you clung onto it, holding it tight and you would never let it go.

You could still feel the ghost of his kiss on your mouth, something that you never wanted to forget. You let your hands slip from their position in his hair and down to his neck, trying your best to not giggle like a giddy schoolgirl.

It was by no means your first kiss, but the fact that it was with Taeyong, someone you truly loved, and not a random boy you had had a mild crush on made all the difference. He had kissed you like you were the only girl in the world, the only girl he ever wanted.

“So….do you wanna let me inside or do you wanna continue making out here in the cold hallway?”

“Fuck,” you muttered, a flush rising to your cheeks as you took a step away, having to bite down on your lower lip to stop your smile from showing. “Can we continue making out inside?”

He laughed, “Yes we can.” He was already pulling you back in after shutting the door, and you grinned, looking up at him. The boy had listened to Taylor Swift for you and loved you back, everything was perfect.

You just had one question though.

“Can we circle back to the fact that you faked going on a date or—”

“Not a chance.”

“I’m breaking up with you.”

Your boyfriend threw you a scandalized look at that statement, shaking his head as he took a few more steps. You were (surprisingly) not too far behind him, a grimace seemingly permanently etched into your face as you glared at him.

“Oh come on,” Taeyong protested, stopping where he was and helping you catch up to him. “It isn’t that bad.”

“You woke me up at four a.m for this! The sun is still asleep.” And it was because the sky was still a deep purple colour at five a.m. You were close to destroying all his chances of having offspring in the future.

“That’s…..that’s why it’s called a sunrise hike genius, you’re supposed to finish the hike to see the sun come out.” He deadpanned, a droll expression on his face at your whining. You knew he didn’t really mind it and was simply amused.

“If the sun isn’t awake, we shouldn’t be either.”

“What, are you a plant or something? Do you need photosynthesis?”

There were boyfriends that let their girlfriends sleep in on days off, and then there was Taeyong who practically dragged you out of bed to go on a stupid hike. For someone who constantly told you how fucked up your sleep schedule was, he wasn’t really helping fix it, now was he? Hypocrite - a cute one- but a hypocrite nonetheless.

“I’m trying to be romantic and this is how you act?” He asked, an infuriatingly adorable pout resting on his lips. You had to pinch your lips to stop yourself from smiling because if you did, he would never let you live it down.

“Taeyong, I love you, but nothing is romantic before ten.”

He simply rolled his eyes, reaching out to take your hand and help you climb up a jagged bit of the trail. You stumbled slightly and he slipped his arm around your waist to steady you so you wouldn’t fall flat on your face, making sure you found your footing. You mumbled thanks under your breath, shaking your hair out of your face and dusting your pants.

“Come on,” He said, squeezing your hand, “We’re almost there anyway. I promise it’ll be worth it.”

You would never understand how he thought this was relaxing or romantic in the slightest because you were already tired and your hair was sticking to your forehead due to it being weirdly hot that morning.

The things you did for this boy. You silently scoffed at yourself as you followed him, this time managing to stay in step and not fall too behind. You didn’t even have any caffeine in your system right now and he knew how much you needed your daily fix of it. The fact that he had managed to get you out here without that was a miracle in itself.

The two of you had made it official a few days after he told you that he loved you back, much to Doyoungs relief more than surprise. He had been tired of being subjected to your mutual obliviousness and was probably the first and biggest supporter of the relationship, but not without pointing out how much of a third wheel he had always been.

Taeyong was an amazing boyfriend, even when he made you wake up much too early for your liking. Being with him was incredibly natural and the two of you worked perfectly together as if it had been made to be that way all along.

The sky was now a lighter colour, indicating that the sun was rising. The trail was almost finished, and Taeyong stopped where he was, a small smile making its way onto his face as he looked out at the view.

“We’re here,” He whispered, and you joined him, sucking in a breath- one, because you needed it from all the hiking and two, because god.

It was fucking gorgeous. He had been right, it really was worth the getting up early and taking the hike just to see how the sunrays filtered through the sky and spilled out over the city below, painting the sky with oranges and pink hues that blended into the blue.

“I…wow,” You couldn’t find the words to describe the beauty of the scene, forgetting all about your contempt over being awoken so early.

“Told you so,” he quipped, and you elbowed him, letting out an unamused laugh, turning to face him properly. Maybe it was more than the view that had you feeling the way you did right then like you were on top of the world. Maybe it was Taeyong right by your side, hand in hand with you. The glow of the sun just about flickered through his hair, giving him a gentle halo.

“You….were right,” you admitted finally, letting him wrap you in a hug and pull you closer. “And you know what? I’ll give it to you, this is pretty romantic. Even if you did make me exercise at five in the morning.”

He pushed some of your hair out of your face and tucked it behind your ear. “Was that so hard to say?”

“Extremely. I’m never doing that again.” And with that, you pressed your lips to his for a short, sweet kiss underneath the rising sun atop the trail of the hike. Breaking away, you buried your head in the crook of his head, and the two of you stayed like that for a bit, basking in each other’s comforting silence.

Taeyong quite liked the outcome of the mess he made, somehow everything had worked out, and he promised himself he would never do something that stupid again. He would never let you go.

“Hey, Taeyong?”

“Yeah?”

There wasn’t even a moment of hesitation from you. “I love you.”

He would never, ever get tired of hearing that. The two of you had come a lot way, from a girl latching onto a boy because he was the only person she recognized, to both of you being everything to each other.

“I love you too.”

And that’s how it works, Taeyong thought, that’s how you get the girl.

fin.

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