#taeyong imagines

[taeyongers]

Between the Hammer and Anvil (M)

pairing: mafia boss/ceo taeyong x spy reader

genre: childhood friends to lovers, mob au, ceo au

word count: 33.6k

summary: you are a member of yuta's mob sent to spy on a rival mob's boss taeyong who unfortunately happens to be your childhood love that you haven't seen in a decade. when you realize he's still in love with you, and you with him, you grapple with the reality of your mission. (also includes best friend jungwoo and brief Johnny appearance)

warnings: blood, guns, gunfights, illicit activities, minor to medium injuries, physical violence, kidnapping, mentions of death, explicit sexual content, subyong and domyong and everything in between, oral (m. and f. receiving), slight hair pulling and breathplay, semi public (office) smut. healthy relationship though (besides the spying), accidental pregnancy. minors dni.

“The Scorpion?” You echo. The name is big, feared, and known throughout the criminal world, but never you thought you’d take him on.

“Yes. We need to infiltrate his base.” Your boss, Yuta, speaks busily while sifting through folders on his desk.

“That’s a bold move. He’s the most powerful mob boss in the city.”

“We have no choice. They’ve slowly been taking over our territories. I know we are big in the city as well, second only to him, but he’s too powerful to fight head on. We need to turn the tide against him before we’re nearly wiped out, and we do that by infiltrating his base.” He glances at you. “We need to get intel from there directly so we can figure out how to sabotage his operations, eliminate his members, and hit him where it hurts. Then, with the most powerful organization crumbling, we can take over.” 

You mull the idea over in your mind. It’s a good idea in theory but you can’t imagine how you can possibly put it into action. “Do you know where his base is?” He shakes his head. You snort. “No offense, Yuta, but for all your wittiness, this plan is foolhardy. Not to mention risky. How do you intend on infiltrating him? He’s smart, powerful, and hides in the shadows. No one knows who or where he is.”

Yuta smiles. “Nobody did. But I do.” He rummages through his files. 

You blink. “You managed to uncover his real identity?”

“Yes.. with a great deal of tracking and tracing through member interactions, we’re about ninety percent sure of his identity.” He seems to find the file he was looking for and pulls up a paper for view. “And I need you to go in, pose as a new recruit, monitor them for a while and then come back and report to me.”

Now, you laugh. “What makes you think they’d just let me in willy nilly?”

Yuta grins behind the paper. “Because the Scorpion knows you.” You freeze. He puts the paper on top of a deck of documents in a folder and slides the case file across the table towards you. The thick stack of papers come into view haphazardly, but the printed photo on top slides stops your heart. Familiar eyes, face, all from your memories. “His name is Taeyong.”

Your mind swirls in flashbacks. Taeyong. A childhood friend. A friend whose father was a mob boss. Your father worked directly under him and you were Taeyong’s age, so naturally, you grew up together, from elementary into high school years. It was always expected that he was to take over his father’s position. His father’s organization was far reaching, well established, and successful. Yet no one would’ve ever believed Taeyong was a mob boss’ heir. He was always kind, funny, full of life, and soft. You’d watch him fall from the jungle gym and cry, thinking he’s soft, much too soft. You wondered how he could possibly be related to his ruthless father while wiping his tears and putting a bandaid on his wound, secretly hoping his softness never went away. 

But around high school, he’d suddenly grown shy, avoiding eye contact, avoiding everything, avoiding you completely. It hurt at first and then frustrated you to no end. You’d cornered him between the shelves of the library, watching his face painted full pink, flusteredly asking you what you were doing but all you could say was you’re my best friend, please don't leave me with tears in your eyes. He’d looked shocked, then relaxed, then apologized, finally, promising he wouldn’t. Painfully, painfully ironic because the next day was the last time you saw him.The police had managed to pin your father with evidence. Your dad suddenly made you pack and leave the state before he got caught. You recall crying in the car as you drove away from your home, your friends, from Taeyong. You’ve missed him every day since, even until now. Sometimes, the inexplicable aching emptiness threatens to swallow you whole.

Since moving here to a place outside police jurisdiction, your father began working directly under another mob boss. Twelve years later, it fell to his son Yuta’s leadership, while you followed your father’s footsteps after his early passing and joined to work directly under him. 

Yuta was reasonable but strict. And when he was ruthless, he was terrifying. Fitting for what was needed in a kingpin. He used you as his weapon for many missions and was usually successful. But this.. this is beyond what you had bargained for.

“Y/n?” Yuta’s voice shakes you out of your stupor. “Do you recognize him?” You blink rapidly, eyes tracing over the very grown features of the once lanky, shy boy you saw last. The Scorpion. So, it seems that Taeyong did take over his father’s position after all. 

“Yes,” you force out, voice shaky for some indiscernible reason.

“Great,” he sighs in relief. “I heard you grew up with him. We can use this to our advantage. If you try to join their organization, hopefully high up in the ranks. He might let you in easily. Then, you can infiltrate and we’ll have our victory on our hands.” Infiltrate. Let you in. You’ll have to see him again..

“No.” The word falls from your mouth before you can stop it. “I… I can’t do it.”

Yuta’s eyes narrow. “You’ve never refused a mission before. Why not?”

“We have uh..” your throat burns. “..history” 

He raises a brow, understanding seeping into his features. “A lover?”

Your cheeks burn, and you look away. “No.. just friends.”

Yuta looks skeptical. “How long ago?”

“Twelve years.” 

“Good. That's enough time to be over him, or for him to be over you.” He continues rummaging through papers. You realize he’s going to continue with this plan. Your eyes flit back to the photograph, of Taeyong staring up at you, of memory flashes of soft, sweet smiles and blushing and butterflies. The thought of seeing him again, of betraying him…

“Yuta.” He hums in question. “I can't do it. Find someone else.”

He glares at you before scoffing. “You’re being dramatic. Just get in there, infiltrate, and get out. Find his weak points, things we can take advantage of.” Yuta drops the other papers onto the table. “I can’t find someone else to do it. You’re the only one he won't suspect since he knows you.” You hesitate. He leans forward. “You’re telling me that you’d betray us, after a decade, for a boy you had a crush on in childhood?”

“Of course not!” You say, but uncertainty flares in your chest. You are fiercely loyal to Yuta. You can’t imagine betraying him for anyone else.. but this is different territory.

“Good. All you have to do is remember your allegiance and get intel and come back in a month.”

A month.. you will have to interact with taeyong for a month. “And how will I join them if I don’t know where their base is?”

“Easy. You talk to their recruiter.” He says, filing all the papers back into the folder. “I had one of our guys spread the word around about a daughter of a former mob member who has great skills for illegal activities. It’s only a matter of time before they call you.”

You snort. “Wow, you even gave them my phone number?”

“I don’t need to. They’ll trace you on their own.” He answers distractedly, gathering the files. “Why don’t you take the next week off? I don’t want you here when they trace your number and location. Maybe hang around in a coffee shop or something?”

You watch him, nerves creeping up. “You’ve really planned this out, huh? What if I had said no?”

He glances at you. “Remember, this is our only chance to take down the Scorpion and ensure our success for years. I’m not going to waste it. Besides,” he smiles, plopping the files into a near pile on the table. “You never had a choice anyway.”

...

You begrudgingly visit coffee shops, parks and other public places the next week and stay away from Yuta’s base. Sure enough, you get a call from a private number.The man on the other end identifies himself as a recruiter for an illicit organization. The recruiter’s voice was rich and sweet, like molasses or honey. You find yourself enjoying listening to it. He calls himself Jungwoo and says that he heard about you through his connections, that he knew your father worked for this group a long while ago, and that they’d love for you to work with them. You try to sound interested and accept, feeling your stomach churn all the while. You are that much closer to seeing Taeyong after over a decade. He tells you to go to a specific location in the city from where he will pick you up. You follow his directions and within an hour, you’re climbing into a sleek black van with a young, handsome man and driving down the highway.

“We know about your father. He was a well respected man. It’s a shame what happened,” he recounts.

“Yeah, a shame.” You reply distantly, your mind only on the idea of seeing Taeyong after all these years and spy and subsequently betray him. Your stomach churns more.

“Were you okay after that? Did you go into hiding?” 

“Uh.. yeah. The police never managed to catch my dad once we left this area.” You are careful to leave out the part where you got involved with another mob, unknowingly the rival of Taeyong’s.

“That’s good. It’s nice that you can return here now.” He smiles at you. You inspect him. Is everyone working under Taeyong going to be this nice? 

“When I join.. do you know what position I’ll be or… or who I’ll work under?”

He hums in thought. “Well, since you’re a fresh recruit, you’ll be at the bottom of the hierarchy. Give it a few years and you’ll work your way up. You may even work directly under the boss.”

A few years? You will never get valuable intel for Yuta while working as a simple recruit. You need to be higher up than that to get valuable information. The gears in your mind turn until you play the only card you have. “Is there a Taeyong there?”

Jungwoo freezes, eyes flitting to you suspiciously. Nobody is supposed to know who the boss is, so you’re hoping to play it off like a coincidence “Taeyong? How do you know him?” He asks guardedly. 

“We were friends when my father worked directly under his father. I was wondering if he was still here.” Jungwoo’s brows furrow, and you explain further. “Yes, we grew up together.”

Jungwoo gives you a once over before carefully acquiescing. “Yes.. there might be someone like that there. I’ll have to double check our members’ list when we get inside. We’re almost here anyway.” He pulls the car into the lot of a large building that looks like a typical financial office building. Jungwoo parks his car and takes you through the doors, past reception and towards the elevators. The lobby is filled with people who look like office workers, dressed in formal wear and carrying briefcases and files. You figure it’s a nice camouflage for the real happenings of this building. Yuta’s group is mainly hidden underground in the slums and didn’t need this much of a cover. Once in the elevators, you both go to the highest floor. Upon stepping out, you catch sight of the floor to ceiling windows in the hallway. You can see the entire city’s skyline from here. Jungwoo leads you to an empty office room with some chairs and tables. “Please wait here. I’ll uh… check if Taeyong is here and knows you.”

“Okay,” you say, watching him leave. The moment the door shuts closed, your heart begins pounding. You’ve rarely been nervous before, not even during missions or shootouts. But this is different, so wildly different, you don’t know how to behave. You settle for focusing on the stunning view outside the window in order to ground yourself. Not even five minutes later, the door swings open abruptly. You whirl around to see two figures standing in the doorway, making no effort to come inside the room.

One is unmistakably Taeyong, dressed in a suit and hair carefully combed back from his face. His face, that he grew into after all these years, makes your heart come to a stop. His eyes are the same, big and wide and wonderful, even wider now with the shocked expression he wears, along with his parted mouth. His hand is still clamped around the door knob as if it's an anchor to reality. He stands there motionless, eyes running over you in disbelief. Jungwoo stands behind him, slightly bewildered at his reaction. “Y/n?”

Similar shock and disbelief well up inside you. Your churning stomach turns into a butterfly garden. “Taeyong…”

Junwoo watches the exchange before stepping back into the hallway. “Okay.. I.. think I’ll just stand outside.” He disappears from behind Taeyong who dazedly steps into the room. He looks so grown and handsome, with the same eyes you’ve always known.

“Jungwoo asked me… if I knew a Y/n…” he says, his voice so familiar even after a decade. “All I did was just run over here…” He steps forward carefully towards you until he’s standing in front of you. With him so close, your stomach turns into a bursting mush of butterflies and tingles. With his dark eyes drinking in every feature of your face, you barely recall where you are and why you came here in the first place.

“I… It’s been a while,” you manage out.

He blinks, as if registering your voice. “Yes. You’re... grown up,” he flushes. “You’re beautiful.” Your face burns, and burns again when his lips fall into a fond smile, eyes running over your features.“I missed you,” he breathes out. You find yourself  sucking in a breath. “Can I hug you?”

You pull him into you without a word, arms wrapping tightly around him. He melts immediately, hands pressing you closer against his chest. You sigh in the embrace, head resting on his shoulder. “I missed you too,” you say, voice cracking a bit this time. The daily, inexplicable longing you’ve felt for a decade has all been washed away in this moment. He squeezes you tighter, nosing your hair, so warm and safe in your arms that you never ever want to leave. It's a minute or two before he reluctantly lets go with a warm smile. He still looks so soft, just as in childhood, and it’s hard to believe you’re hugging a kingpin of a criminal empire.

“I can’t believe you’re here.” He touches your face again, gently. “Were you just recruited?” You nod, pressing your cheek into his hand. “Ah,” he blinks. “Jungwoo?” He calls. The man steps through the open door, eyes taking in the close distance between you two. “She’ll be working directly under me. Give her clearance to everything.”

Your brain grinds to a halt while Jungwoo looks skeptical. “Will she go through the initiation?”

“Not needed.” Taeyong turns back to you, eyes softening. “Her father worked with us for many years. No doubt she’ll be just as loyal as him.”

Jungwoo furrows his brows and looks as if he’s about to say something. Then, he stops himself, says “yes, Boss” and walks out the door, closing it behind him. Taeyong doesn’t pay any mind. He’s still gazing at you, smiling.

“So.. Boss huh?” 

He smiles, shrugging. “It took some getting used to.”

“For a kingpin called the Scorpion, you still look like the soft boy crying on the playground.”

He grins playfully. “Do I?” You nod, chuckling. “I’m glad you still remember.”

“Of course I remember. I remember everything about you.”

A light pink settles on his cheeks and you know you’re right; take out the title and he’s still the same boy you knew. “Listen, we actually have a meeting right now with my staff. I want you to join.”

And suddenly you remember why you’re here, how this is a supposed golden opportunity as Taeyong’s mob’s rival, and your heart bleeds in pain. “Ah.. is it really okay for me to join without an initiation?”

“Of course,” he answers easily, trusting, always too trusting. He hesitates and seems to gather courage to raise his hand and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. Your stomach bursts into a mess of butterflies once again and you hold your breath, not daring to move. His eyes are soft and you find yourself mesmerized. “You’re already part of this family, just as your father was.”

You grow unbearably soft, forgetting even the guilt as you gaze silently back at him. He does the same, and the air shifts in the silence. He looks like he’s about to say something before someone knocks on the door. “Boss, the meeting is starting,” Jungwoo’s muffled voice sounds through the door.

Taeyong blinks himself back to the present and smiles warmly at you. At that moment, you know more than anything that you don't deserve him. “Come on, let’s go.”

...

The meeting is held in a large room at the end of a hallway that is covered in crystal clear, floor to ceiling windows. You marvel at just how much money this organization must be bringing in compared to Yuta’s. No wonder he wants to take down this group so badly. As soon as you enter, all eyes are on you. A dozen men and women are dressed in suits and formal wear, as if this were no different than a business conference. You have to admit, they play their front well. Taeyong enters behind you and closes the door before standing in front of the room. “Everyone, this is our new member.” He gestures to you and introduces your name. 

You feel self conscious as skeptical eyes burn into you from around the room. Given your experience with mobs and their initiation process, no new member should be joining the ranks so high up in the hierarchy, let alone be introduced directly by the boss himself to the inner circle. None of these people should know you yet. You should even be here in this room. And from their questioning glances at Taeyong, they know this too. Taeyong is either oblivious or ignores them by the time he’s done introducing you. You smile and bow slightly before awkwardly shuffling into the back of the room, out of sight, with everyone’s eyes following you all the way. 

Taeyong seems to ignore the confused glares and questioning glances and starts the meeting. He outlines high level happenings of the organization, just as a CEO would for a corporation. You watch him confidently explain plans, ask questions to different people, and instruct them on what to do. It’s a marvel, and so different from who you knew in childhood. You take in his frame, dressed in his blazer and black button down and with matching trousers. A kingpin indeed. After giving instructions specific to each person on how to execute the phases of their next operation, he dismisses the group and everyone shuffles out. Soon, he stands alone at the front of the room, peering at the laptop screen sitting open on the table.

You saunter over to him. “You didn’t give me any orders, Boss.”

He looks up suddenly, a little startled, then seems to register your words. You catch the slightest glimpse of a blush before he looks down and rubs his hand across his mouth, obscuring his cheeks. “We uh… may need help identifying possible locations of a big shipment dropoff. You can work with Jungwoo on that. He’ll let you know what to do.”

You notice how he avoids your eyes. “Is that an order?” His eyes stay trained on the laptop, hands moving up from his mouth to scratch the back of his neck.

“Uh huh.” He suddenly catches you trying to hold back a laugh and sighs, ducking his head. “This feels strange. I don’t like giving you orders.”

“I’m just like everyone else.”

He looks at you like he’s about to protest but looks down again. “You aren’t,” he murmurs, almost to himself.

And if that didn’t make your chest hurt with an absurd amount of heart flutters, you would be lying. You watch him silently, not knowing what else to say. “I’ll get right on it, Boss.”His cheeks seem to tint that much more as you leave the room.

...

You’re supposed to be collecting intel, not helping them, you try to remind yourself as you find Jungwoo’s desk out on the main floor of cubicles. He greets you and pulls up a chair beside him in front of his computer monitor.“So, how was your first day?” He smiles as you settle in.

“Not so bad. I think the skeptical looks will take some getting used to.”

“They’ll warm up. Your situation is unusual, after all,” Jungwoo comments. “I’m surprised how quickly you’ve adjusted without skipping a beat. Almost as if you’ve been working for another organization all along,” he jokes. You laugh nervously. “Speaking of unusual, Taeyong seems to .. like you.” He eyes you inquisitively.

“Yeah. I’ve known him for a while. We didnt get to have a proper goodbye the last time we saw each other.”

“I see,” Jungwoo nods. “So were you together? Back before…”

“Oh no, we weren’t,” you shake your head. “Just friends.”

He squints, smiling. “Really? Because you two seem awfully close. I’ve actually never seen him like this before. I’ve been working closely with him for a while now and he has a tendency towards being on the softer side but he is never not strict and can be ruthless when needed. That’s how we become so successful. But with you, all that seems to melt away.”

You can’t imagine Taeyong being ruthless. Ever since childhood, and even until now, he’s been nothing but sweet and kind in everything that he does. “I think he’s just sentimental,” you wave it off. “It’s been twelve years, after all.”

Jungwoo doesn’t seem to buy it. “Whatever it is, it’s only a matter of time before he starts showing favoritism towards you and everyone will take notice. Actually, he already has shown favoritism, and everyone has taken notice.”

Your cheeks burn. You were supposed to not draw attention to yourself. “If you’re talking about letting me in without going through initiation, I think that was just a one time thing. I’m sure from now on, I’ll be treated just like everyone else. No special attention here.” 

Jungwoo is about to say something before a woman approaches his desk, calling your name. “Boss wants to see you in his office.”

Jungwoo gives you an insufferably knowing look. You ignore him and follow the lady. She guides you down the main floor of cubicles and towards the end of the hallway with large wooden double doors. It’s clearly the room of someone important. She drags open one heavy door by the long vertical handle and ushers you inside. You step tentatively through and balk at the scene before you. Taeyong’s office is massive - as big as a house. The ceilings are two stories tall. On the left wall, there is a main desk area in front of three bookshelves and various art decor. An armchair sits behind the large desk made of some fancy high caliber wood. On the right, there is a seating area with leather couches and chairs upon an expensive looking, misshapen- shaped rug. Of course, there’s a marble fireplace on the right wall to top it off.

“Oh my god,” you whisper as you step in. Yuta would be fuming with jealousy if he saw this.

You hear a chuckle. You didn’t even notice Taeyong standing by the back end of the room, given that the size of his office completely dwarfs him. He walks towards you with a wine bottle in hand. “Do you like it?” He smiles. “It’s my favorite room in the whole building.”

You step further into the room, taking in even more details you didn’t see at first glance. The leather of the armchair, the carved ivy detailing on the fireplace, the nameplate on his desk that looks suspiciously like it’s made of gold. “Yeah, I can see why.”

He grins again, motioning to his wine glass. “I was thinking we can catch up over wine. We barely had a chance to talk today. And we have twelve years to cover.”

You smile slowly and nod. “Sounds like a great idea.”

Within twenty minutes, you two are laughing over sloshing wine glasses and reminiscing excitedly over old memories. “I could not believe you,” he laughs, filling your glass again.

“I just wanted to know what riding on a bus felt like!” You protest, lifting the glass just as he was done pouring to take another sip.

“But you got on the bus with no ticket at eight years old?” He gazes at you, wide eyed.

“I was curious what a bus would be like! I’m pretty sure the bus driver thought I was one of the other passenger’s kids when I came on so he didn’t bother with the ticket.”

He struggles, laughing between breaths. “How long did it travel before you started freaking out?”

“Like ten minutes.” He laughs louder, hitting his hand on the desk you both are leaning against. “I demanded to be let off. I realized I didn’t know any of those people or where I was going. It was a good thing the bus stopped near your house.”

“I remember you rang the door crying,” he giggles, sipping his glass. “I figure being so rich really does inspire curiosity in such everyday things.”

“Yeah, with all that untaxed money our fathers made from illegal activities, we missed out on a lot of everyday things, so I was completely justified.” You emphasize, watching him laugh again. You smile giddily, feeling energized and oddly proud you can make him laugh so much. 

“Of course you were,” he acquiesces easily. 

“Our fathers were always busy but do you remember how they’d just drop us off at one of our houses or the other when they needed to go to work?”

“Oh yeah, those playdates were fun.” He smiles, eyes distant. “You were genuinely my only friend back then.”

You protest with a noise before you even finish drinking from the glass. “That’s not true! Remember your ninth birthday party with all our classmates?”

He scoffs before taking another sip, his smile fading. “Yeah, classmates, not friends. Remember that one kid blew out my birthday cake candles before I could? And I just broke down in tears?”

“Oh no, I do remember.” You recount your sadness while watching your friend crying and then the burning anger your nine-year-old self felt afterwards. “Oh and then I-“

“Then you took a chunk of the cake and shoved into that kid’s face,” Taeyong laughs brightly. “You got in so much trouble. And you ruined the cake, but that made my day.” You giggle, remembering the lecturing by multiple parents and the annoying kid crying into his mother’s skirt with pieces of cake still smeared on his face. All that mattered to you though was that Taeyong was smiling through the entire aftermath.

“I didn’t like that kid anyway. He teased me on the playground every day, yet my mom invited him.”

You frown. “I hated him for that.”

He looks at you fondly. “I know.”

You flush a little bit under his gaze, then straighten up and blame it on the alcohol. “Remember middle school and high school and how awkward we got?”

Yong suddenly grows shy and scratches his neck. “Ah yeah… I regret those days.”

“Puberty does wonders,” you roll your eyes before looking at him pointedly. “And our peers not minding their own business while being extremely heteronormative and interrogating any co-ed friendship throughout the entire school,” you point your glass at him. “Which ultimately led you to completing ghosting me freshman year.”

Yong waves his wine glass in apology, approaching you. “I’m sorry! People wouldn’t leave me alone! Besides.. you were ah..” he trails off, looking to the side as he always does when he's embarrassed. You mentally note again how difficult it is to believe he’s a mob boss. 

“I was what?” You press lightly.

“You were becoming really pretty and.. uh.. I.. was a toad,” he sighs.

You laugh out loud, reaching out to hold his hand in comfort. “You were not!” 

“I was! Do you even know what fifteen year old boys look like?” He shakes his head as he comes to stand before you. “All the wrong proportions.”

You shake your head, smiling giddily at the wine flowing through your system. You set your glass down onto his desk and tug him closer by the shoulders. “You were perfect,” you say purposefully, but don't miss the way a flush rises to his cheeks. Whether it's from the wine or your words or both, you can't tell. “Remember when I cornered you in the library sophomore year?”

His eyes widen. “Yes! I couldn’t tell if you were going to punch me or kiss me.”

You laugh again. “But instead I cried and said I missed you and asked you to talk to me again.”

Taeyong chuckles, eyes growing sober. “Yeah. And I promised to. But the next day..”

“Yeah, the next day.. I left.” Silence fills the room. The muscles of your face are slightly tired from all the smiling. You realize you’ve barely registered how close Taeyong has come to stand in the midst of talking. Your hands are still on his shoulders. His smile fades away until now there's an intense look in his eyes.

“I missed you, Y/n.”

Your chest aches. “Me too. I missed you too.” His eyes dart between yours, and find yourself falling into them. They are the same sparkling, wondrous, soulful eyes you've always known, which have always looked at you like this. It's when these eyes dart to your lips that your mind stops working. A burning, fluttering sensation erupts in your stomach like it did when you were back in middle school, being questioned by your friends on if you were in love with Lee Taeyong. You register him leaning a bit closer. His nose nudges yours, hands slide around your waist, and his hot breath fans your mouth. You subconsciously tighten your grip on his shoulders, your heart rate speeding up, your stomach twisting into knots. All you have to do is angle your head up…. 

Your lips barely brush his before a loud knock erupts from the double doors. Both of you freeze and are ripped back into reality. “Boss? Something just came up. We need you in the meeting room.” A muffled voice sounds through the door. 

Your hands retract from Taeyong’s shoulders with heat crawling across your face. His hands slip from your waist in return, his head falling forward in disappointment before calling out, “I’ll be right there.”

You clear your throat, cheeks burning. “I should go. Unless you need me for whatever that is.“

He shakes his head, rubbing his hand over his mouth like he does to hide his blush. “No no, you go on home. I don’t want you to be overworked on your first day.”

You gaze at him. He looks a bit put out and avoids all eye contact, frowning. You briefly wonder if he even enjoys being a mob boss. You lean up and kiss his cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He brightens up considerably, a smile blooming back onto his lips, eyes sparkling once more. “Yeah.. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

...

You return home in the evening, mentally replaying every single moment of that day. You swear your heart feels lighter than it has in years, as if the answers to all your life questions have been found. The world around you even seems to be a bit more colorful and you find yourself enjoying the walk from the parking lot to your apartment. You lightly smack your head. “Oh god, what am I doing? I’m a member of the mafia, not a giddy high school girl in love.”

Were you in love? Your cheeks burn, remembering how you shamefully melted at every single thing Taeyong did and said today. You even threw all caution to the wind and almost kissed him. You force yourself back to reality with a pounding heart. You really don’t want to know the answer to your question. You spot something in front of your doorstep and find a small cardboard package addressed to you from an unknown address. You step inside your apartment and rip open the cardboard flaps, revealing a brand new cell phone with a note. It reads: Activate this. Don’t take this anywhere outside your house. So, Yuta sent you a separate untraceable phone with which you can contact him to provide intel. You loathe how smart that man is. Groaning, you plop onto the couch and activate the phone.  As soon as it’s set up, you receive a call. “Hello?”

“Missed me?” Yuta’s voice sounds from the other end.

You rub your forehead. “You tracked my location to figure out when I came home so you could call me?” 

“Yes but mainly so I could find out where the Scorpion’s base was,” you hear him smiling on the other end. “And now I do, thanks to you.”

“Great,” you say sarcastically. Now Yuta knows where the headquarters are. You’re not sure if that’s good. 

“So?” He prods. “Tell me everything.” You hesitate and then relay to him how you were accepted without initiation and are working directly under Taeyong. You feel dirty while doing it, knowing you’re nothing but a weapon to Yuta for selling out a man who completely trusts you. “Good. Very good. Keep doing this until you collect enough information that we can use to really hurt them.”

“…Alright,” you say tiredly. There’s a glaring silence from the other end. You sigh and adjust your tone.  “Yes, Boss, I’ll get right on it.”

“Good,” he says before hanging up. You toss the phone across the cushion, feeling disgusted. What are you doing? How can you do this to Taeyong? You bury your head in your hands, mulling over your reality. At the same time, Yuta and his father helped you and your family when you had no one. You feel guilty if you don't do as he says, as if you were caught between two impossible choices.

You don't sleep well that night. 

...

You return to the office the next day. Jungwoo texted beforehand asking if you needed a ride to the office but you figured you could take your own car. Once you’re inside the building, it amazes you again just how much like a typical financial office space the entire place looks. People are busy with files and documents, rushing this way and that in their business clothes, meetings are held in conference rooms, and telephones ring throughout the floor. What a mask for the sheer amount of illegal activities happening here. You find Jungwoo seated at his desk, working away already. He greets you with a smile and a pat to the chair next to his. You vaguely remember you’re supposed to be helping him pick locations for some shipment dropoff. 

“Shall we pick up where we left off yesterday? You know, before the Boss whisks you away again?” He grins, teasingly. “By the way, I saw you leaving the office yesterday looking very flushed.”

Yesterday's memories flash through your mind, of the laughing and flushed cheeks and that almost kiss. You clear your throat abruptly. “We were just drinking wine and catching up.”

He grins into his coffee mug, swinging his chair a little to face his computer screen, not believing you for one second. You sigh and begin your work, asking plenty of questions when you need to. Jungwoo is kind and explains everything, their operations, clients, alliances, even the hierarchy of the organization itself. It’s a wealth of intel and you loathe it. You loathe having to know and learn things from people who trust you. You dread having to report it to Yuta. Your resolve in this “mission” falters by the day and you’re not sure your loyalty can last this week.  

You barely see Taeyong today. You only catch a glimpse of him talking to a subordinate in the hallway before disappearing into his office. Whatever came up yesterday must have made him very busy. You try not to deflate. Once the day ends, you bid Jungwoo goodbye, give one last glance at the hallway to Taeyong’s office and head home. You don’t get a call from Yuta that night. After all, he made it clear that you are expected to call him and report any new intel you receive, but you don't have it in you today, or for any day for that matter. The evening passes by uneventfully and you fall asleep in your bed. 

...

Like a dutiful employee, you return to the office the next day and the next, slowly getting used to the daily routine of the organization. You even begin to enjoy it. You are given the easiest tasks and are often paired up with Jungwoo, who you already know and who readily helps you understand things. You wonder how many new initiates were afforded the same privilege upon joining. Taeyong even invites you to his office again a few times this week for more wine and story time sessions. You’re happy to see him, but this time, you’re careful to keep a distance and not drink too much lest you repeat what almost happened the other night. Kissing him would make things… complicated, even more than they are now. You're not sure you’ll go back to Yuta if you do, no matter how much you want to kiss him. Taeyong seems to notice your distance and keeps a respectful space. You try not to feel disappointed that he does.

From the outside, it becomes evident that everyone else views you differently. They either avoid you completely or are overly respectful and almost treat you as their boss. You ponder Jungwoo’s words earlier, that everyone will take notice of Taeyong’s favoritism of you. The regularly scheduled rendezvous office sessions with their Boss probably aren't helping. You wonder if your preferential treatment will invite resentment from anyone. So far, everyone has been respectful to you, but by the end of the week, you get your answer.

You get your answer to two things, actually. One, your preferential treatment definitely does invite someone’s resentment. Two, you couldn't imagine Taeyong being ruthless. You said that before today. On the way to Taeyong’s office one day for another meet up, one of the male employees lingers behind you, the same one you’ve seen around with a perpetual stink eye and a bad attitude. You don’t recall exactly what happens, only that he’s spitting insults at you as he follows that steadily grow to shouting. 

“Outsider!” He shouts. “You didn’t even go through the initiation and you’re on more classified projects than I am!? Hell, you’re probably making more money than me.” You shoot him a glare without a word. You’re almost to Taeyong’s office. The brute will leave you alone then.

“Doesn’t even have the decency to turn around,” he growls. “Fucking bitch.” Then, his hand is in your hair, yanking you backwards sharply against his chest. The pain is like needles shooting throughout your scalp, stars and tears bursting from your eyes. Despite the shock, your training kicks in immediately, and you elbow him in the ribs so that he keels over. He lets go of your hair, giving you the chance to turn around and go for a kick to the chest.

You don’t have a chance to do anything else before someone is throwing him off of you. He’s knocked into the wall of the hallway before he falls down. Taeyong is bent over him, clutching the man’s jacket until his knuckles turn white to lift him partly off the ground. He is absolutely furious, something you have never ever seen before, yelling something that you don't register. Then, he punches him in the face. Other people are shouting and running down the hall towards you three. Taeyong’s eyes are hard, jaw clenched, his fist cocked and pulled back as if to punch the man again. You step forward, hands finding his shoulders and stepping him away from the man groaning on the floor. Taeyong’s eyes are cold and glaring.

“I want him out!” He shouts, uncharacteristic, pointing past your shoulder. “I want him stripped of everything, all clearances, documents, his name on everything. I want him out of here and dropped at a police station! He can rot in jail for all I care!” People rush to do his bidding, restraining the groaning man and lifting him off the ground. An ugly bruise is already forming on his cheek where Taeyong punched him. You tug him into his office and shut the large door closed. The commotion and noise from outside is muffled here in the silence of his room. Taeyong however is still restless. His chest is heaving in anger, jaw clenching as he paces back and forth. He’s clutching his one fist, which seems slightly swollen. 

“That fucking pig.” He growls, taking you back. You’ve never even heard him curse before today. “What the hell was he thinking!? Putting his hands on…” he focuses on you, softening. “Did he touch you? Did he hurt you? Of course he hurt you, I saw him-“ his voice wavers before becoming harsh again. “I swear to God I will-“

“Taeyong, hey, look at me,” you reach for his arms to stop him from pacing. He stops moving and closes his eyes to take a deep breath. In the next moment, he exhales and opens his eyes to gaze at you, his stunning eyes that you’ve loved for years. Your heart softens. You don’t want him to be in such pain. 

“I’m sorry. I’m not usually like this,” he mumbles.

“Well, he got what he deserved. You just beat me to the punch.” 

“It’s not that. I’m not this jittery or restless. I’ve dealt with worse than these kind of people before. I would’ve instructed someone else to restrain him but when I saw that it was you, I…” he trails off, eyes growing unfocused.

“Are you okay?” You cup his bruised hand.

His eyes flit back to you. “You’re asking me?” He releases another breath, thinks for a moment and shakes his head. “No I’m not,” his voice wavers.

You push forward and hug him gently. You wonder if it’s been a long time since he’s lost his composure. “I’m okay. I'm here and I'm okay.” You can feel him trembling against you and slowly relax, arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you tightly against him. Then he gives in, inhaling your scent and burying his face in your neck. 

“You’re okay,” he repeats, a bit shakily. You’re taken aback about how absolutely undone he is, how worried, how much he cares for you. It might even be a trauma response from you disappearing from his life all those years ago without a word.

A lump forms in your throat. “I’m sorry,” you mumble into his shoulder. He pulls away in confusion, his wonderful eyes roaming your face in question. “Not for this. I’m sorry I left. I.. must have put you through so much pain.”

His eyelids flutter, arms around you squeezing tighter. It’s ridiculously comforting. “That wasn’t your fault.” You stay silent, tucking your chin back onto his shoulder, heart feeling heavy. “I’m sorry for what that pig did to you.” His voice is harsh, and you can feel his jaw clenching against your shoulder. “He was always a shady guy, harassing other members.” 

You pull away slightly. “It's okay, it's not my first time.” He looks at you with such disturbed anguish you feel bad for saying anything. “But I'm okay. I'm alright.” 

He sighs and gives you a thin smile. Then, he blinks and remembers to let you go. Your arms detangle from each other and you stand there, gazing silently, before he speaks. “I’m sure you could have taken him,” he smiles.

“Yes, I could have,” you grin. 

He smiles a bit proudly, then looks to the door. “I should.. take care of the commotion outside.”

You nod. “Sure.. and thank you.”

He looks confused then looks away, scratching his neck “You don't have to thank me. It was… well I didn’t even process what I was doing when I did it.”

You smile. “Still, I got to see another side of you.”

He flushes, looking away. “And you… you like it?”

You shrug. “I finally know why you're a mob boss.”

He smiles, his expression almost relieved, before he chuckles and takes his leave. When he disappears into the hallway outside, you feel an ache from the empty feeling of missing his arms around you. When you get home and Yuta calls, there's no information you want to give him. “What did you learn this week?”

“Nothing.”

Silence fills the room for a moment. “Are you serious? You’ve been there for a week now and there's no new info?” 

“What do you want to know, Yuta?” You snap. The deceptiveness of this mission has finally taken its toll on you. Seeing Taeyong drop everything to defend you today is enough to make you not want to help Yuta again. 

“I don’t know! Key operations? Shipment drop-offs? Members' names? Where can we hurt them the most, Y/n!?”

You groan internally, wishing you can just hang up. You remember finishing your task with Jungwoo in picking a drop off location for a shipment. You figure this is relatively harmless information to keep Yuta off your back. “They’re dropping off some important shipment for some high profile clients, probably government officials, tomorrow at eleven at the hotel on twelfth street. Maybe if you intercept them you can get that shipment and hurt Taeyong’s operations.”

“Taeyong? You’re not calling him the Scorpion anymore?”

You curse mentally. “Scorpion, sorry.”

There’s silence from the other line. “This information is barely useful but I’ll take it.” He pauses. “Do you remember where your loyalty lies?”

You roll your eyes. “Of course.”

“Good. Because the minute it changes, I’ll have you extracted from there.” He hangs up abruptly. It’s a threat. He knows your allegiance has changed. Although, it’s not as if you tried very hard to conceal that fact.

...

You decide to go in late the next day after lunch, mainly because you were tossing and turning awake all night. But the minute you walk into the office, the air is different. Everyone is tense and nervously mumbling. You approach Jungwoo at his desk who also looks more nervous than usual. You take in his bouncing leg and him peering at the computer monitor, reading an email intently. He barely notices when you slide into the chair next to him. “What’s wrong with everybody today?” Jungwoo startles at your voice, but instead of greeting you with a warm smile as he usually does, he looks at you sympathetically. You gaze at him, your smile fading. “Jungwoo, what is it?”

“Taeyong was shot.”

“What!?” you stand up so fast, the chair tips over and clatters to the floor behind you. He stands up with you, hands up in a placating gesture.

“Listen, he’s fine! He was meeting with some government officials today during our dropoff location and somehow, someone seemed to know he was there and that he was the Scorpion. They tried to take him out.” You are paralyzed, a wave of nauseas guilt hitting you all at once. “I’m not sure what followed. There was a scuffle of some kind, maybe he fought the gunman after being shot.. the details were unclear. It was a bullet graze to his shoulder and a few other injuries from the scuffle. He got checked at the hospital and they bandaged him up. He’s resting at home now. But he’s kind of depressed and won’t let anyone in, he said, though I think he’ll make an exception for you.”

Your heart flips. “Can I see him?” He nods and both of you hurriedly take your leave and get into Jungwoo’s car to drive to Taeyong’s home. His “home” turns out to be a ridiculously sized penthouse in a ridiculously sized high rise luxury apartment. “I guess the salary is good,” you mumble, peering up at the building from your window.

Jungwoo snorts. “You have no idea.” You enter the equally ridiculously luxurious lobby and Jungwoo escorts you to a special elevator that seems off limits to everyone else. “This will take you directly to his apartment.” He says, ushering you inside the elevator and pulling out a card from his wallet. “Just text me to let me know when you want me to take you home.”

You watch him scan the card against a pad and step back out of the elevator. “Thank you, Jungwoo,” you say sincerely.

He gives a nod. “Just make sure he’s alright.”

Then, the doors close, cutting off your view of him, before you’re taken directly to the top floor. With a ding, the doors open, revealing polished marble floor and ceiling. You step through hesitantly. His penthouse is much like his office, oversized and luxurious. It’s two stories tall with marble walls and floor, and a floor to ceiling window view of the city skyline in the living room that stops your breath. You wonder if he lives in this entire place alone, as you wander through the space. Somehow, you find your way to his bedroom and knock on the door. You hear a groan from the other end. “I said go away, Jungwoo, I don’t want-“

“It’s me.” Silence answers from the other side before you hear a small “come in.”Your heart leaps into your throat when you spot him lying on the bed with a bloody bandage wrapped around his shoulder. Other cuts and bruises litter his arms and face, and probably his torso which are obscured by his shirt. Tears sting your eyes. You see people injured everyday as part of your job but this is not bearable. Even worse, this is all your fault, all because you told Yuta that intel about the drop off. Now Taeyong’s injured, and nearly died because of you. You’ve never felt so disgusted with yourself. “Oh.. oh no,” you hold back a sob as you approach his bed. 

Taeyong gazes up at you, no doubt able to see your stress. He even offers a small smile as you sit down gently at the edge of the bed, your stomach churning at the bloodied bandage on his shoulder. “I’m guessing I’ve looked better?” He smiles, though his eyes are tired. You blink back your tears, not even processing his humor. Your hand comes up to hover over his cheek. He gazes up at you with what looks like hope. You banish all doubts and gently cup his cheek, finger stroking his slightly bruised skin. His eyes flutter closed and he nuzzles your hand immediately. Your heart squeezes in pain and affection.

“Taeyong, I…” you swallow a heavy breath. What can you say? You’re sorry? Sorry for not protecting him? Sorry this is all your fault? Sorry, you were sent here as a spy to gather intel and you’ve been lying to his face this entire time? Guilt stabs at you ruthlessly, as you gaze down at this sweet boy meant for a softer life than this. Instead of speaking, you take clean cloth nearby and gently wipe a dirt smudge from his cheek. He watches you silently, his eyes like the starry night sky that you fight not to focus on. You spot a deep bruise on his wrist, and take another clean bandage to wrap around it. His hand is light in yours, his eyes watching you carefully. Once you’re done, you can't help but raise his hand to your lips and kiss his wrist reverently. His chest stutters in breath. Cuts on his fingers and the back of his hand catch your eye this time. You take another bandage and clean each one, kissing them too, one by one. His eyes turn soft, always soft when they’re on you.

“Does it hurt?” You ask softly when you’re done.

“Not anymore.” 

You flush, turning back to his fingers, stroking them gently with your own. ‘Remember how I used to put bandaids on you when you fell on the playground?”

He smiles and the butterflies take flight in your stomach. “Of course. You’d grumble that it’s not that bad while putting it on and looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like… like I’m the most precious thing in the world,” he says softly, “Like you love me. Like how you’re doing right now.”

You fall completely silent, the breaths halting in your chest. Wordless gazes are exchanged. Then, he reaches up with his good hand, tangles his fingers in your hair, and pulls you down to kiss him. You don’t resist and melt so fast against his lips it's almost embarrassing, but he could never make you feel embarrassed. His kiss is soft, reverent, and gentle. You sigh into his lips as he strokes your hair gently. Warmth blooms and spreads to every inch inside of you until he pulls away with soft lidded eyes. Your forehead rests on his. Both your eyes are closed with breaths mingling as you both savor the moment after so many years of waiting. Then, he kisses your forehead and your heart twists again, with guilt and love and pain and all. 

“Taeyong I…” you struggle and he notices. His newly bandaged hand comes up to stroke your cheek in comfort as he nuzzles your nose. “I’m so sorry.”

He takes it as you being sorry for his injuries, because he doesn't know. Doesn’t know you’re a traitor. “Don’t be. I was careless.”

You can’t even object and explain that he never did anything wrong. Frustration wells up inside you. “After all these years I just want to be with you.” 

It’s a careless slip, a frustrated wish voiced aloud when it was meant to be kept buried in your thoughts. But it’s too late. A light kindles in Taeyong’s eyes that replaces all the tiredness they held before. His lips lift into a beautiful smile that makes your heart flutter in all ways and you realize you are doomed. You never had a chance against him.

“Then be with me.”

...

After more bandages and kisses, you don’t want to leave Taeyong, but know he needs rest. When you let him know as much, he pouts and asks you to stay. You give him a final kiss to the forehead in response and tell him you’ll be back tomorrow. He lets you go after that. Literally. He was holding onto your wrist to prevent you from leaving. 

With your heart thumping and affection running high, you give Jungwoo a call and ask him to pick you up and drop you back at your place. You thank him profusely for doing it so late in the night. When you step through the door, you spot the secret cell phone that Yuta gave you lying on the table, and feel anger rip through your body. It was Yuta. He took your intel about the drop off and sent men there to steal or sabotage it or who knows what else. When they saw Taeyong, they couldn’t pass up the opportunity to kill the boss. It’s a miracle Taeyong even made it out alive. You grit your teeth and pick up the phone. A notification pops up with 3 missed calls from Yuta. Without another thought, you call him back. It goes straight to voicemail. You figure. It’s late in the night so you decide to leave a message. As soon as you hear the beep, you growl into the phone. “The deal’s off. I can't do it and I’m not coming back.”

You hang up and pull out your own personal phone, holding the two cells side by side in your hands. Yuta’s tracking both of them. You make up your mind to have both destroyed and dumped tomorrow.

... 

You feel much freer going to work after that voicemail for Yuta and destroying both your phones. You let Jungwoo know you need a new phone and it takes no effort for him to get you one. Besides this, it takes a few weeks for Taeyong’s shoulder to heal. He misses work the entire time and rests at home. You visit him after work each day and take your own car so as to not bother Jungwoo. Most of the evenings and nights are spent changing his bandages, talking and sharing sweet kisses.

“It's nice to be taken care of,” he comments, sitting on the edge of the bed. He has a tank top and you try not to fixate on the muscles of his arms as you remove his shoulder gauze. 

“No one’s ever taken care of you while injured?” You ask, putting some ointment on his shoulder wounds. He winces a little and you give him an apologetic look.

“Well, I live mostly by myself. And I've never been this injured before. Jungwoo does have access in case of an emergency and he needs to get me. But other than that, no one knows I live here.”

You lift his arm slightly to wrap the gauze over and around his shoulder. His eyes roam your face, watching your concentrated features. “But this giant penthouse and no one ever comes by? That’s lonely. Especially knowing you,” you smile.

He smiles back before scratching his ear. “Uh, well.. I’m not entirely alone here. Sometimes my past partners would stay here.”

“Past partners?”

“Yeah.. you know, relationships.”

“Oh,” you say. Of course he hasn’t been single, you mentally note, just look at him. The thought makes you feel strange, though. You’ve missed such a huge chunk of each other’s lives but feel like you’ve known him forever. You finish wrapping the bandage around his shoulder.

“But I'm glad you’re here and not.. them or anyone else,” he manages out. “To be honest,” he laughs, looking down at his hands, the cuts having healed long ago. “I was looking for you in those people, but never quite found you.”

Your heart melts, eyes taking in the way he’s bent forward, avoiding your own. You cup his cheeks, bending over to kiss his forehead. “I was looking for you too all these years.”

He glances up and smiles slowly. “Really?” You nod. “So, we wasted our time?”

Your thumb strokes his cheek, and you watch the way his eyes flutter. “I suppose we did.”

“Well, in that case, we’d better make up for it.” He wraps his arms around your waist and tugs you into his chest so hard you both topple backwards onto the mattress.

Surprised laughter bursts from you, hands trying to push him off as he rolls you to the side and onto the bed. “You’re injured! Stop it!” you say between laughs.

He tries to prop himself on the bed with you underneath him, eyes dancing with amusement. “I'm the kingpin of the greatest mob empire. A little shoulder wound won’t - ow!” his shoulder flinches as he puts pressure on it.

Concern floods your chest. “See, I told you.” You maneuver him to rest flat on the bed against his pillow once again. “You need to rest, oh great kingpin lord of everything.”

Unbelievably, he pouts. So you acquiesce and lean over to kiss him. He hums happily, threading his hands through your hair. When you pull back, his eyes are soft. “Can you stay tonight?” You glance at his shoulder but he tugs at your arm. “Please? I don’t get sleep anyway when you’re not here.”

You swallow, gazing at his pleading eyes. “Of course.” A smile blooms on his face before he makes room for you to lie down next to him. Your body is a mess of nerves and butterflies but once you’ve settled in his soft sheets, he immediately wraps his good arm around your waist and bends forwards to kiss your forehead.

“Goodnight Y/n,” he sighs, snuggling closer. 

“Goodnight,” you echo, feeling more comfortable than you have in a long time. 

...

The next day, you wake up feeling well rested for the first time in your life. Taeyong’s body is plastered to your back, his good arm wrapped around your waist like a vice. The sunlight filters through his window blinds, falling onto his soundly sleeping face like bars of gold, and you think, just here and now, life is perfect. You’re not sure you’ve ever said that before. 

You flip over to see him. Your heart lurches at his peacefully sleeping face. He looks like an angel. You push back his hair from his eyes and lean over to press a slow kiss to his temple.

He stirs, inhaling. “Hmm, what was that for?” he asks sleepily, eyes still closed. 

You chuckle at his sleepy smile.“Nothing. You looked cute.”

He blinks open one eye. You giggle at his messy hair. “Cute, huh? I’m the mob kingpin lord of everything and you call me cute?” he mumbles sleepily.

“Hmm, definitely the cutest king for sure.”

He chuckles, reaches his arms over his head to stretch but flinches in pain, bringing his arm back down. “Ah, still sensitive.”

Worry flashes through you. “Are you sure you wanna come in today?”

“Yeah, it's been over a week and I'm feeling much better. Besides, a mob can't run without its cute boss.” He mumbles sleepily, throwing his good arm around your waist again. You gaze at him longer, your heart fluttering. It’s a slow realization that also happens all at once somehow - you want this everyday, for as long as you imagine. It grows worse the longer you stare at him. He cracks an eye open. “What?” 

It’s impossible to hold it back now no matter how much you try. “I love you.”

He grows still, both eyes flying open as he gazes at you in slight surprise. “What?”

You run your fingers through his soft strands again, pushing them away from his eyes, your heart lurching. “I love you.” Your voice is soft, almost as if you’ll shatter him.

Taeyong stares for a moment before pulling you in to kiss you, morning breath and all, but you can’t give a care in the world. When he finally lets go, he’s grinning from ear to ear. “I love you too. So much.” You laugh in disbelief as he cups your cheek and presses his forehead to yours. “To be honest, I’ve been having trouble holding those words back since the first day you came here.” Love flares in his eyes. “I loved you even before this. I’ve loved you since childhood.”

You’re slightly surprised at the sting of tears in your eyes. “I’ve loved you since then too.” 

Taeyong cups your cheeks and presses short kisses again and again on your lips, saying I love you between each one. You chuckle, blinking back tears as you accept them. Then, he pushes aside the heavy comforter, and rolls you over so that he’s on top, kissing and gently stroking your hair, making your heart lurch over and over again. Soon, his short kisses become longer until your mouths are pushing and pulling like tides. You kiss until your lungs burn. When you pull back, gasping for breath, he presses his forehead to yours. 

“Y/n,” he mumbles reverently. Your fingers skit down his jaw to the nape of his neck. He shivers in response, hot breath fanning your lips. You pull him impossibly closer to you and he meets your lips again. His tongue slips through your lips this time and sends sparks through your stomach. It grazes your own tongue, and you sigh, letting yourself melt into him, his warmth and body heat, the unbelievable feeling of being in his arms, his fringes tickling your forehead, his breath fanning your face. You kiss until you can't take it anymore.

He whines a little as you pull away once again. You laugh breathily, watching him balance on his propped arms over you. “Isn’t your shoulder hurting like that?”

He gives you a boyish, lopsided smile. “Honestly, my shoulder has been hurting the entire time, but I don't care.” In horror, you try to rip away from him but he easily drags you back and pins you to the bed without so much as a retort. His fingers intertwine with yours and hold them against the pillow. 

“For a cute mob boss, you’re pretty strong,” you remark. He only grins and buries his head in your neck, pressing kisses down the skin. More electricity buzzes through your body. His kisses are hot and wet and you arch when he meets a pulse point. Your voice comes out shaky. “Taeyong, if you keep going, I won't be able to-“

“Me neither,” he answers. His voice is a different color than usual, one that you haven't heard before. It’s gravelly and rough. Combined with his body insistently pressing yours into the mattress and his kisses to your neck, your body turns into a mess of tingles and butterflies. 

His teeth nips your pulse point and you gasp, pressing your hips against his slightly. He picks up on this imperceptible movement and rolls his hips against yours with a low groan. You can feel him through his pants, and you arch and moan at the friction. Your hands clutch the cloth of his tank top from his back until it's bunched in your fist. He pulls back a small to observe your reaction, his pupils dilated.

His hand comes up to touch your face reverently. “Y/n, do you want to…”

“Yes, keep going, please.” You should be ashamed at how easily you beg, but you could never feel that way for him, especially with the way his pupils dilate and his breath comes out ragged.

“How far.. do you want to go?”

“Everything, I want everything from you,” you press your head to his, feeling strangely emotional. “I just want you, please.” He seems still for a moment, gorgeous dark eyes boring into yours. The uneven breaths fill the silence, as if he were savoring this moment. Then he reaches down , fingers slipping inside your pants, and pressing your clit through panties. A moan falls from your lips, your hips arching towards his touch. His dark eyes drink in every reaction. Then, he moves to suck your neck again and you’re clutching his tank top harshly as he works your clit, moaning into his ear. You have half a mind to drag his tank top half way up his chest until he gets the idea and pulls away from you. He sits up, slipping it over his head, and tosses it to the side, revealing his bare skin with tattoos littered here and there. When he falls back to you, carefully supporting his injured shoulder, you drag him in for a kiss. “You are so beautiful.”

He moans slightly into your mouth, tongues meeting again before pulling away. “I can say the same for you.” He eyes your shirt. “Can I?”

“Yes,” you manage out.

His lithe hands peel your shirt up and over your head. His eyes roam over your torso with a bated breath as you sit up a little and undo your bra. It’s a few seconds of awed silence once you lie back down before his hot mouth planting on your nipple. You arch and moan loudly, your eyes clenching shut. “Oh god.”

He strips your pants and underwear from you in one movement. His hand returns to your clit though this time, his finger slides into your core, stretching your walls. A moan tumbles from your lips as he comes up to press kisses to your face. “My love,” he calls gently as you moan again, “my Y/n.” Sparks fly behind your eyes in your pleasure. Your head presses back against the pillow and you let out a particularly loud moan. Then, he rips his hand away as well as his mouth and you’re left teetering, then coming back down the way you came, unsatisfied. You let out a whine but he sits up, panting harshly, grabbing a condom from the drawer in his nightstand and settles back between your legs. He gives you another kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Your heart thrums each time you say it. Then he’s slipping inside you, stretching you until your eyes flutter closed. You’re full and you realize this is how you've always belonged, how you were always supposed to be. He thrusts slowly, lips hovering over yours or pressing all over your face, his eyes fluttering when you squeeze around him. You realize this is different from all the other partners you’ve ever been with. It feels like he fills you with life , every second he looks at you or smiles or walks into a room, he fills you with purpose.

You live for his moans, unabashed and light and airy and beautiful. It makes you lose yourself so much faster. His lithe hands clutch the bedsheets beside you, lips grazing your neck, hair tickling your face. You realize you want him all the time, near you all the time, you want this forever. You memorize everything, his touch, his scent, his features screwed up in the pleasure you give him. You’d give him anything. You memorize him until he hits a spot inside you that has your brain coming to a halt. He notices easily, lifts one of your legs to hook over his good arm, and hits it again, much more intense this time, until you're shivering and arching, your mind turning to mush. Sweet praises fall from his lips as he pushes into you. You’re perfect, you’re so beautiful, my love.

My love. 

You contract around him like a vice, burying your head in his neck, muffling the moan bordering on a scream as you come apart. He shivers as your nails dig into his back and halts his movements until your walls grant his cock mercy enough to move again. He finishes the last few thrusts until he's pressing deep inside you with a loud groan, and you vaguely think you wouldn’t mind hearing that sound forever. He collapses on top of you, panting and breathing harshly but you couldn't care less about his weight squeezing you. Your hands tiredly comb through his hair, littering kisses along his forehead while he catches his breath against your chest. Pleasure brims and hums through your body and mind as you relish the feeling of him in your arms. After a few beats, he lifts his head up just enough to kiss you. “I love you.” 

You smile, brushing back his sweaty fringes. “I love you, too.” You’re rewarded with a beautiful smile before he rests his head back on your chest. “Wait, wasn’t your shoulder hurting this entire time?” 

He makes no effort to move. “Yes, but I didn't care.” You groan and he only chuckles against your skin.  

...

You end up going a little late to work that day. Taeyong doesn’t seem to mind, though. He seems content enough to brush his teeth with you, shower, change into office clothes, grab breakfast and drive you to work in his car, even though you have your own parked in the garage. You’re guessing it's the inkling of domestic bliss that’s keeping a smile on his face and making him leisurely savor each mundane moment with you this morning. As for you, it’s something you never knew you needed. It’s easy to imagine a life like this and only this, with none of the complications. Taeyong looks over at you in the passenger seat with a smile, bright eyes, so many times during the drive to the office that you’re laughing. “What is it?”

He chuckles and shakes his head, turning back to the road again. “Nothing.” You let it go, but your heart flutters. Once you step through the lobby, the busy chatting stops and are replaced by jeers of welcome aimed at Taeyong after his week’s absence. Soon after, though, their curious eyes are trained on you. It’s obvious you came in the same car together and therefore probably from the same place since you usually drive yourself. If anyone had any suspicions before about you both, they definitely know for sure now. Once you and Taeyong enter the elevator, he pulls you close and kisses you once again. “I love you,” he smiles.

You laugh, adjusting his tie. “I love you too. Not tired of saying it?”

The way he looks at you, eyes half lidded, an amused smile across his lips as if you’re the most perfect thing in the world, makes you feel foolish for even asking. “No. And I never will be.”

Your heart flutters, biting back your smile. “Me neither.”

He grins this time and kisses your forehead. Then, he deflates a little. “I wont see you much today.” His fingers brush a lock of your hair. “But maybe by the end of the day, you can swing by my office?”

“Deal,” you agree, snaking your arms over his shoulders. “We'll go home together after?”

“Of course,” he smiles, leaning forward to kiss you one more time before the elevator doors ding open at the top floor. He grins again and pulls away. “I love you.”

You laugh. “I love you, too.” You go your separate ways. When you approach Jungwoo’s desk, he’s already smiling, face tilted and propped on his hand. 

“You’re in a good mood.” Jungwoo comments.

Your steps falter. “Ah.. I’ve uh…”

“No need to explain. Everyone saw you two come in together. The boss is practically bouncing with each step,” he smiles knowingly, turning back to his computer. “It’s good that he looks better though. Everyone was worried. Thanks for taking care of him.” He says, glancing up at you. “For all those days.”

Your cheeks burn. “How did you know-“ But Jungwoo gives you a look that makes you feel foolish for even asking. You plop down in the chair next to him, propping your bag against the desk. “Of course you know.”

“Actually, you might see more of him today. He has a client meeting at a high end club and I’m guessing he’ll take you as a date.”

“Really? Why does he need a date?”

He shrugs, crumpling up a piece of paper in his hands. “He doesn’t.” He throws it in the basket. “But he’ll ask you anyway.” He grins.

You watch him clean up his desk of unneeded and old documents. “You’re very perceptive of people aren't you?”

Jungwoo smiles. “It’s my job. I recruited you, remember? I find out things about people.” He says a matter of factly before changing the subject. “So, a newbie whose first mission is with the Boss himself. If no one was sure of your privilege, they’re sure now.”

You exhale, shrugging. “I'm pretty sure everyone is sure of it by now. I just hope I don't get attacked again.”

Jungwoo freezes then, concern flooding his eyes as he turns to face you. “I never asked, how are you feeling after that?”

You shrug. “I'm fine, I guess. I’ve dealt with worse.”

Jungwoo nods slowly. “Taeyong was angrier than I’d ever seen him. He made sure we removed that guy. But please know he was an outlier. People may not be the friendliest here but everyone’s generally happy to have you around.” He cups your hand in comfort, sincerity evident in his eyes. “I hope you always feel safe here.” He pauses to smile. “Even though we're an illegal organization.”

You wordlessly listen to Jungwoo, feeling strangely touched. Yuta never made you feel like this. “Thank you,” you say, and you mean it. 

He gives you a warm smile that makes you feel even softer. “Now come on, we have a lot of work to do today and many things to discuss.”

“Like what?”

“Like, did you sleep over at Taeyong’s last night?” He grins, leaning over in interest. You shove his arm, pulling peals of laughter from his lips. The rest of the day passes with jokes and work, with you secretly counting down the hours until you can visit Taeyong in his office. It seems as if an eternity passes until Taeyong himself is strolling onto the main floor and approaching Jungwoo’s desk. 

“Hey guys,” he greets. Jungwoo glances at him with a hint of surprise. You figure this is an unusual occurrence since Taeyong usually summons people to his office. “I was just wondering if I could borrow Y/n in my office for a second, if I’m not interrupting or anything.” Taeyong seems a bit hesitant.

Jungwoo shakes his head slowly. “You’re never interrupting anything. You're the Boss.”

Taeyong blinks. “R-Right…” he turns to you. “Is it okay with you?”

Jungwoo watches the exchange with growing interest. You try to ignore him and stand up from your seat. “Of course it is.”

“Great,” Taeyong says, before waving at Jungwoo, which you also assume to be unusual given Jungwoo’s perplexed expression “Bye, Jungwoo.”

Jungwoo waves slightly in confusion. “Bye…?” He watches until you two disappear from sight.

Taeyong curses once you’re out of earshot. The laughter you’re holding back spills from your lips. “What was that?”

He slows enough to allow you to fall in line with his walking. “I have no idea. I just.. felt weird beckoning you to my office chamber as if you’re my maid or something.” He shakes his head. “God, Jungwoo’s going to think something is wrong with me.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t,” you reply, biting back a smile. So, he feels weird about you calling him Boss and also about ordering you around. It’s strangely sweet in its own way, how a man with all the power at his hands refuses to see you as anything but his equal. 

He drags open one massive door to his office and ushers you inside. Once you’re in, he shuts the door, pulls you to his chest and kisses you. “Mmm what are these for?” You ask when his long kiss dissolves into small short sweet ones littered on your lips. 

“I just missed you all day. And missed kissing you all day.” You giggle as he turns to littering kisses over your face. Your hand wraps around his tie and tugs him to you abruptly so that he can kiss you properly on the lips. He makes a soft noise that travels like electricity through your body. The kiss turns deep once again, your hands coming up to comb through his soft hair. When you pull away, your breaths are shallow and his gaze is intense. “Believe it or not, I actually have work for us to do.”

You chuckle. “Jungwoo told me. We’re going to some high end club? 

He takes a moment to gather himself before pulling away from you. “Yes, just to visit a client we’re sorting out a contract with.” 

Your nerves twist in your stomach. You remember the last meeting with a client ended in a gunfight. Your eyes settle on his shoulder, where you can still see the bandage underneath his office shirt. “Are you sure?”

He glances at you and sees the concern in your eyes. “Don’t worry. I’ll be safe,” he smiles reassuringly. “To be honest, I still don’t know why I was targeted that day and by whom. I’ve ordered everyone to track them down, but we haven't found any clues.” He runs his fingers through his hair. “It’s probably a rival gang that somehow got our info.”

Your blood turns to ice. You haven’t even told him about what happened that day, about where you’re from and the truth about why you’re here. You can sell out Yuta right now. You can give Taeyong all the information and help him take down your former leader. But the words fail you and you realize that you can’t. You’ve spent a decade working under Yuta, longer than you’ve even known Taeyong. As much as you hate it, your loyalty to Yuta are your chains. You can’t rat him out. And worse, even if you do, what if Taeyong hates you? What if he sends you away and never wants to see you again? What if you have to return to Yuta? Return to a cold, meaningless life full of violence and crime, devoid of sunshine and sleepy smiles and slow mornings.

You swallow back any words and stay silent. You feel awful. You’re a liar. You never want to lie to Taeyong, ever. But you’re a coward and you don’t know what to do. Even if he doesn’t know now, he will find out the truth eventually and hate you then. Taeyong seems to notice your intense conflict and mistakes it for concern. He steps towards you, a soft smile finding his lips that nearly makes the terrible thoughts melt away. “I know you feel bad, but it's not your fault that I was injured,” he takes your hand gently in his. “Besides, I don't think any sniper will be able to find me at a strip club.”

Your whirling thoughts pause momentarily. “We’re going to a strip club?”

“It’s technically a gentleman’s club. It’s just a meeting with an old client. She runs the whole place and makes quite a lot of money from it. She wants us to protect her territory. A lot of members of the criminal underground frequent there and have been stepping out of line and making her workers uncomfortable. The security they have there doesn't intimidate these kinds of men enough. She wants mob protection, so these criminals will feel less inclined to do whatever they want.” 

You nod. “It’s an honorable cause. But if you’ve met her before, why am I coming?”

His eyes slide away from yours in embarrassment. “Because.. I’m uh… they like me over there,” he flushes a light pink, “I’ve gotten.. too much attention when I went alone in the past. I might as well show them that I'm taken.”

The image of women and probably men hanging over Taeyong as he talks business, flirting with him, their fingernails running down his chest, makes your insides twist in jealousy. Yes, you figure, you should be there. “Yes, you are taken.” You grip his tie and watch his eyes flare. You chuckle and mentally note his reaction. “So, this is our first date?”

He snorts. “At a strip club? No way. I'll plan a much better one than that.”

“I thought you said it’s a gentleman’s club.”

He laughs. “Come on, let’s head out. We’ll have to dress up a little.” You both stop by your apartment to pick up some fancy clothes and make up before driving over to his place to get ready. By time you change, style your hair, apply makeup and jewelry, the sun sets and the evening sky’s moonlight glows through the windows. When you walk into the living room and find Taeyong in a tuxedo, silver cuffs, and his hair neatly combed back, your heart nearly stops in your chest. He has a similar reaction when he spots you. “Wow.” He stares breathlessly for a moment before blinking back to reality. “Oh no, maybe I should go alone. This isn't a good idea.”

“What? Why?”

His eyes run over you once again. “Because you’re beautiful. Too beautiful. There's going to be too many sleazy criminals there. They’re already harassing the workers. They’re not going to leave you alone.”

“I’ll be fine. I can handle myself. Besides, do you think I’m the only one who looks good? I’m not letting you go there alone looking like that.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re too beautiful too,” you echo his words, watching him flush. Then, because you’re feeling playful and curious, you decide to push further. “And because you’re mine.” His eyes flare. You see him swallow imperceptibly. You don't know why it feels good to see him like this, but you want to do it some more. “They’ll keep away if they know what's good for them.”

His breath catches in his throat. He swallows again and seems to blink himself back to reality. “F…fine, then. Just tell anyone who asks that you’re with me and I'll say that I'm with you.”

“Tell them that I'm yours and you’re mine. Understood,” you grin.

“Ah… right,” he mumbles, unable to find a suitable reply. A pretty blush spreads across his cheeks as his eyes slide away from yours. It never fails to satisfy you. He pauses, then gently cups your face and brings you close to kiss you. He pulls away and gives you a warm smile. “Okay, let's go."

...

You know that gentleman’s clubs are just higher end strip clubs, but this one is so far beyond anything you've seen before. As you walk in, you’re hit with the sight of patrons dressed in black tie, waiters carrying flat dishes holding unknown colorful alcoholic drinks, curved leather booths scattered throughout the space, crystal chandeliers hanging overhead. “I can see how this owner can afford us,” you mutter. Your arm is looped through Taeyong’s as he guides you through the area and towards the back rooms. You pass by people chatting, drinking, smoking, and eventually spot the main stage. Some dancers are already there, dressed in sparkly two pieces. 

Some of the girls passing by to get to the stage notice Taeyong and smile brightly at him. Some  touch his shoulders and arms, bat their eyelashes, give cherry lipped smiles, even though you’re quite literally hanging off his arm. You suppose your presence here doesn’t spurn any of them in the slightest. Taeyong guides you into one back room that looks like a luxurious private meeting room of sorts. An older woman adorned in jewels and a shimmering gown is seated upon an expensive looking armchair with a lit cigarette between her painted nails. A few girls stand or are seated around her. They smile and greet Taeyong when he walks in but their friendly gazes turn to questioning glares when they fall on you. It seems as if the air itself stops when you walk through the door. 

“Who is she?” the older woman asks, voice raspy probably from years of cigarette smoke. 

“She’s my date,” Taeyong answers easily.

They all eye you suspiciously. “This is the first girl you’ve brought in as a date. How long has she worked for you?”

“How is that relevant?” Taeyong counters.

The woman ignores him and glares at you. “How long, girl?”

“…A few weeks.”

Murmurs start from the girls. The older lady laughs and takes a drag from her cigarette. “And you let her in this high up already, working by your side? Ever the softie you are,” she notes. Taeyong flushes slightly. “You’re not worried she’s a spy?”

Your heart jumps. Taeyong’s brows furrow. “Of course not. And I’ve known her much longer than a few weeks. We just.. were separated for a long time.”

Her eyes narrow a bit. “That’s even more dangerous.” Her lips blow a puff of smoke. “She’s not allowed in here. That’s final.” 

Taeyong growls. “Listen, Mabel, we have a contract to sign.”

“Yes, with very sensitive content. Which unauthorized people should not be allowed to listen in on.” Her eyes coldly drag down your frame. “No matter how pretty.”

Taeyong looks like he’s about to argue but you stop him with a hand to his shoulder. “It’s fine,” you say, not wanting to complicate things. “I’ll wait outside.”

He glances at you, brows knitted. “Are you sure?” 

“Yes. It’s no big deal.” You give him a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes and step out the door. You hear a muffled sentence from Mabel of she’s got you bad, huh? through the door before you’re walking into the buzzing scene before you.You decide to sit at the bar because you need to be alone. Mabel’s words have triggered you. You feel awful, guilty, and disgusted. You have to tell him the truth, even if he hates you forever. But what if he doesn't hate you? What if he understands, forgives, and then wants you to help him take down Yuta? You pause. How can you take down Yuta?  You spent a decade under him, working for him, being with him through good and bad times. You can't just turn against him completely. You feel stuck. You seem to always feel stuck these days and it’s making you miserable. 

“Why the long face?” You hear a rich voice behind you. It rips you from your internal monologue. It’s a tall man with dark hair, twinkling eyes and a colorful suit. He sticks out easily among the crowd. You notice he already has a drink in hand.

“Ah.. just a bad day.” You say a bit dismissively, looking back down at your drink, hoping he’ll get the message and disappear. He doesn’t.

He nods in understanding and slides into the stool beside yours. “I’m Johnny. You Yong’s girl? I saw you come in with him.”

“Uh.. Yes.”

He nods, taking a sip from his glass. “He’s never brought anyone with him here before.”

You eye him. “Do you work here?”

“Nope. I’m from my own..um… group.” He smiles. “I come here sometimes as a patron.” Right, you think, Taeyong did mention that members of other criminal groups hung out around here. It’s the reason why the owner needs protection in the first place. Johnny bumps you slightly with his elbow. “So, why are you so sad? Is he not treating you well?” He smiles easily. “You can come to our side, you know, and work as a spy. You have the look. A beautiful woman with eyes like yours, who wouldn’t believe every word that comes from your lips?” Johnny smiles into his glass. “Best part is Taeyong doesn’t have to know.”

He’s joking, but you know it's the way deals are made underground. The thought of taking him up on his makes bile rise in your throat. “No.. I don’t…” you blanch. 

He notices the look on your face. “Too loyal?” he nods in understanding. “It’s not for everyone.” he glances at you. “But you never know.” He raises a hand to touch your chin. Your reflexes get the better of you and you grip his wrist before he can touch you. 

“Y/n,” Taeyong’s voice cuts through the air, catching both you and Johnny in surprise. He’s fuming. Similar to the time when the man jumped you in the office, his expression is hard and unmerciful. “Is he bothering you?” His eyes slide to Johnny who releases a breathy chuckle and turns back to sipping his drink.

“I was actually just leaving.” You slide out from the seat and walk past Taeyong who gives Johnny a lingering hard glare before following you out the door.

Once you’re seated in his car, Taeyong grips the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turn white. “What the hell was he doing? I knew I never liked him for a reason.”

“He’s from another organization?” You ask.

“It's a smaller one. It operates at the outskirts of the city. They’re one of the… less moral organizations that others need protection from. They’re a thorn in our side but nothing we can’t handle.” He glances over at you, concern replacing his irritation. “Are you okay? You look.. sick.”

You shake your head. “It’s nothing I… just…” you exhale tiredly. “It’s nothing.”

His worried eyes scan your face. “Is it because of what Mabel said? Don’t listen to her. I trust you with everything I have.” You gaze at him, speechless. His words make you feel infinitely worse after the night you’ve had.

When you return to his apartment, you change out of your dress like you can’t wait to get it off. Then, you mindlessly set to packing up the things you’ve left at Taeyong’s place while staying over the past few days. Taeyong watches you wordlessly, still in his suit, looking as if he’s about to say something, then changes his mind. The cycle repeats until he works up the courage. “Did you…want to stay over tonight too?”

You glance at him and try not to chuckle at his puppy face. “I would, but I have to go home and take out the trash and do the dishes and .. get new clothes,” you sigh, walking over to him. “But I’ll come visit later, okay?” Your fingers take to combing through his hair, coaxing a sigh from his lips.

“What if you moved in with me?” He says it so easily, lost in the feeling of your nails against his scalp. Your fingers pause and his words hang in the air. At your silence, his eyes fly open in panic. “Is that too soon? Of course it is. Fuck, forget I said anything.”

He so visibly retracts in on himself that you’re scrambling to reassure him. “No, no, I’m just… surprised is all.” 

He sighs almost helplessly, brows pinching in frustration. “I just see you here and .. when we spend time together, I..I want it… all the time… and nothing else,” he says heavily, grasping your hand and holding it up to his chest. His dark maroon eyes are large and heartfelt. “Sometimes I wish I just had a simple life. No mobs, no criminals, no territories or fighting. Just you and me in a house, living peacefully.”

Your eyes burn, pricking with tears. “Me too,” you whisper, unable to convey just how badly you’ve dreamt of the same dream for so long. “Me too.”

His expression is almost as if he’s witnessed a small miracle. He pulls you into the tightest hug, as if he can’t hold you close enough. You breathe him and relish the weight of his head tucked against yours, the smell of his lingering cologne and the comfort of his arms. “We can talk about it later,” he mumbles into your neck. “Can you stay over tonight, please?”

You forget about packing. “Of course.”

...

The next day when you come into work, you spot Jungwoo sporting a new type of pistol that spikes your curiosity. You ask him to show you the features and end up seated, facing him with the gun in your hands. Jungwoo’s fingers slide against your own as he guides yours to the grip and the trigger. "The safety lock is actually here," Jungwoo points out, turning over the unfamiliar silver pistol in your hands before guiding your finger to the small button. You test the weight of the gun with both of Jungwoo’s hands cupping yours. "It's comfortable, isn't it?" He offers with warm eyes. "Yeah, it is,” you say incredulously. “I haven’t seen-” "Jungwoo." A serious voice cuts through the atmosphere. Both of you stiffen and spot Taeyong, arms crossed with hard eyes, taking in the scene before him. "Don't you have something to turn in for me?” Jungwoo releases your hands as if they were burning hot coals. "Yes, sorry Boss. I was just taking a break and showing Y/n my new gun." "Well, get on it.” His usual soft voice is hard. Jungwoo’s face drops. Taeyong’s eyes slide to you. “Y/n, can I see you in my office?” He doesn’t wait for you as he begins walking back. You and Jungwoo exchange bewildered glances as you stand to follow him. Once you step into his office, you notice that Taeyong doesn’t greet you. He leans over his desk, his hands gripping the wooden edges. “Did you.. need me for something?” You ask, perplexed by his demeanor. 

He straightens up, running his hand through his hair. “No,” he sighs, turning to glance at you. “You… you ah… you and Jungwoo…” he trails off, averting his eyes. He huffs. “You and Jungwoo…spend a lot of time together.”

You try not to laugh. “Yes, you assigned us to work together. On everything. Don’t you remember?” 

He only grumbles, rubbing his forehead. “Right.”

“Are you alright?” You test carefully.

“I’m fine,” he says curtly, turning his back to you once again to walk towards his desk. You wait for him to elaborate but he doesn't. 

“Well… if you are, could you apologize to Jungwoo later? It was kind of rude.” He glances at you and then exhales, plopping into this arm chair. He tries to speak but struggles, then seems to give up and glare at his tie. “Hey,” you say gently, following his path around the desk until you’re standing by his chair. “Tell me what’s wrong.” You touch his chin, then run your fingers through his hair that has his shoulders slumping with stress seeping out.

"I'm sorry,” he sighs, the hardness in his voice gone. “It’s just, the past few days.. with you finally being mine after so many years… but then stupid Johnny at the club was with you and then Jungwoo was holding your hands and… I just got jealous. It's silly, I know. You love me. There's no doubt about that." He mumbles, sighing. “I can’t help it.”

“Oh,” your brain processes his words. “You were jealous?”

"What else was I supposed to be?" He now lifts his face to look up at you directly. "I think of you in every moment, in every breath I take, even in every dream I have at night. And then I see you with Jungwoo.. or someone else.. and I get jealous of them, for being in your presence. Because sometimes, they’re the ones that have your eyes… or hands on them. Not me.”

You chuckle. “Even though I have my eyes on you ninety nine percent the rest of the time?”

“Only ninety nine percent?” he laughs, his smile finally appearing. “I want the full one hundred.” He twists his chair a little to bury his head in your stomach. “I’ll give you anything you want, Y/n. Anything in this world.”

You sigh, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “I know.” He doesn’t respond and seems deflated so you try to reassure him. “I get jealous too.”

He lifts his head to look at you. "Really? I never noticed." 

“I don’t tell you.”

He suddenly sounds curious. "Jealous of whom?"

Your cheeks burn and you look away. “I don’t know. When the women were all over you at that same club the other day. When I hear you haven't been alone all these years, that you loved someone else. It.. makes me jealous.”

Taeyong’s eyes seem to kindle with light. He stands up slowly until he’s slightly towering over you. "So.. you're jealous of my attention too.” His eyes darken only slightly, but the air shifts. "Would you prefer that I give you one hundred percent as well so that I only ever pay attention to you?”

You feel flustered at your vulnerability but provide your answer without breaking eye contact. “Yes.” 

He falls silent then. The air is still around you, growing heated as you gaze at each other, wordlessly. "What would you do if they were here right now?” His voice is low, raspier than before.

You know he wouldn’t engage; has no interest in anyone else but you, but from every previous interaction with him, you know by now he’s very into you being possessive. So, you decide to indulge him and playfully growl. You lean over and kiss his pulse point. He swallows hard. “I’d wring them away from you.” 

Your words work on him. He shivers in your arms. "What else?” he asks, his voice slightly more gravelly in your ear.

You think. “I’d also push you against the nearest wall and kiss you until you’re panting, making sure they watch.”

He grows still. “Really?” You nod. It looks like it’s the right answer. He abruptly pulls away from you with a determined look on his face. "Good. I need you. Right now. Let's.. let's go to the closest wall we can find."

You laugh out loud, following along as he pulls you away from his desk. “Which wall?" He tugs you towards one end of the room, coaxing another laugh from you.

“There is no one to watch here. Should I just kiss you against a wall?”

"Yes. Yes, that's the idea," His voice turns rough once again. He pulls you to the wall nearest his desk and turns around to face you. "Show me, love." he orders, his eyes dark with his fringes falling into them. Your throat grows tight, all your previous laughter disappearing. He leans close to you again, hand wrapping around your wrist so that you can’t back away. "I want you to show me how jealous you can get. Right now." He growls lowly. You swallow thickly, and force your limbs to move. You raise your hands, his loosening from your wrist, and press against his chest. He doesn’t break eye contact as you push him against the wall. He gasps a little when he hits the surface, eyes darkening again. You press forward to kiss him harshly. He moans as he kisses you back just as aggressively. “Yes,” he breathes shakily between kisses. “You’re so good.”

Your mouths push and pull like tides as you keep up the show. “You like this? Being shown who you belong to?”

He’s gasping between kisses, all your words exciting him further. "Oh.. god yes, I do." he breathes out. "I love it.. I love knowing that I’m yours.” He lets out a small moan. "You'll make sure that no one will steal me away from you, right?"

You kiss down his neck, nipping the skin slightly, causing him to tremble in your arms. “Yes. No one can take you from me. You’re mine.” You say the words you think will affect him most and you’re right. A pretty blush settles on his cheeks and he moans softly at your kisses. 

"Yes... no one will take me away from you because you're mine, and I'm yours,” he breathes, eyes lidded.

“Yes,” you soften, littering kisses down his jaw. “You’re mine and I’m yours.” He shivers when you undo his buttons to litter more kisses along his collarbone. You subconsciously press closer to him and feel his hardness graze your thigh. “You’re this worked up? From just my words?” You ask fondly, nipping his chest. His eyes are closed, cheeks flushed, hair falling into them.

“F-From you. I’m worked up from you,” he mumbles.

It’s endearing. You comb this hair back from his face and kiss him. “Well, it would be unfair to let you go home like this.”

His eyes seem to focus on you in confusion before you press your palm against the bulge in his slacks. He shivers against you. “Y/n-“ You press until he bites his lip. Your nimble fingers unzip his pants and slide in past the hem of his boxers to grip him. He gasps, eyes flying open. “Oh god,” he moans. You keep a tight grip as you stroke him, watching his head fall back against the wall, jaw working open. You lean forward to kiss his neck.

“Good?”

“Good… so good,” he nods. You struggle to work him with the small space you have in his boxers but he moans so beautifully even with what little you do. “Y/n,” his eyes open, half lidded, shallow breaths. You pause to look at him. “I love you.”

You soften, push forward to kiss him gently, chastely, so at odds with your hand still stroking him. “I love you too, so much.” You squeeze him gently and he gasps, breaking away from your kiss and arches against the wall, moaning, and you know you have to hear more. With a final kiss to the hollow of his throat, you drop to your knees. He gazes down at you, eyes going wide, then jaw clenching, arousal seeping into his face. You grip his pants and boxers slide them down a bit along his hips until his length is free for your undivided attention. The sight of it completely hard has arousal surging through you but a brush of his hand to your cheek breaks your focus.

He’s gazing down at you softly, arousal drenched on his face but tended by loving concern. “Are you sure?”

You take his hand by your cheek and kiss it firmly, smiling up at him. “More sure than anything.” Then he hisses as you stroke him, hard in your grip. You budge closer until your lips are right by his length and gaze at him with dark eyes. “I want you to know what I do for you and nobody else.”

All softness drains from his face and his eyes grow ravenous. He gives you a nod and you take him into your mouth. His head hits the wall, body trembling a little as your mouth engulfs him. You drag back and come forward, tongue swirling against him, slowly setting a rhythm that has you humming. His breaths grow harsh and shaky quickly, his hands combing through your hair. You relish the feeling of him, the weight of him in your throat. You want to hear him moan but one glance tells you he seems to be holding back. His teeth dig into his bottom lip, eyes clenched shut in concentration, hand gripping your hair gently. You decide to pick up your pace and he curses, biting his lip hard. Your shallow sucks grow deeper and his length goes in further along your throat. He trembles and a low groan finally loosens from his lips. You yourself nearly moan at the sound and take him even deeper, until he hits the back of your throat. His eyes fly open and he attempts to pull back his hips, tugging you by your hair back a little to get you to slow down. “Y/n… I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

You ignore him, grab his hips and shove him back into your mouth. He harshly gasps out your name and it’s everything you wanted to hear. You gaze up at him, tearing yourself from his length with great self control. “I’m in control right now, aren't I?”

He shivers at your authoritative tone and surrenders. “Yes, ma’am.”

Your stomach burns at the title and you quickly set back to work, taking him deep in your mouth. This time, he moans freely, his hand back in your hair. His soft caresses of your hair become tight, his finger curling around the strands absently as his face screws up in pleasure. Soon, he’s subconsciously guiding your head in your movements as his hips push forward to meet your mouth. It makes his length go even deeper in your throat until you have to focus more not to gag. His free moans are music to your ears, his head is tilted back against the wall, eyes clenched closed. With one particular stroke, you feel him pulse in your mouth. Then, his eyes are flying open and he tugs you off of him roughly by your hair. The sensation sparks pain and pleasure through you, coaxing a noise from your lips, which he seems to notice. He pants harshly, eyes lidded, as you gaze up at him in confusion. “I’m… too close,”. He struggles to find his composure. “I .. don't want to lose myself in your mouth.”

“Where then?” You tease as he helps you stand up. His eyes darken. 

“You’ll see.” Your breath catches as he steps forward, backing you towards his desk. “I think it’s my turn to show you how possessive I get.” His lips crash into yours and it's rough, rougher than he’s ever kissed you. You gasp as his hands grip your cheeks and hair hard, pressing you insistently against him. You feel heat pool quickly in your lower abdomen. He walks you backwards, kissing you hard until your back hits the edge of his desk and he’s towering over you. His dilated umber eyes hold you captive, his hair messy, cheeks flushed, lips parted with shallow breaths. 

“Sit.” He directs you. You obey, lifting yourself on your tiptoes and then seating yourself on the wooden edge. Then, he kneels, and it’s so graceful and how he does so, but your throat goes painfully dry. He takes one of your legs in his hand and kisses your ankle, still strapped in by your formal shoe. He lifts it so it slides over his shoulder and does the same with the other. 

He gazes up at you, brows low, gaze dark and you swear you’ve never been so turned on. He grips the hem of your skirt and slides it up to reveal your thighs. He comes closer to kiss the revealed skin, never breaking eye contact with you, his gaze searing into yours. Your gut is a mess of fire and butterflies, twisting and flipping and grappling for sanity while your mind wonders where did that young shy boy that you knew all this time go? 

“Y/n,” he groans, sliding your skirt up all the way until the front is bunched around your hips. It's when his hands grip the hem of your panties does electricity strike your senses. He gazes at you as if asking for permission and you lift yourself up slightly in response.

He smirks and slides your panties down your legs, past your socks and over your heels before tossing them somewhere neither of you bother to remember. He settles back close between your legs and the image of him gazing up at you on his knees sears itself in your brain. Then, he leans forward and licks a stripe along your core that has you gasping and clutching his shoulder. He smiles and presses his hand against your stomach, hinting at you lie back against his desk. You shiver and obey and it's not even until your head hits the wood does he lick another long, broad stripe that has you arching.

“Shit,” you gasp, clutching the edge of his desk. You feel him grin between your legs before his fingers slide inside you. Your eyes clench shut, mouth falling open as the burning stretch gives away to pleasure. He pumps his fingers leisurely into you, making your toes curl in your shoes. He licks your clit at the same time, causing a long moan and a jerk for your hips. You vaguely wonder when was the last time you’ve been pleasured like this. 

He pushes his fingers deeper and curls them deep inside that has you letting out a long moan of his name. He groans at that and retracts his fingers, leaving you empty. “Look at me,” he says raspily into your skin. “I want you to look at me.” You lift your head up a small ways to see him between your legs, his dark eyes glaring at you, his nimble hands hooking around both of your thighs. Then, he slides his tongue inside his tongue inside, hot and thick. You let out a high pitched moan, hand coming down to tangle in his hair as you arch up. “Oh god,” you clench around his tongue as he goes deeper. He groans in satisfaction and you can feel it reverberate through your body. Sparks of pleasure fly in your vision. His tongue twists and moves and flicks inside you, turning your limbs and mind to jelly. Your head hits the back of his desk as you arch again and suddenly you feel his nails digging painfully into your thighs. You lift your head up to glance back down at him and he gives you a pointed gaze. Right, keep your eyes on him.

He continues his ministrations, leaving you arching and moaning and whimpering all while struggling to keep eye contact. He doesn’t let up once, not even when you accidentally tug his hair too hard, which earns a hiss and then a moan. He continues, tongue sinful sliding deep inside you before moving to wrap his lips around your clit and suck hard. That has you gasping, moaning, hand tightening in his hair as your face screws up in pleasure. He watches every single facial expression carefully while working you all the while. He slides fingers inside while suckling your clit and when he curls them once again deep inside you, you fall apart.

‘Oh god, oh god,” you moan out as you hurdle towards your end. He groans when he feels you coming, and redoubles his efforts so that you have to cover your mouth when you scream. You fall back against the mercilessly hard wood as the  purest bliss washes over you. You arch and moaning and shake around his tongue until he groans into your core, tongue lapping up everything you have to give him. He leaves you then, granting you enough mercy to come back to reality and your body with all the energy sapped out of you. 

He’s suddenly near you, bending over and pressing his body against your weary one to kiss your forehead. Hand comes to comb through your hair gently as you regain your composure.

You open his eyes to see him smiling softly down at you. “Good?” You nod breathlessly. He smiles proudly. “Good. Because I’m not done with you yet.” 

Your words catch in your throat as he guides you to sit up against the desk once again. He stands before you, towering, his hair even messier now thanks to you, and a slight shine to his lips where he didnt wipe you off completely. He cups your cheeks reverently and bends down to kiss you. It’s loving and passionate and you find yourself melting against him one again. His hand runs through your hair before he tangles it in a few strands in the back of your head and tugs firmly. You gasp harshly, breaking away from the kiss as your head is forced back a little. He examines you briefly before he tugs again experimentally. You moan this time, eyes fluttering and pleasure buzzing through your body. He drinks in your reaction like it's an elixir of gold. “Just as I thought,” he mumbles before gently combing through your hair again. “I can’t believe I do this to you. The effect I have on you,” he says reverently, watching your hair slip from his fingers. 

You catch your breath. “You have every effect on me.”

He gazes at you intently before leaning over and gives you another kiss. Then, he helps you off his desk until you're standing on your slightly unreliable, still shaky legs. He steadies you with his grip on your hips. He presses his lips to your temple and eyes his desk behind you. “You know… I dreamed of having you here.” His eyes are dark again, pupils blown wide, voice raspy. “Some days, it distracts me so much that I can’t do any work sitting here,” his eyes flit across the wood. “I’ve wanted it for so long.”

“For how long?” You ask. 

“Since the day you walked into this building,” he laughs, nudging your nose with his. “You were so beautiful,” he sighs, settling his forehead on yours. “And the first time we drank wine here and I almost kissed you? After that, god, those thoughts would not leave me.”

“What…” you swallow, “what thoughts?”

His eyes darken. “Of you bent over my desk, moaning and whimpering as I fuck you.” Excitement buzzes throughout your body, arousal seeping through you once again, so embarrassingly quickly after your release. Taeyong cups your jaw, his thumb resting on your lip. his stare is dark, unwavering. “What do you say, my love?”  

You swallow hard. “We should make those thoughts reality.”

His eyes darken impossibly more. “You sure?”

“Please.” His eyes darken again, growling as he kisses you hard. Then, he turns you around, pressing your stomach into the edge of the desk and drags his hands down your body. He presses and kneads your clothes breasts, his hard length pressing into your ass as he kisses down your neck. You moan and arch against him. “Bend over,” he instructs. A wave of arousal hits you hard as you do his bidding. Once you’re bent over with your forearms resting against the wood, Taeyong flips over your skirt. You hear him groan, probably at how unbelievably sopping wet you are by now, especially from having come once already. Then his hard length is sliding into you and all thoughts grind to a halt. Both your moans synchronize as he slowly thrusts into you, mumbling praises while you fight to stay sane. You are still so sensitive and the lazy drag of his length against your walls compounds your pleasure. He eventually picks up speed, sending pleasure coursing through you with each stroke. One hand tangles in your hair, and you feel him press down against your back until his lips are by  your ear. “God, I love your hair.” He gives a firm tug so your head is pulled back against his neck, coaxing a shaky moan from your lips. He groans and sinks his teeth into your neck. You gasp at the sharp pain mixed by the pleasure brought from his hips. 

“Oh,” you gasp out as his hips speed up, his hand still in your hair, his teeth by your neck. It all sends your mind spiraling. He moans into your ear, whispering praises on how good you feel, how long he's waited for you, how much he loves you. Then, his other hand comes up to grip your throat and suddenly, you’re whimpering.

“Is this okay?” He whispers lowly in your ear, his hips not faltering in their brisk pace. 

“Yes yes yes,” you manage out, relishing the pressure on your throat. You want to feel him everywhere, in any form, as much as you can while he takes you for himself. 

He chuckles. “Good girl.”  You moan and clench so hard his thrusts stutter and he gasps into your ear. “God, Y/n….You like that dont you?” You moan in response and he chuckles, resuming his thrusts. He kisses down your ear and your neck. “My good girl, my sweet girl.”

You gasp, feeling yourself clench even tighter at his praise, pulling more moans from his lips. You push your hips back to meet his thrusts and he groans.

“Say my name, Y/n,” he orders, hand slightly tightening around your throat. 

You mentally scramble to remember words. “Ah, Taeyong.”

He groans lowly, possessively, his thrusts turning rougher, making you cry out. “Say.. say you love me,” his voice is a bit softer this time but still demanding. 

“Hah.. I love you,” you manage out, fingers scratching the wood for leverage. 

He releases a harsh breath against your ear. “Again.” 

“I love you,” you gasp, eyes clenching shut at his harsh pace. 

He moans, gently kissing the side of your face that he can reach from behind you, so at odds with the rough thrusts that are making you shiver. “Again, love.”

“I love you,” you cry out. He growls as his thrusts grow faster and the grip on your throat grows tighter, pulling whimpers and incoherent mumbles from your lips. His other hand untangles from your hair and reaches down to rub your clit.

“Ah!” your yelp echoes through the office. The hand clutching your throat slides up to clamp around your mouth. 

“Careful, I may have a big office but they can still hear you from outside,” he warns, voice strained in pleasure as his lips brush your cheek. “And I wouldn’t mind all of them hearing you. But I think you’d be very embarrassed walking past them into the office after this.” 

You breathe harshly against his hand, and pressing it against your mouth to signal him to keep it there because you know you’ll definitely not be quiet. He growls, his thrusts growing harsher now that your moans won't reveal you. His fingers resume drawing circles on your clit that has your whimpers coming out muffled against his hand. Your legs are shaking again, mind numb, moaning incoherently into his hand clamped around your mouth. He lets you sink flat onto the desk when you can’t hold yourself up anymore, the coolness of the wood offering some relief to your flushed face. He fucks you until his breaths grow harsher his moans louder before he drapes himself over you. 

“You’re mine,” he growls into your ear. He hits a spot deep, deep inside you that has you careening. Combined with his words and his finger on your clit, you lose yourself into pleasure for the second time. The world washes in white as you come, gasping harshly into his hand and dragging nails down his desk, walls squeezing him mercilessly. “Y/n,” he moans, desperate, thrusting into you until he strains and stills suddenly. With another moan of your name, his warmth spills inside you. He lets out a long groan as he shakes before collapsing on top of you.

Both of you fight to catch your breath. After a few minutes, it seems to take all of Taeyong’s energy to drag himself off of you and collapse into the armchair nearby. You’re still gasping over his desk, not trusting your legs to support you if you stand. “Oh my god.”

He chuckles, hand combing through his hair. “Did I get carried away?” 

Pleasure is still thrumming across your body, through every inch of every nerve. “Please.. get carried away more often.” He laughs out loud. You push yourself off the desk and shakily stand up. 

“Come on, let's get cleaned up,” Taeyong says, tangling his fingers with yours. “I have more things for you in mind at home.” 

Your stomach flips. “Still haven’t gotten it out of your system?”

“Nope.” 

At home, he gives you so many hickeys that you have to wear a high neck shirt and a scarf when you go to work the next day. When you meet Jungwoo, he only quirks a brow.

“What?” You ask. 

“Nothing,” he smiles knowingly. “I’m guessing it's going well with the boss?” You flush under your scarf. “He apologized to me, you know. You wouldn’t happen to have something to do with that, do you?”

“Uh,” your voice comes out high pitched. “Nope no, uh.. he just feels bad.”

He smiles, eyes narrowing. “Does it have anything to do with the scarf you’re wearing in June?“

“Don’t you have work to do?” You snap. He only chuckles and turns back to his computer.

...

Several pass with this routine of work and then staying over at Taeyong’s place some days of the week. The days you do, you wake up from restful slumber with his arms around your waist, his sleepy mumbled protests when you try to leave his arms, even for the bathroom. On the weekends, you spend time making breakfast and sharing kisses and watching funny movies and cleaning his apartment. It’s domestic bliss and you wish it lasted forever.The days when you don’t stay over, you stare at the emptiness of your apartment and wonder if you should just move in with him. You would have said yes already had you not felt so guilty for lying to his face everyday. You can’t even imagine taking that step when he still doesn't know the full truth and how you’ve betrayed him. Judging from his sad expressions any time you pack up and head back to your apartment, you can tell that he wants to ask you to stay for good, to move in, but he hasn’t mentioned the idea after the first time he brought it up.

Apart from this, life is routine for a while. Soon after, however, strange things begin to happen. A few of the lower ranked members get ambushed while running some operations in the city. The following week, a shipment was stolen. A few days later, some high profile clients suddenly decide not to work with the group anymore. And, the worst of all, somebody shoots at Jungwoo on his way to work. Yesterday, Taeyong told you that someone was following his car while heading home. He managed to lose them before they discovered where he lives.

“It’s bewildering,” he said in his office, brows pinched in concern. “No one has ever attacked us like this before. We are the most powerful criminal organization in the city with the highest security. Who could suddenly have access to all our details and carry out attacks like this?”

Today, your stomach churns with dread as you drive home. You remember how shaken everyone was, including Taeyong, and you hope to god it isn’t what you’re thinking. As soon as you step into your apartment, you spot a letter on the floor by the entryway.  Someone must have slid it under the door.  Come back or we kill him. You have one week. -Y.

The note shakes slightly in your hands. You read the words over and over until they’re seared into your memory. Then you push down the overwhelming sensation of dread swelling up inside you. Your suspicions are confirmed - Yuta’s behind everything. And now he’s exploiting your weakness for Taeyong so that you’ll be forced to come back to him. You don't know how he got access to so much classified information to do as much damage as he did. He seems to be everywhere, attacking everyone at once, out of fury. You wonder if it’s because of you. Either way, it’s only a matter of time before they kill Taeyong. 

Still shaking, you crumple up the note and slam it into the trash can. You feel the sting of tears in your eyes and shut the door to your room, collapsing onto your bed. You won’t be able to sleep tonight. You make up your mind about at least one thing, though. Taeyong won’t get hurt again because of you. 

...

The next day, you don’t bother checking in with Jungwoo and drag your feet to Taeyong’s office. He stands at his desk, organizing files and smiles at you brightly when you enter the room. Then, he registers the expression on your face. “What’s wrong?” His brows furrow.

You steel yourself with a shaky breath. “I’m leaving.”

His face falls, hands dropping the files onto the desk. “What?”

And suddenly, you can’t hold back your tears. “I’m leaving. I have to leave.”

He registers your tears, realizes you’re crying for the first time in front of him, and swiftly walks over to you. His arms pull you into a hug, pressing your face into his shoulder. “Why? Why are you crying?” Concern heavily laces his voice. 

“All these attacks that are happening.. you being followed… it’s all because of me,” you manage out against his chest.

His arms tighten around you, his breath stuttering. “Y/n, what are you talking about?”

You sniff and pull back, taking in his concerned face. It’s likely the last time you’ll see it when he still has love for you, before you tell him the truth. “I was sent by another organization as a spy.” It’s like slow motion, the way his face drains of all emotion and grows hard and shaken. His arms retract away from you as if you’re poison. He steps back suddenly, far out of your proximity and your heart shatters. “I know. I’m a traitor,” you say shakily, staring at the ground so you don’t have to look at that heartbreaking face. “You have every right to be angry.” Tears fill your eyes, emotion choking your words. “But I had no chance with you. I knew even before he sent me here that I’d fall in love with you and I told him as much.” 

Taeyong makes no further movements to step close to you. His voice is cold when he speaks. “Who sent you?”

You exhale. “Yuta.” His expression hardens. He knows him. You’re not surprised. Yuta’s mob is second only to Taeyong’s in the city. “He sent me here to gain intel because he knew we were close. He…he knew you would trust me and keep me close despite being a new recruit,” you say wearily. “I told him I didn’t want to but he forced me. It…it was so hard being here, seeing you, lying to you and everyone, you have no idea.” Tears fill your eyes as you chance a glance at him. Taeyong’s face is carefully neutral but his eyes betray him. They are filled with unspeakable hurt. Your heart lurches.

“I gave him some intel about that shipment drop off at the hotel. Then, you got shot. That was because of me.” Taeyong inhales sharply, you can see in his eyes that you’ve shattered his heart further. You feel nauseous. “I didn’t know it would get you hurt. When I saw you injured and bleeding, I called it off. I told Yuta I was never coming back.” Your words stutter and tears slip from your eyes. “So, he took revenge. He’s behind all these recent attacks, all because of me. He sent a note to my apartment yesterday saying either I come back or he’ll kill you.”

Taeyong seems alarmed and then turns thinking, mind working overtime. You continue.

“So many people have already gotten hurt, even Jungwoo, because of me. It’s only a matter of time before you get injured o-or worse and I can't.. I can’t be responsible,” you gasp, wiping your eyes. “So, I have to go back. I have to never see you again.”

Taeyong’s face is unchanging, his voice still cold. “Why didn’t you tell me the truth before? Especially after you called it off with Yuta?”

You exhale. “I should have. I should have told you from the beginning. But I’ve been loyal to Yuta for a decade. After my father escaped, we joined his mob. It’s only because of his protection that the police didn’t catch my father and throw him in jail.” Understanding seeps into Taeyong’s eyes. “I couldn’t betray him. But I couldn’t betray you. I just… I was just stuck,” you bite out, clenching your fists. “And I was afraid if I told you the truth, you’d want me to leave. I was happy here for the first time, with you. I just wanted to disappear into this life, where I didn't have to think about anything else, not even the idea that you’d find out the truth and hate me,” Pain seizes your chest. “I was a coward.”

“But you want to leave now,” he notes, expression still neutral.

You blink at him. “Because you’re in danger. It doesn't matter how I feel anymore.”

He watches you for a second before the slightest hint of emotion shows on his face. “Do you love him?” He swallows, eyes pained. “Yuta?”

“No!” The word falls so quickly from your lips but his pained expression doesn’t shift. “I’m only loyal because he’s like family. Like… like you. I couldn't easily turn against him just like how I couldn’t be against you. But I never loved him,” you say evenly. “And I love you more than anything.”

Taeyong’s expression falters, softens. “If… if I allow you to stay, will you help us bring him down?” He asks carefully.

Words fail you for a moment. You thought Taeyong would yell in anger, throw you out like he did with that man. Instead, he gives you the smallest chance of penance. As of yesterday, you found happiness with Taeyong while Yuta threatens you and uses the love of your life to hurt you. It’s clear he will never see you as anything more than his weapon. And for the first time, everything feels clear. “Yes, I will.” 

Taeyong seems relieved. “Then… then stay. Help us bring him down.”

You blink at him, wide-eyed. “You trust me?”

Taeyong looks away. “I don’t know yet. But I can’t just let you go back to him. Who knows what he’ll do to you as punishment.” His hands curl into fists. “And I may not trust you completely, but I still love you. And I’m not losing you again, not after I found you after all these years.” You inhale. You never imagined that this conversation would end in any way other than with you leaving and never seeing Taeyong again. Something painfully tight in your heart loosens and suddenly, tears spill from your eyes. Taeyong reaches for you, then falters for a moment before deciding. He steps forward and pulls you into his arms. His fingers tangle in your hair and press you close to his chest. You melt against him, relishing the sound of his heartbeat as you cry freely. “Shh, it’s okay.”

“I love you,” you cry.

“I know,” he says gently, stroking your hair. He kisses your forehead. “I’m not losing you again.”

...

Over the next few days, you tell Taeyong everything you possibly know about Yuta and your old mob, including sensitive information. You hold nothing back. You know this is the time for endings. Taeyong uses every scrap of your information and turns them into orders for other members, into strategies and plans that will give an advantage, and generally puts things to work to ruthlessly take Yuta down. You are grateful that he does not tell the entire office of your treachery. It only appears as if Taeyong has received a sudden influx of highly sensitive information related to a hostile rival mob in a stroke of good luck. But as members of a criminal organization, not everyone is so naive, and they pick up on your sudden increase in visits to his office. Their warm looks suddenly turn to suspicious glares and wide kept distances. 

Jungwoo’s reaction hits you particularly hard. You’re not sure if Taeyong told him the truth about you since he’s his right hand, or if, more likely, Jungwoo found it out by himself. Either way, when you try to speak with him the first day after your revelation, he gives you the cold shoulder. You dont blame him, of course. He gave you information in confidence, which you relayed to the enemy and indirectly put him in danger. Still, your stomach sinks at his aloofness and spreads ice through your heart. You make sure to visit Taeyong’s office only from now on and relay only the necessary information, missing your friend’s twinkling eyes and warm smile the whole time.

Over the course of this work, even Taeyong keeps a distance. He doesn’t show you affection as much as he did before. When he does, it’s with a slightly guarded look in his eyes as if you’ll attack at any moment, with his kisses and touches all too fleeting. Sometimes, you feel lucky if he gives you a smile. You try to blame it on the busyness of work in taking down a rival mob, but it makes your heart crumble all the same. You know he needs time to build back trust, so you give him space. You don’t stay at his place these days and leave work before he can ask. It’s better than him telling you no or, worse, feeling pressured to offer. Whatever he feels, you want to be there for him, always, and hope that he’ll eventually make his way back to you. 

With everyone in the entire office regarding you suspiciously, work becomes a cold place. You’re also well aware that the ultimatum’s deadline is approaching, of which Yuta ordered you to come back within a week’s time or he’ll kill Taeyong. You’re sure that it will be more difficult for Yuta to target Taeyong now that the latter has all the dirt on him, has bolstered his defenses and is launching raids and attacks against Yuta, but it still makes you uneasy.

Taeyong seems to remember this too and asks you about it during one of your meetings with him. “Where did you say you found that note from Yuta?”

“My apartment.”

He blinks. “So he knows where you live?” You nod uneasily. He stiffens slightly. “Y/n, you can’t stay there.”

“I know.” You sigh. “I was thinking of secretly moving to a hotel. I’ve been packing and getting ready.”

“No!” He says bewilderedly but cuts himself off with a sigh. “With me. Stay with me.”

You stare at him. “Are you sure?” 

He gives you a level gaze. “Of course.”

You hesitate for a few moments before nodding. “Okay. I’ll bring over my things.” His face melts in relief, churning small butterflies in your stomach. Taeyong seems to want to say something else but decides against it and turns back to work. It’s enough though, for you. 

“I can take the guest room,” you offer, once you’ve unloaded your boxes and suitcases into his apartment.

“Don’t be silly.” He runs his hand through his hair. “Just use my bed, like you’ve done a million times.” You hesitate, uneasiness stirring in your gut. His dark eyes fix on you. “I don’t hate you, Y/n. You don't have to worry about making me uncomfortable.”

You still don't budge. He makes a show of plopping down on his bed and scooching to the far most end, patting the space beside him. You acquiesce with a sigh and climb in, settling into the sheets and lie down, facing away from him. You relish the familiar feeling of his mattress and his scent on the sheets, remembering the last time you were here before everything changed. “Goodnight Y/n,” Taeyong mumbles behind you.

“Goodnight,” you say into the darkness. Of course, the next day, you wake up tangled in each other's arms. You nearly hate yourself for it. He’s still sleeping and you find yourself quietly admiring his features, as you always do, when you wake up beside him. He looks so angelic and peaceful. You chance a small kiss to his forehead that you don't deserve before tearing yourself away. He catches you, though, arm wrapping around your back to press you to him as his eyelids flutter open. It's silent for a moment before he kisses you. You melt embarrassingly fast in his arms before he pulls away with a sigh. It’s silent for a few moments before you speak.

“I didn’t have a choice,” you say thickly, your heart aching. 

“I know.”

“I should've told you. I wanted to tell you.”

“I know,” he smiles, his eyes sad. “Your soft spot is your family and the people around you. And you were stuck between two. I know because it's mine too.” You sigh, blinking back the sting of tears in your eyes. He brings your hand up to kiss your palm. “I forgive you. Now, just forgive yourself.”

A few stray tears make their way down your cheeks. He wipes them gently. “Sorry. You probably prefer a girl who’s much less messy than me,” you laugh weakly.

He shushes you. “In all your rawness, ugliness and truth, that's how I want you.” His words seep into you. He gives you a final kiss to your forehead before removing himself from the bed to get ready for work. You manage to do the same.

...

This new way of life continues for several weeks more. Yuta continues his attacks on the mob but not on the same level as before since Taeyong has been counterattacking and sabotaging his operation, thanks to your help. You continue to supply as much information as you can remember, like how many members Yuta has, where they’re active, who are their allies, what documents he kept in his ever-secretive files. It helps greatly and Yuta’s attacks seem to decrease by the next month.

Everyone’s coldness towards you seems to thaw until you are accepted back as their member, all except for Jungwoo. He still doesn’t speak to you as much as before and when he does, it's curt and quipped, with cold, short words, not spending more time in your presence than necessary. It torments you. You make up your mind to have a direct conversation with Jungwoo so that he knows how sorry you are. But you also haven’t been feeling well suddenly the last few days and have not come into the office all together. Yesterday, your stomach churned as soon as you woke up and Taeyong caught you throwing up in the bathroom. He was worried and fussy and you assured him it must have been some bad fish you ate the day before. He didn’t want to leave you alone, and outright refused at first to go to work, but you assured him you’ll take some medicine and will be fine in a few hours. He left only after ten minutes of convincing and a promise that you’d call him if you were not feeling well.

As soon as he left, you finally let the dread swallow you whole. Could you be pregnant? You recounted that night in Taeyong’s office months ago when you definitely didn't use a condom. You facepalmed. If only you two hadn’t been so far gone with each other that day, you would’ve remembered. You tried to relax. Maybe it was something else. You did, in fact, eat fish the day before. One pregnancy test would have solved this question but you decided to do it later. Today, you’re determined to come into work and talk to Jungwoo. Damn your queasy stomach. He’s your only focus. Thankfully, you manage not to throw up this morning and unnecessarily worry Taeyong. Instead, you get ready and drive to work with him. As soon as you get into the office, you make your way to Jungwoo who is busy with some emails on his computer. 

“Jungwoo?” He doesn’t turn to face you, his full attention fixed on his screen. “Can we talk?” He sucks his teeth and doesn’t bother to turn around. “Look, I know I’ve-” An unpleasant nausea rises in your stomach, and suddenly you’re bolting towards the female restroom without another word. When you finally emerge back onto the main floor after emptying your guts, you spot Jungwoo staring at you from his desk, eyes narrowed suspiciously. You approach him, giving him a pathetic attempt at a smile.  “Just some bad tuna.”

“For three days in a row?” He asks. You merely stare at him in question as to how he could possibly know that. “I know you haven’t come into work the past few days,” he answers. You stare at the ground, tapping your shoe against the carpet, feeling foolish. He releases a sigh. “Does Taeyong know?” You shake your head and grumble, rubbing your forehead.

“Why not?” 

You exhale. “I… I'm still processing it myself. I'll tell him soon. I just need my head to clear.” you say wearily.

“Does anyone else know?” He asks. You shake your head. Jungwoo watches you with an unreadable expression. Then, he adjusts the chair beside him, the one that used to be yours. “Sit,” he instructs. You gaze at him with a glimmer of hope and obey. Once you do, he turns to face you, brows pinched in concern. “How are you feeling?”

“Nauseous,” you grimace, pressing your hands to your abdomen. He bites back a laugh. 

“I can guess. I meant your mind.”

You slink in your chair. “I'm scared. A mob at war is no place for a child.”

He nods. “And how do you feel about telling Taeyong?”

“Not much better. I’m sure he’ll be happy. I’m not worried about that. But for many months, I'll be… pregnant… and vulnerable.. With this war, if I fall into danger or if anybody takes me, I think he’ll destroy everything, even himself, trying to get me back.” You gaze at the carpet, deep in thought. “And I’m also afraid he’ll lock me up and never let me do anything out of fear for my safety.”

“Well, for the first one, you don't have to be pregnant for him to destroy everything to get you back,” Jungwoo says, smiling “And the second one, yeah, he would probably do that.”

You chuckle, glancing at him. “I know I have to tell him. I’m just… figuring out how to, I guess.”

“You’ll figure it out,” he reassures you. 

A few moments of silence settles between you. “I missed you,” you finally admit, watching the unguarded flinching emotion in his face before he attempts to shutter it away. You cover his hand with yours. “I’m sorry, I truly am.”

Jungwoo gazes at you then, sincerely, and whatever resistance he’s trying to put up against you fails. “I know. I'm sorry too. I'm here for you, you know?” You nearly tear up in relief. You tug him into a hug, which he reciprocates easily. Warmth spreads through your chest and to your heart that has been aching for months. Then, Jungwoo tugs himself away from you. “Careful, I don't want Boss yelling at me again.”

You laugh. “I won't let him do that. It's the reason why I got pregnant anyway,” you mumble.

He looks at you sharply “What?”

“Nothing!” You stand up suddenly. “I uh.. am late, bye.” You hear him laughing as you scurry off.

...

You join Taeyong in his office to help out on some work. Your stomach seems to settle down the rest of the day, thankfully. Your brain swims while you watch Taeyong work busily, trying to figure out how to break the news to him. Would he be happy? Of course he would. You know he wants this more than anything. You just have to work up the nerve. Maybe you can later, when you return home. The day ends and he drives you back to his place, as he’s been doing for weeks since you’ve moved in with him. “You know, it’s nice having you live with me. It feels almost as if we’re married.”

You snort. “We don’t argue enough to be married.”

He chuckles. “We’re happily married, how’s that?” He offers.

“Oh, so that’s why people specify the phrase ‘happily’ before the word ‘married’.”

“Yes,” he laughs. Once you get into his apartment and settle in, he gives you a look. “I would marry you, you know.”

Your cheeks heat up. He looks sincere. “Really?”

His eyes twinkle. “Yes.”

You gaze at him, speechless with emotion before you remember your news. “I need to tell you something.” His brows quirk as he undoes his wrist watch. Just then, the elevator dings behind you, signaling someone has gotten on from the bottom floor. Both of you freeze and turn to face the metal doors.

“That’s strange. No one has access to the elevator except Jungwoo. Did he tell you he was coming over?” Taeyong asks. You check your phone. No text messages or calls. Chills run down your spine as you stare at him and shake your head slowly. Taeyong’s eyes widen. Then, the doors ding open and you realize it’s most definitely not Jungwoo. “Y/n, get back!” Taeyong shouts.

Four or five men with guns step out of the doors and into the penthouse. It’s a surreal sight but they are all familiar. Yuta’s men. You scramble backwards away from them but one lunges to catch your sleeve and drag you off the chair towards them. You barely register Taeyong grabbing the gun from his dresser and aiming at them with a shout to let you go. The man who has you in his grip whirls you around to face Taeyong and presses a gun to your head. All the color drains from Taeyong’s face, but he doesn’t lower the gun. The man holding you captive growls behind you. “She belongs to us. We’re taking her back.” His arm  bars your neck and presses hard until you wince. “Yes, bring even traitors like you back,” he snarls into your ear.

Taeyong flinches as if to make a move but all guns suddenly train on him and he freezes once more. You merely gaze at Taeyong, trying to apologize with your eyes. His face is hard, his eyes a storm of emotions. His gun is still aimed at your captors, both hands wrapped around the handle, one finger around the trigger but you know he’s outnumbered. The gun against your temple pushes into your skin. “If you make one move, we’ll shoot her right here.”

Taeyong’s eyes flash. “Why don’t you just take me instead? Or kill me? Isn’t that what your boss wanted from the beginning?”

“Because someone would just replace you. Why do you think Yuta didn’t just send her as an assassin? We want to destroy your organization from the inside out. And she,” the gun nudges your head. “Is the key. She knows all your secrets by now. And as long as we have her, we’ll control you.” Another man speaks up. “But that doesn’t mean we won’t kill you and her if you try anything.”

“It's okay. I’ll be okay.” You reassure Taeyong as calmly as you can.

Taeyong’s eyes shine, the gun wavering in his hands before he lowers it. “I’ll get you back, I promise.”With that, the men are stepping back into the elevator, dragging you with them. Your last view is Taeyong’s distressed, anguished face before the metal doors close.

...

After a never ending van ride with your familiar kidnappers calling you a traitor and telling you to wait until Yuta gets his hands on you, you end up back at his base, sitting in a dark, empty room with a single chair and a lightbulb dangling above you. You know this room. It’s one of the rooms they used to question enemies and prisoners, although “question” is an understatement, you think, spotting the faded bloodstains on the ground. Just then, the door opens to reveal a familiar face with long red hair. “Long time no see, Boss” you hum as Yuta steps into the dim light of the room. 

He looks angry. His eyes glint as he slowly circles you. “Yes,” he gives a fake smile. “I recall the last time I saw you, when you were still loyal.” 

“Yes, that was a while ago. Many things have changed since then.” 

He snorts. “Things, huh?” He stops in front of you, peering down. “Why don’t you tell me every single piece of intel you know about that place, just like I ordered you to?”

You match his glare. “Do you need it? You seem to be managing fine against them on your own.”

Yuta grits his teeth. “Not anymore. Your boyfriend put up a good fight against us. You saw to that, I’m sure.”

“How did you manage to do that much damage in the first place?” You ask.

“I wasn’t aware this was my interrogation session.” He growls. “Besides, I don’t answer to traitors. You’re lucky you're even alive to ask questions. I could've had you killed for your treachery instead of being taken.”

You huff out a laugh. “Then you would’ve lost your precious chance to use me to take down Taeyong’s mob.” 

His eyes flare. “Right, Taeyong. The one you threw everything out for.”

“I told you when you gave me this case and I didn’t want to take this one. I told you the risk.”

“I didn't think we’d lose you so easily. After ten years, you throw that loyalty away?”

You glare at him. “Ten years is not enough for me to put my loyalty to you over him.”

He seems to falter. Then, he steels himself, eyes flashing with anger. “How long then? Twenty years?” You don’t reply. ”Fifty? One hundred?” When you still don’t respond, he throws his hands in the air. “I don’t believe this.”

“It's not personal, it's just-”

“Yes, it is personal!” He jabs a finger into your face. “I send you to do a job and you throw out everything we built together over some crush!?”

“You know by now it’s not some crush!” You bite back. The anger on his face crumbles a little into surprise. You sigh frustratedly. “You don’t understand. I didn’t have a choice. I was stuck between you and him. I couldn’t betray either of you. Do you know I didn’t rat you out right away? I didn’t tell Taeyong or anyone until you sent me that fucking note. And when I did tell them, it was because I was going to leave and come back to you. That’s when they saw me as a traitor. I was loyal and a traitor to both sides.”

Yuta falls silent for a few moments before speaking quietly. “But you didn’t come back to me. You stayed and helped him take me down. You made your decision in the end.”

“Yes, I did. But it’s because you were going to kill him. It’s not because you meant nothing to me.” 

He falls quiet again. “Tell me what you know of the Scorpion, Y/n.” You stay silent, staring at the floor. “You know this business. If you don't tell me what you know and prove to me your allegiance, you’re of no use to me.”

“What then? Are you going to torture me? Kill me?” You ask him. “Would you do that to me, Yuta?” 

He doesn’t respond. He only turns and walks out the door, speaking over his shoulder. “You have one day to make up your mind.”

....

Taeyong is losing his mind. Jungwoo has never seen him like this. He called an emergency meeting, had people come back into the office to assemble in the conference room, and proceeded to pace and ramble and stumble over his words as he tried to explain the situation. He runs his hand through his hair until it stuck up on the ends, even stopping to kick a chair over in frustration. Jungwoo still can’t believe you were taken from his apartment. He figures they must have tracked you somehow. “I want everyone to split up and come up with plans to get her back,” Taeyong orders, his voice uneven. “We already know where his base is, thanks to her. We’ll meet back here in ten minutes. Dismissed.”

The room empties out with people already mumbling ideas. Taeyong goes back to pacing, scratching the back of his head nervously before growing taut. Then, he kicks another chair over with a frustrated grunt. It’s only then does he notice Jungwoo is still in the room. “Ah,” he blinks, embarrassed, staring at the chair. “I was just… just frustrated.” 

“I know this is a dumb question, but are you okay?” Jungwoo asks.

Taeyong’s face crumbles into despair. “They just took her… right out from under me, they just came in and pointed a gun at her head and took her.”

“I know,” Jungwoo tries to sound soothing. “I’ll help in any way I can.”

Taeyong doesn’t look reassured. His brows are pinched and his lips have been twisted in a perpetual frown since he walked in here. “We have to come up with a plan.”

Jungwoo nods. “Any ideas so far?”

Taeyong chews his lip. “Maybe we can just raid his base with sheer manpower. She can figure out how to run or hide in the commotion. If she gets her hand on a weapon, she can even help us out before we get her out of there.”

Jungwoo’s stomach churns, remembering how, just today, you couldn’t get through a full conversation with him without vomiting. Worse yet, you’ve been like this for the past three days. The plan doesn’t seem like the best idea given your condition. “I don’t know about having her join the fight. We have to keep her protected at all costs.”

Taeyong looks at him inquisitively. “I mean, she can handle herself. She’s a trained soldier.”

Jungwoo realizes you never got the chance to tell Taeyong the truth. “She didn’t tell you?”

Taeyong blinks. “Tell me what?”

“She’s pregnant.”

Silence blares loudly in the room for a full minute. All emotion drains from Taeyong’s face only to be replaced with shock. “What?”

“She’s pregnant. I caught her throwing up just this morning.”

Taeyong looks dazed. “She’s pregnant..?” Jungwoo nods. Taeyong’s eyes become misty. He suddenly grips his forehead. “She told me it was bad tuna.”

Jungwoo bites back a laugh. “She told me that too.” He watches Taeyong blink back tears and take a breath, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. “Boss, listen. We can't let her fight on her own. She’s not well as it is and can barely keep her food down. On top of that, the baby…”

“The baby...” Taeyong breathes. His eyes are a million miles away. “Her and my baby… and,” His eyes grow cold, jaw clenching. “And Yuta took her.”

“Yes, he did.” Jungwoo says. “And he might kill her tonight if she doesn't give him any useful information.”

All panic is gone from Taeyong. Now he’s cold, rigid, familiar, the one that Jungwoo is used to. “We’re not going to show mercy.” Taeyong growls. “And we’ll find a way that doesn't put her.. or.. our baby.. at risk.”

Jungwoo grins. “Yes, Boss.”

...

You’re locked in a cell for the night. Not really a cell, more like one of their spare bedrooms that can be locked from the outside. It’s not too bad; it has a bed and a bucket. The bucket is particularly useful for your nausea bouts that have started up again since they locked you in here. Even if you try to escape, it will be difficult in your condition. Fatigue aches throughout your body. Your head feels light and your stomach is perpetually queasy. Being kidnapped, questioned and thrown into a cell certainly hasn’t helped. At least they gave you some semblance of a dinner, you think, eyeing the slop of food in a bowl on your table.

You can’t sleep, obviously, and opt to keep your mind busy during this insufferable silence. You try to trace how Yuta knew where Taeyong’s penthouse was in order to kidnap you. Then, it hits you. Your old cell phone that you threw out because Yuta was tracking it - you did that after you visited Taeyong’s place for the first time. Yuta must have just figured that any place you were staying at for a long stretch of time that wasn’t the office or your apartment was Taeyong’s.You wonder what Taeyong must be thinking. He was so panicked when you saw him last, understandably. You told him the location of Yuta’s base weeks ago, so he definitely knows where you are. He’s probably on his way here right now, or hopefully before tomorrow. 

You wonder if Yuta would really have you killed tomorrow if you don’t cooperate. He’s always been strict, mean, ruthless, but never entirely heartless. You find it hard to imagine him being able to execute you after spending a decade together. 

Suddenly, the sound of shouting and banging doors erupts from outside. Then, gunfire. You shoot up in bed and catch the sight of people running to and fro through the small window of your door. It looks like Taeyong came early after all. 

...

“We attack from the front main entrance in heavy numbers. Jungwoo, you lead this group. A small group will loop around the side. There should be a back entrance that will likely not be guarded because of the commotion at the front. I’ll slip in there and find her,” Taeyong instructed the team.

They follow it perfectly. As Taeyong slips through the back entrance and descends into the underground base, he hears shouting, gunfire and footsteps bounding down hallways. He quietly navigates the abandoned backrooms. He vaguely remembers you describing the layout of this place once. If he remembers correctly, the place where they hold prisoners should be…He turns the corner and finds a series of doors lining the entire hallway. Behind each one is a bedroom. All of them are empty except for one whose light is filtering through the small window of its door. Anticipation swells inside him as he dashes to the room, muttering a prayer that you be okay. 

The door is locked. He curses and peers through the window. He sees your face, alarmed and caught off guard before you register that it’s him. The sweetest relief floods him at the sight of you unharmed. You mouth something that he can't hear before you motion to the outside wall at the end of the hallway. He follows the line of sight and spots keys dangling on a wall hook. He dashes over to grab them before running back, unlocking the door and shouldering it open. You’re swallowed in a hug so quickly you can barely breathe. Taeyong’s arms are around you, squeezing you to him, tucking you under his chin, before running through your hair and cupping your cheeks. He’s mumbling questions and you realize he's checking to see if you're injured. You can feel him trembling. “Hey, hey, I’m okay,” you reassure him, holding his hands that are cupping your cheeks.

Anxiety bleeds from his face. He checks you one again, then pulls you in for another crushing hug. You can’t help but sigh and melt in his arms, grateful that he’s here. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he murmurs.

“It's not your fault.” You rub his back. Another round of gunfire erupts in the background. “We have to get out of here.”

He pulls away. “No, we’re not running. Yuta will just come after us. We’re going to defeat him here.”

Your stomach flips. “Defeat… Will you kill him?”

Taeyong’s brows furrow. “Yes. He was going to kill you wasn't he?” 

“I know… I just-” More gunfire rings out. You turn to Taeyong. “Give me a gun. I can help. I know their weaknesses and where to hide in this place.”

Emotion envelops his face. He cups your cheek softly. “Not this time.”

“Why not?”

“You… the baby…” he trails off, his eyes shining. 

“Oh,” you swallow. “Jungwoo told you.”

He releases a breath, lips curling into a small smile before he presses his forehead to yours. “Yeah, he did.”

The sounds of gunfire and shouting grow louder. “I can help, Taeyong. It can make a lot of difference out there. What if our guys run into a dead end hallway and get shot down? I can help everyone navigate this place, especially where to retreat to.” 

He pulls away from you. “No.”

Your eyes roam his face. “Please. I'll hide. What if you take more losses because you could have used me?”

“That’s a risk I'll take.”

“Taeyong…”

“Please, just for this one time, please do as I say.”

You fall silent. He’s never given you an order before. His hand slips from your cheek as he turns towards the door and the sound of gunfire. You make a last attempt. “I'll hide, I'll keep safe. I just want to help.” He shakes his head one more time, steps out of the room and closes the door, automatically locking it from the outside. You speechlessly stare at him through the small window. He gives an apologetic look before running off. You stare in disbelief and then rattle the door handle. It doesn't budge. The sound of gunfire rises and you anxiously wonder if it's because Taeyong entered their line of sight. If he gets hurt again when you could've done something about it….

You slam your palms against the door this time, desperation and anger rising inside of you. He locked you in here like another prisoner. “This is not happening,” you mumble. More gunfire rings out. Someone shouts in pain. Tears sting your eyes. There must be some way.

You look through the door window at the ground of the hallway outside and spot the keys on the floor close by. Taeyong must've dropped them as soon as he unlocked the door and ran to hug you. You kneel and find a big enough gap under the door for your palm. You stick your hand out, fingers brushing the edge of the keys. You pinch them with your fingertips and drag it through the door successfully. 

You stand up and exhale in victory, fumbling with the keys. You unlock the door from your side and make your escape. Gunfire echoes from all around you, from every floor and hallway. Most of the people you find along the way are unconscious or too injured to fight, and a few you fear may be dead. Most of them are Yuta’s men. You know almost all of them and it makes your heart ache. Then, you hear Taeyong’s shout and all blood drains to your legs. You sprint into the main hall and spot Taeyong’s familiar pistol on the floor by the door to Yuta’s office, which is open. Your stomach lurches and panic seizes your brain. You fight down the rising nausea in your stomach and run through the door. 

Taeyong is bleeding on the floor in front of you, clutching his leg while Yuta stands by his desk, the same spot where he gave you this mission all those days ago. His gun is aimed directly at Taeyong. Without thinking, you hurl yourself into his path.

“Stop!” You shout. 

“Y/n!?” Yong shouts in disbelief. “What are you doing here!? I told you to stay there!”

You glare at Yuta who’s been frozen since you first stepped in his line of sight. “If you’re going to shoot him, you’ll have to shoot me first.”

Yuta stares at you, gun still aimed. His face is hard but uncertain. “You’d give up your life just for him?” You don’t respond but your expression is all Yuta needs as an answer. Taeyong gives a protesting groan behind you. The sound of gunfire tapers off in the distance. The raid sounds like it's coming to a close. Yuta releases a breath, his gun wavering. “All I wanted to do was take down the Scorpion. You made it so, so difficult. I only retaliated.” Yuta grits his teeth.

“You harassed my people, infiltrated my organization, and tried to assassinate me. Taking her was the final slight,” Taeyong growled. “Don’t act like you are the victim.”

Yuta glowers. “Y/n, I will let you walk out of here right now if you step out of the way.”

“Walk away, huh? So what about that ultimatum you gave me when you brought me back here?” You ask him. “You were never going to kill me if I didn't give you intel because you can’t do it.”

Yuta avoids your eyes and doesn't respond. You were right; he has a soft spot for you too. “So, what’s it going to be? Will you kill us both?” you ask.

Silence fills the room. His gun is still trained on you. Then, you hear Taeyong’s voice from behind you. “She's pregnant.” 

Shock envelops Yuta’s face. His gun wobbles before he lowers it. He seems to search for confirmation in your face and finds it. He groans,  running his hand through his hair. “Fuck.”

You stare at him, perplexed. He turns around and grips the edge of his desk, head falling forward in defeat. When you realize he’s not going to shoot, you immediately kneel by Taeyong’s side and check his injuries. There's a gash below his knee but it doesn't seem terribly serious. “Y/n,” Taeyong whispers. “Grab my gun back there and shoot him while he’s distracted.” 

You freeze. “What? I can’t do that.”

Taeyong’s brows furrow. “Y/n-“

“She won’t kill me if that’s what you're whispering about," Yuta calls, sighing heavily before turning around to face you once more. “She’s too soft. Too attached.” His head falls forward. “What a fucking weakness,” he mumbles, almost to himself.

“And you?” Taeyong glares. “You won't kill me as soon as she's not in your line of sight?”

Yuta only looks on tiredly. “No. I’m not going to take a father away from his kid before it's even born.” Silence fills the room. It looks like Taeyong doesn’t know what to think. You remember how Yuta has always refused to hurt children and, if he could help it, parents. It's why he and his father gave you a chance to join this mob when your family was on the run. Similar to Taeyong, there's a softness behind the ruthlessness that sets their mobs apart from all others in the city. “Everything I built is gone,” Yuta sighs tiredly. “Most of my men are dead or injured, my base is discovered.”

You help Taeyong sit up, and tear a cloth from your shirt to wrap it around his wound. “We both did some bad damage,” Taeyong grunts as you tend to his injury. “We seriously compromised each other. Worse yet, we’re the two biggest mobs in the city and now we’re handicapped. The worse, less moral, more violent ones will try to take over.”

Yuta hisses. “The ones peddling drugs and trafficking humans. They will turn this city into a fucking warzone while vying for power.” 

Taeyong nods in agreement. His bleeding seems to have stopped. He sits up with a wince. Yuta stares glumly at the ground.

“Maybe you both can come to a truce,” You suggest, catching their attention. “I know we’re literally sitting in the aftermath of a bloodbath of a mob war but… if you have a common interest, maybe you can come to an agreement or ceasefire or….” you trail off as both men stare at you as if you’ve grown two heads. You sigh exasperatedly. “Do you want Johnny’s mob taking over? The one that's already terrorizing that club we went to and probably every other establishment in the city?”

Taeyong and Yuta exchange glances. They seem to come to a begrudging, silent understanding. Taeyong turns to you. “Ceasefire for now. We’ll… talk about this later. We have to check on our members.”

You eye Yuta in question. His eyes are narrowed and you know he’s mulling over every angle and opportunity in his head. In the end, he exhales. “Fine. Ceasefire. Go tend to your wounded.”

...

In all, a handful were injured. A few died. You find Jungwoo unharmed and give him the tightest possible hug. Once you leave the base, Taeyong gets checked over at a hospital. They don’t ask any questions, as always, since they have a general idea he’s with the mob that runs the city. You stay with him overnight until he's discharged in the morning. Both of you return to his place after that and try to recover over the next few days. Taeyong orders the office closed for a few weeks. He says that, after everything that’s happened, people need time to process the loss of life, assess the damages and heal mentally and physically. Yuta honors the ceasefire and, for a few weeks, it seems as if there is peace.

A few days after the raid, you finally register the dull anger broiling in your stomach. You find yourself keeping a slight distance from Taeyong whenever he’s nearby and you realize, for the first time, that you are angry with him. He realizes this too and finally speaks on it one evening when both of you are watching television in his bedroom. “Back in Yuta’s base, you know why I had to leave you in there, right?”

“No, I don't.” You sit up from the bed to face him. “You almost died. Maybe it all would’ve been better if I joined and we talked Yuta down sooner.” 

Taeyong frowns. “Or he would’ve hurt you. You trust in his goodness too much. I was only trying to protect you.”

“It didn't feel like protection. It felt like an easy way to guarantee your peace of mind at the cost of my free will.” You stare at him. “You cannot make decisions for me.”

“I can if you’re carrying our child.” He glares back.

You purse your lips. “I’m aware that I need to protect myself and the baby, but I wanted to protect other people too, just like you. That isn’t something you can order me not to do. You’re not the Boss in everything.” You pull away from him and slide off the bed.

“Y/n.” His expression of anger turns to pleading.

“Do you know how helpless I felt? You could have been dying and I would have been stuck behind that door. And if all of you were killed, what then? I’d just be stuck there, with no one to come get me out.” 

“But we weren't killed and you did get out. Somehow,” he says bluntly. His expression looks like a parent’s who is chastising their child for disobeying orders. The look you gave must have been so full of disappointment since he sighs and acquiesces. “I wasn't thinking much at the time. I was just afraid you’d deny my order and run into combat, which you did. I… needed to keep you somewhere safe.”

“Keep me or lock me?” You huff. “It felt so insulting to be physically locked away and not being allowed to do what I thought was best at the time in my mind because fear clouded yours. Why are your wishes more important than mine?” 

Taeyong visibly slumps against the headboard. “No. They are not more important. I was just.. selfish and scared. When they..” He falters before his voice comes out shaky. “When they came here, put a gun to your head and took you from my own place where I should've been able to keep you safe, I thought you were dead. I lost it. Every minute when I didn't know you were okay, I was losing my mind.” He releases a heavy sigh, blinking back tears. “Then when I saw you again unharmed in that cell, I was so relieved. I couldn't bear the thought of you being in danger again and I just acted on my feelings.” He swallows. “I’m sorry.”

Your heart lurches. You climb back into his bed and take him into your arms. “I didn't think of that. I’m sorry too.” He sniffs and presses himself closer. What a mess, you think. Injured twice, put in danger’s path too many times, all with a baby on the way. “This is no life for a child,” you sigh, tickling his hairs under your chin. “I wish we could get away from all this.”

His hand presses against your stomach. “Maybe we can.” You glance at him in question. “I can step down as boss. We can abandon this violent life, raise our child safely and live in peace.”

You blink, gazing down at him. “That sounds like a dream. But you said the mob was compromised and the city will suffer.”

His words come out muffled against your chest. “Maybe Yuta could take over.”

Your brain grinds to a halt. “What?” 

You pull back to look at him. He sighs, propping his head on his arm. “I don’t know. I don’t know if it’s a good idea. I can’t think straight right now. Too much has happened recently.” He glances at you. “But we originally kept other mobs in check. We kept the city stable and safe to an extent. But now, we’ve destroyed each other. Others will challenge us. If we merge into one organization, we can consolidate power and retain our standing.” He chances a look up at you. “Besides, I’m impressed with how he was so good at finding out our top secret information. He might be a boon to our team.”

You release a breath, sliding down against the headboard. “I never thought I’d hear that from you.”

He shrugs. “I didn’t know the extent of the damage we were doing to each other until we were in his base, surrounded by bodies, from both sides. Not to mention our months of attacks against each other before that.” he sighs. “People have taken it hard here. We are weakened.” He says. “And Yuta didn’t…. he kill me when he could have. I would have killed him in his position. I guess that’s something.”

You gaze at him. “So is this the truce you will offer him? Merging? And you’ll step down and make him boss?”

He winces. “I don’t know about making him boss. He can run his own unit as part of our larger organization if he chooses. But I’ll step down.” He says, smiling. “And we can live far away from the violence and never think about it again.”

“That… sounds almost too good to be true.”

He takes your hand and kisses it. “We deserve it after all these years. I want to be a father rather than a kingpin. I’d much rather be by your side raising our baby and being your h… um,” he averts his eyes and clears his throat. “Being domestic.”

Your heart melts, noticing the pink tint to his cheeks. “You do love domesticity.” You chuckle. “Who will take your place then?”

Taeyong grins. “I think someone deserves a promotion.”

...

Over the next few weeks, Taeyong notifies Yuta of the proposed plan, who begrudgingly accepts. He also tells the office about the news of the merger, earning loud protests of outrage. “We’re supposed to work alongside the people that killed us!?” One member shouts. 

Taeyong gazes around the conference room. “It’s either this or we close down. Given what’s happened, it will be extremely difficult to climb back to where we were,” he explains. “We will be vulnerable to attacks by other mobs and more people will die. If we don’t come to an agreement with Yuta, he might begin attacking us again as well. This will repeat for a while.” Grumbled murmurs echo around the room. “Also, I will be stepping down.”

That gets even louder shouts. Taeyong raises his hands signaling everyone to settle down.

“You said we’re compromised but you’re going to leave us without a leader!?” A woman protests.

“Someone will replace me, of course. Someone who is far better suited to the position than me, someone who is much more intelligent and perceptive will be a force to be reckoned with if anyone dares challenge us from now on.” Taeyong smiles, eyes fixing on one person. “Jungwoo.”

Jungwoo looks stunned. The mumbles of protests pause entirely for a few moments before they turn into cheers and hollers. Someone slaps him on the back a few times in congratulations and he blinks as if in a daze. “Me? As Boss?” 

Taeyong grins. “Do you accept?” Jungwoo blinks furiously before nodding. “Then, congratulations.” The room bursts into applause. Absolutely no one objects to his appointment. Jungwoo has always been the most intelligent and discerning, and will no doubt be a force to be reckoned with against any of the mob’s enemies. Within a few days, Taeyong officially hands over the position, his office, and the reigns to his right hand.

...

In the following weeks, Taeyong exchanges a few calls with Yuta, mostly on how to merge the organizations, and discuss grievances and conditions. They settle on some specific deal you don’t understand, but it must be adequate since Yuta agrees to merge and actually comes over to the office for a few meetings. Within a month, they officially merge and things seem to stabilize and run smoothly. Jungwoo takes to the new role quickly as well. He already knows the inner workers of the mob so he needs very little training. In turn, Taeyong is able to resign fully. Jungwoo insists on throwing a going away party, filled with some teary goodbyes, congratulations and well wishes with the pregnancy. From here, you can begin to believe things will actually get better. 

With all the new free time, Taeyong is able to help take care of you for the rest of your pregnancy. He supports you through all your woes, like making you food, holding your hair back while you’re hurling into the toilet, massaging your aching muscles. Some nights he props his chin onto your stomach, speaking to the baby with a light in his eyes. It’s the deepest peace you’ve ever felt. A month later, your morning sickness evens out and you identify the faintest change in the protrusion of your stomach. A baby bump. When you first show him, Taeyong is over the moon. He can’t keep his hands off your tummy. His eyes shine and lips are curled into a smile that stays for a week. It’s also when you chance a question at Taeyong that you meant as a suggestion, just something to think about, but it changes everything. It’s when you’re lounging in bed, one of those restful days. Sunlight pours in through the blinds and the television is low in the background. “Taeyong?” He hums in question. “Do you want to get married?”

A beat of silence passes. “...What?” You chance a glance at him. He’s absolutely shocked. Heat flares on your cheeks in embarrassment. 

“I don't know… I just thought maybe someday we can. I know we don't have to, but I just thought we’re going to be together… I mean, forever, right?” You blush. “That came out cheesy. I meant neither of us have any intention to leave, so might as well-”

He cuts you off with a kiss and pulls away before you can even process it. “Yes, yes, yes,” he litters butterfly kisses across your face and pulls you into a hug. You melt, laughing into his shoulder. “I thought you wouldn’t want to.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” You giggle. “We’re already having a whole kid together.”

“I don’t know,” he pulls back, a smile curled wide over his lips. It’s wonderful to see him happy. “I want to. I definitely want to.”

Your heart soars. “Then let’s get married.”

....

It’s short work to plan your wedding. Neither if you want it too large, but much of the office is invited to reception afterwards. It arrives in another month, your belly swelling a little bit more by then, but not noticeable under your wedding dress. The ceremony is emotional and filled with reverence. You’ll never forget the sight of your groom in his tux, shining eyes and smile, calling you his wife and him your husband, the words like magic on your tongue. The reception afterwards is a jubilant contrast, full of dancing and drinking. A few colleagues, including Jungwoo, pat you on the back in congratulations. You pass the night in a tizzy of dancing and laughing until a familiar figure enters the hall. You think it’s a stranger before you realize it’s Yuta. He spots you, eyes running over your wedding dress before giving you a smile. “Yuta?” You ask in disbelief. “I can’t believe…”

“That I'm here at your wedding? Neither can I.” He laughs a little, surveying the venue hall before focusing on you again. “Taeyong invited me.” You stare at him in surprise. He shrugs. “We are business partners and all.” He grabs a glass of champagne off of a passing waiter’s dish. “Surprisingly, it seems that your husband and I work well together.”

You bite your tongue but can’t seem to hold the words back. “How can we know that you’re not going to split and attack us again when you’ve recovered enough power?”

He blinks. “What, and repeat the same cycle that ended me up here? Don’t worry. I’m not that stupid, sweetheart.” He says, and suddenly, you’re the one who feels stupid. “You look beautiful by the way. Your father would have been proud.” Emotion grips you without warning. Yuta gives you a final smile and turns away, sipping his champagne as he disappears in the mesh of guests and dancing.

The rest of the evening passes in a blur of chatter, smiles, drinks, dancing and food. When the night ends, you and Taeyong climb into his car to the whoops and hollers of the crowd, and drive back to his place. You both would have been tipsy out of your mind and gone straight to bed, but since you can’t drink, Taeyong refuses to as well, claiming emotional support. That leaves time for other things.

“Alright, how do you want this to go down?” You ask, undoing your jewelry in front of his vanity.

Taeyong laughs, unzipping your dress when you offer your back to him. “You mean for our wedding night?” You nod as you slip off the gown and sigh at the freedom of not being weighed down by a thousand pounds of fabric. He eyes you as you undo the rest of your jewelry, your hair and underclothes. “I can think of one thing.” 

“And what’s that?” You ask, catching sight of him through the mirror. He’s leaning against the bedpost with his arms crossed, still dressed in his tux but without the jacket, looking as handsome as ever. 

"I think I'd like to be your plaything for a while.” Your brain grinds to a halt. You turn to blankly stare at him. He smirks. "What's the matter?” He reaches out to place his hands on your hips. "I promise I won't resist whatever you want to do to me.”

You swallow thickly. “You’re teasing me.”

"Oh, I'm not teasing you at all, love,” He smiles softly, his hands tightening slightly around your hips. "I'm giving myself up to you.” You blink hard. A former kingpin at the complete mercy of his wife. Just the thought of it has heat blazing through your body. His voice breaks you out of your thoughts. "Play with me, tease me, do this however you want. I’m yours,” his lips brush your jaw. “I’ll be your good boy.”

You inhale deeply as his arms wrap around your waist and press you to him. “You’ll do anything?” He hums in acknowledgement, kissing down your neck. “Alright,” you test, “kneel for me.”

He smirks, and steps away from you. He then kneels down, lowering himself until his knees hit the ground and he’s peering up at you. “You… you actually did it.” you breathe.

His eyes dance with amusement. "What, did you expect me to disobey you?” He chuckles softly, and his eyes going dark. "Or is it just seeing me on my knees that's making you lose your train of thought?”

“Uh… yes.. it's the knees.”

He grins, reaching out to caress your calf. “Now what should I do?”

“I don't know. I didn't think I'd get this far.”

He laughs. Then, he takes your hand and begins kissing your palm. “Use me, love.”

Heat flares in your stomach. You cup his cheek gently. “Would anyone have suspected the mob king lord of everything was so submissive? And obedient at that?”

He nuzzles into your hand. “I think they all know me pretty well. Besides, I’m only like this for you.”

“Hmm,” you move your hand to cup his chin and rest your thumb on his bottom lip. You do it out of curiosity, but his lips close around your thumb without hesitation. His dark eyes burn into yours as his tongue circles your thumb. You are struck with a flashback to that evening in the office, how he held you down against his desk with his gaze burning into yours and ate you within an inch of your life. Heat burns and pools through your body. You pull your hand away, tug him up to stand again and kiss him hard. He groans into your lips, arms wrapping tightly around your waist and mouth parting immediately to grant you entrance. He lets you completely dominate the kiss, your tongue sliding past his lips. His demeanor is so different from that time in his office. He’s much more vocal now, whiney even. His lips are soft and pliant, his brows knitted in slight desperation, his hands roaming over your body. You break for air and plant kisses under his jaw.

“My good boy,” you mumble. His eyes flutter closed and he releases a loud groan. You pull away to take him in. His lips are stained from your lipstick, his hair that was neatly combed before now slightly messy, his dress shirt rumpled, eyes lidded and mouth panting. “Get on the bed.” He obeys quickly. You watch as he settles against the headboard before waiting for your next order, his eyes expectant and eager to please. “Take off your vest and shirt.” He listens without complaint. He tilts his head back to undo the tie at his collar before throwing it to the floor, then unbuttons his vest and dress shirt underneath. He works with urgency, nimble fingers determinedly undoing every part of his ensemble all because you asked. 

Now free from your garments except your slip underdress, you comfortably climb onto the bed to rest beside him. His dark eyes fixate on you as the final button is undone. He tears off his dress shirt and throws it off to the side, revealing his familiar bare torso that encourages your eyes to run across his tattoos.“You’re beautiful,” you mumble before leaning over and kissing him deep. He melts immediately, hands cupping your cheeks to pull you closer. You pull away abruptly to leave hot, open mouthed kisses down his jaw and neck until he’s groaning lowly and melting into the mattress. You nip his skin with the slightest nick of your teeth as you travel down to his collarbone. It has a profound effect on him, pulling shallow breaths and moans from his lips. Your lips travel over his heart and down his chestline. His breathing turns harsh, and moans grow louder. You opt then to lick down his abdomen, leaving him shivering. 

You glance up at him. You figure your gaze must have been dark and full of lust because he looks completely wrecked and held immobile. His cheeks are flushed, lips stained red, pupils dilated. You maintain eye contact as you kiss and lick and nip down the rest of his abdomen, urging his muscles to quiver and flex the lower you go. Once you get to his pantline, he’s already straining against his slacks. You press a final kiss to the spot below his navel, earning a jump of his muscle and a low groan from him, before undoing his belt and tugging the garment completely off his legs, along with his boxers. You don't wait to press kisses to his thighs. His hard cock is so easily within reach but you choose to litter kisses along his hips, thighs, and navel instead. You tease until he’s whimpering and pressing his hips up from the mattress and towards your mouth. When you kiss the juncture of his thigh and pelvis, he gasps, tangles his fingers in your hair and moans. “Please, Y/n.” 

“Please what?”

His hazy eyes manage to focus on you. “Please stop teasing.” 

You hum, moving to suck the juncture of his pelvis while your hand not-so-accidentally grazes his balls. “You mean like this?”

He gasps harshly, fingers tightening in your hair, head tilting against his pillow. “Y-Yes, yes like that.”

“But I don’t want to stop. Not until you’re completely gone, and begging and teary for me.” You see him swallow, eyes darkening a few shades. He barely has time to find a response before you’re back to kissing, sucking, and biting his thighs until he’s panting and whining once more. After a few more minutes, you can tell that his mental cohesion is slipping. His brows are knitted, bottom lip bitten and red, eyes helpless with the slightest hint of desperate tears.

“Please, please, please Y/n,” he babbles, gasping at your tongue on his hip bone. His hands are still in your hair and you allow them to stay there so long as he isn't forcing your head towards where he needs you the most.

“Just a little longer. You said you wanted to be my plaything, didn’t you?”

He shivers at that, eyes clenching shut. His cheeks are flush much more now. “I can’t take it anymore.”

You hum as you mouth along his pelvis. “Tell me what you want.”

“You mouth,” he moans brokenly.

“You already have my mouth,” you say, pointedly ignoring the straining, leaking cock within reach.

His eyes fly open when you mouth his balls, suckling the skin. He shivers hard, eyes rolling back. He pants harshly, fighting to remember words. He trembles under you, hands shaky in your hair. “On my cock, please, please.”

“As you wish.” When your lips close around his cock finally,  his face twists into a pained grimace. You slowly stroke him with your lips, tongue swirling around his length, pulling harsher breaths and shivers from him. His eyelids flutter and are so deeply lidded they are almost closed. He seems to fight to keep them open if only to take in the sight of you between his legs. You take him up till his base, enveloping him entirely with his mouth until his cock hits the back of your throat. He arches and releases a deep groan. He twitches in your mouth, and you realize he’s already close. You take the liberty to speed up, your lips meeting the hilt each time, tongue swirling around his length. He gasps harshly for breath, back arching, hips trembling and bucking up to meet you before you hold them down with your hands. You suck him faster, making his moans grow higher in pitch until he’s suddenly seizing up, tight and still, his head pressing back into the pillows and back arched beautifully. His warmth fills your mouth and you groan, relishing it as you swallow. He’s shaking everywhere as collapses on the bed with another breathless moan. 

You continue licking him clean while he pants to catch his breath. He’s still hard in your mouth, you realize, and you can’t help continue sucking him until he’s flinching and tugging you off of him by your hair. “Ah, too much.” You relent, thinking you’re tormented him enough for one night, and press a final kiss to his hip. He pulls you up to kiss him, hands reverently cupping your cheeks, mouth and tongue moving leisurely against you. When he pulls away, he has stars in his eyes. “You’re amazing.”

You laugh. “It was that good, huh?”

He presses another kiss. “I think I almost blacked out.”

You laugh. He guides your leg over his hip to straddle him comfortably. You kiss his palm. “Y/n,” his eyes shine, cheeks still flushed. “Tell me I’m perfect.” You blink at him and he explains. “The first day you came to us, when we talked in my office, I told you I looked like a toad and you said I was perfect.” He flushes “I couldn't tell you at the time how it made me feel, but now I can.” He kisses your hand. “Tell me I’m perfect. Tell me everything.”

Your heart melts at his pleading, vulnerable eyes. You hope he knows you’ll give him everything he asks for. You give him a soft kiss. “You’re perfect,” you say, watching his eyes glow with your praise. You litter kisses across his cheeks and forehead. “You’ve always been perfect. You’re sweet and strong and kind and you’re mine. Absolutely perfect.”

He shivers and groans, hands pulling you roughly against his lips to kiss you. You melt into him, hands running through his hair, breathing in the lingering scent of his cologne. You slip off your underdress and the rest of your garments, watching his eyes darken. When you straddle him again, you’re already so wet from having him in your mouth from before. You slide him in easily up til the hilt, pleasure bursting across your eyelids while he grips your hips like a vice, lips parted and head tilted back against the pillows. This time, it’s slow and passionate, just like your first. You bend low to kiss him and barely allow a few inches of distance the entire time you ride him. You relish his groans, his fluttering eyes. Praises fall from your lips in abundance, without pause or restraint, and you watch the flush of his cheeks grow darker after each one until he's vulnerable and moaning and tucking his head into your neck, coming inside you a second time with a broken whimper. It hurls you towards your own edge, gripping and contracting around his length as you hold onto him for dear life.

When the moments passed, the vice grips on each other loosen, and both of you catch your breath. He doesn’t let you roll off him onto the mattress. Instead he holds you close, pressing one hand to your stomach, which still looks barely different than before, but his eyes shine as if the baby is already here. 

...

The rest of the pregnancy is blissful. It consists of buying baby items, picking out names, cleaning out Taeyong’s guest room and setting it up for the baby, though both of you know it will probably end up sleeping in your room with the guest room used for nothing other than storage. As the date approaches, Taeyong gets increasingly more anxious. You try to calm him and redirect his focus to baby proofing the entire penthouse, which works well. He’s adorable, nervous and tittering, worried if he’ll be a good enough father. You remind him again and again that he will be.

When the day finally comes and contractions erupt and you’re whisked away to the hospital, Taeyong is a mess. Jungwoo even visits to calm him down, which works. By the end of a long day, a baby girl is born. He’s absolutely enamored, and has her in his arms all night, rocking her gently, cooing and speaking soft words that have her falling quiet to listen. Sometimes, he remembers to tear his eyes away to give you a teary, beaming smile. It’s enough to make you the happiest person alive. Upon coming home, it takes many sleepless nights for you two to get the hang of it - the feeding, the crying, the burping. Within a few weeks, though, it’s a natural order, a timetable, a cycle. Tonight is one of those rare ones when you’ve miraculously gotten the baby to sleep a few hours longer. Taeyong and you relish the few moments of quiet and try to get some sleep.

“You’re a good mother, you know,” he mumbles sleepily in bed, arm thrown around your waist. “I’m glad she looks like you.”

His words envelop you in warmth. “I think she looks more like you, actually. Don’t you see her giant brown eyes that take up half her face?”

He chuckles and makes your heart flutter even after all this time. “My eyes are not that big.” 

You cup his cheek. “They are and they’re wonderful and I’m glad she has them.”

He cheeks warm under your palm. He pulls you close and kisses you. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

A high pitched, piercing cry rings out, startling you both before you’re groaning. “She gets that voice from you, though,” he says.

“She does not!” You complain. He gives you a pointed look at your near screech of protest. “Fine, maybe a little.”

He chuckles, stopping you from slipping out of bed. “I’ll get her, don’t worry. Get some sleep.” You sigh in thanks.He presses a kiss to your forehead before he’s slipping out the door. The piercing crying suddenly quiets down once his coos interrupt the noise and soon, the house is silent with no sound other than a baby’s whimpers and your husband’s soft words. 

In that moment you’re grateful for all the choices you’ve been able to make. 

#taeyong #nct #nct smut #taeyong smut #nct scenarios #taeyong scenarios #nct taeyong #nct fics #taeyong fics #nct imagines #taeyong imagines #jungwoo #nct mafia au #nct mafia fic

[astayinwonderland]

We can stay like this forever | lee taeyong

pairing: taeyong x f.reader

genre: smut | romance | exes to lovers

wc: 1.4k

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

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

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

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

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

When you texted him to come over, he was hopeful. Were you willing to give him a second chance and get back together? All thoughts of his wish coming true evaporate when you greet him with that stupid box. He doesn’t want the box. He doesn’t need the box. His hoodies, letters, plushies… everything is yours. He is yours, even though you seem not to see it. 

“It’s good to see you, my sweet,” he smiles, his eyes seeking something in yours. Some type of sign that you are still you. Some type of sign that you might still maybe love him. 

You immediately close your eyes as soon as you hear my sweet leave his lips. It is indescribable what those two words do to you. You missed him so much, but he never called or showed up once you broke up. How could he want you back? You know you are not perfect, but the love you have for him makes you better. It makes you feel real and seen. Of course, that was when you were together. This is why you have to give everything back. It is just too much to have things reminding you of Taeyong. 

“Good to see you too,” your voice is soft, barely audible. You can’t look at him, you’re afraid you’d break and cry. 

Before Taeyong can break the awkward silence that followed, the rumble of thunder makes you jump. 

“Is it raining?” you ask, making your way to the window. 

Outside you can see how the weather’s changed. Grey-to-black clouds pour rain so heavily you can’t see much outside. You sigh and as you turn Taeyong is right there. His beautiful eyes stare right back at yours. 

“You scared me,” you laugh, attempting to clear the awkwardness. 

“I guess I should go… It was– a real pleasure seeing you, my sweet.” 

“You really like calling me that, don’t you?” 

Taeyong laughs, making you swoon. He has the loveliest laugh, you’ve always said so. 

“Of course,” he comes a bit closer. “You always will be my sweet.” 

“You can’t say that,” you shake your head. 

“Why not?” 

“What happens when you are dating someone else?” 

Silence. 

The truth is, you regret the words that came out of your mouth. Just thinking about it hurts so bad. 

“I don’t want to date anyone else,” he softly holds your hand, drawing circles with his thumb. 

Suddenly you can’t move, you can’t think, you can’t breathe. 

“Uh– I should probably go…” he continues. 

“No, wait! You can’t leave it’s pouring out there.” 

“You sure you want me to stay?” 

You nod. He shamelessly looks at your lips, making a silent prayer you would let him kiss him. Even if it is the last time he gets to kiss you. 

“Fuck, baby,” and you just throw your arms around his neck, hugging him so tight. 

“I miss you,” he whispers. 

So you kiss him. Your body goes against the voice inside your head that asks you to stop, you broke up. But the way he melts into you tells you to keep going. Taeyong’s arms hold you firmly against him, almost as if he is scared that you will change your mind and run away from him. 

He sucks on your bottom lip and you lose all sense of time. You should have never broken up, he is the light in your path of darkness. Removing your clothing you guide him to your bedroom, where you’ve shared countless nights of passion, long talks, and binge-watching TV. You gently push him onto the bed, his eyes spark as he can’t hide his excitement. 

“Is– is this okay?” he asks. 

“Yes,” your voice is almost a breathy moan. 

So Taeyong thanks the heavens and immediately latches his mouth to your right nipple sucking as his hands caress your body, worshipping it. You close your eyes, lost in his touch, his breathing, his praises. 

“I missed you so much, my sweet. You’re perfect. All I want is to make you feel good, make you never forget me.” 

“How could I ever?” 

You pull his hair and a low groan leaves his mouth. Smiling, he stops to kiss your thighs, all the way to your clothed core. He can smell your arousal and feel how wet you are for him, you haven’t changed a bit and he is glad. Two months without having you was being in hell. Your moans get louder as he licks your entrance on top of the soaking fabric of your panties. 

Done with the teasing, you pull them down. 

“Please, baby– fuck me. I need you so bad,” you cry. 

Taeyong wants to take his time with you, but he can leave that for round two if you let him. Right now he will give you whatever you want like it’s his life mission because it is. The way your lips kiss him makes his heart beat so fast he feels it will burst out of his chest. You help him get rid of his clothes and kiss his chest, making a stop on his chest tattoo that drives you so insane. 

“Show me how much you’ve missed me, baby.” 

“You have no idea, my sweet.” 

He positions you to face down on the mattress, ass up, granting him perfect access to your cunt. Slender fingers tease your hole as his other hand pumps his erection. As Taeyong enters you, pleasure course your entire body. This is the man of your dreams, your perfect pair, fucking you till your eyes roll back. His cock, wet in your arousal abuses your hole, again and again, his hands firm on your hips as he thrust into you, fast. He missed this feeling. You are so warm, so sweet, so perfect. 

“We were made for each other. Shit… you feel so good, so– incredible.” 

You moan in response your face weighing on the mattress. Taeyong put one of his hands down your clit and slapped hard he earns a muffled cry. 

“I wanted this so much… faster.” 

And he obeys. He obeys because anything that comes out of your mouth automatically is an order for him. He is doomed and he knows it, he is in love. And to be honest, he wouldn’t like it any other way. 

Beads of sweat drip off his forehead as he rams into you, eager to make you cum. When his fingers pinch your clit and start moving in circles, adding pressure to it, you lose all composure. You are crying, pleading, moaning his name. 

“Taeyong, Taeyong, Taeyong…” 

How pretty his name sounds coming from your mouth. His other hand moves to your shoulder and he pulls you upwards, your back colliding with his chest as he keeps fucking you, now hitting that spot inside you. You see stars, you are so close. 

Taeyong kisses your neck, sucking your sensitive spot he knows so damn well. 

“Baby, I’m so close… f-fuck–ah!” 

“Me too. Cum for me! I wanna hear you…”

With a few more thrusts his warm cums fills you as he cries in your ear after his release, triggering your orgasm. It’s so intense your head feels lighter than a feather and your legs tremble. Taeyong holds you near him or else you will fall. He kisses your temple and shoulders again and again. 

“My sweet, sweet girl…” he breathes in your ear as you both come down from your high. 

You find yourself between Taeyong’s arms, cuddling, eyes closed. The box you once planned to return is already forgotten in your living room. Not a word is spoken, is like time didn’t pass and you want to stay here until the end of time. 

“I never stopped loving you,” you confess, eyes still closed. 

Now he hugs you even tighter. 

“Me neither.” 

“Can we stay like this for a while? you ask. 

“We can stay like this forever…” he kisses your cheek.

----------------------------------

a/n: this is pure ✨fiction✨

but my love for this man ain't... ˜ masterlist

#kpop smut #kpop fanfic #nct smut #nct 127 smut #taeyong fanfic #taeyong smut #taeyong imagines #taeyong scenarios #nct scenarios #nct imagines #taeyong nct #astayinwonderland #lee taeyong x reader #taeyong x reader #taeyong x you #lee taeyong smut

[lisired]

little do you know

pairing: taeyong x (f) reader

genre/warnings: smut, angst, bffs to fwb to lovers, cheating, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy!)

summary: 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.

word count: 14.9k

a/n: loosely inspired by don’t make it harder on me by chloe x halle. as always, feedback is appreciated!

Your heart beat for Jung Jaehyun. 

That was what you told yourself, over and over again. You wanted to convince yourself that at some point, you would believe it. After all, how could you not? He was everything any woman could have dreamed of in a man. Handsome, sensual, humorous and vulnerable. 

But he wasn’t Taeyong. 

Darn Taeyong. He left you. For good reason, but that was no excuse for you to linger around. Especially not when you were in a commited relationship with his friend. 

The moment you made it to your room after checking into the seaside resort, you immediately flopped onto the bed. A very large chunk of you wanted to draw away and hide, but you knew better. And an even larger chunk of you wanted to see Taeyong. 

Three years. That was how long you’d waited. If you were being honest, your heart couldn’t take anymore. You missed your best friend. 

Jaehyun came out of the bathroom, half-naked, one might add, and had a good laugh at the sight of you sulking on the bed. “Rise and shine, sleepyhead. We have a long day ahead of us.”

You made a noise of protest and wrapped your arms around one of the pillows tightly. You had little to no problem sharing a bed with Jaehyun. As expected, given you were a couple, though you slept in your own more often than not. 

Even though you had been together for nearly three years, Jaehyun hadn’t moved in with you or vice versa. It would seem that you and Jaehyun were very compatible. For one, both of you made your preference to take things slow very clear. Neither of you had been in a rush to move in with each other. Regardless, you’d slept in the same bed before, because you were comfortable. But you knew you weren’t ready for the next step, and Jaehyun never pushed you, because frankly, neither was he. 

Deep in your heart, you knew Jaehyun was more like a good friend to you than a lover. 

You heaved out a breath. “Do I have to?”

“Yes. Everyone will be expecting you. This is one of those rare moments where everyone will be together in one place. Do you know how hard it is to get Ten to stop moving?” Jaehyun joked, moving other to the bed to separate you from the pillow, much to your discontent. 

But you didn’t argue, because he was right and you knew it. You gave a wistful smile. Aging came with a vicious price, and for your friends, time was the luxury you couldn’t afford. Each of you had lives of your own, but no matter where you were, your friendship still stood strong. 

“Fine,” you grumbled, rolling out of bed and fishing through your suitcase. It contained a week’s worth of clothes - including swimsuits. 

Jaehyun snickered and slithered back into the bathroom to give you some privacy. In spite of the many, many times you'd seen each other naked. 

You threw on a bikini and styled yourself a little. Definitely not to impress anyone. Then, you heaved a sigh and let Jaehyun know that you were ready. Maybe even he could tell that you were far from. 

The entire elevator ride downstairs, you could feel your heart pound faster as you watched the numbers drop, indicating what floor you were on. It dinged and opened once you arrived at your destination, and Jaehyun held your hand in his, leading you outside. 

The sweet gesture made it a little easier to breathe, but you were still uneasy. What the hell were you even so scared of? It wasn’t like Taeyong had completely ghosted the hell out of you. The distance made it harder to keep in contact, but he made every effort to talk to you. You were still best friends and no amount of miles between you would change that. 

You just couldn’t get him out of your mind, no matter how hard you tried. No matter how much time had passed, you couldn’t forget the way it felt to be by his side, and you longed to feel that way again. 

No, you hissed to yourself. Taeyong is just your friend. Jaehyun is your boyfriend. You love him. 

And you truly did. But not the way you loved Taeyong. A love like that was irreplicable. 

The moon was on display in the evening sky, bright and full. It mirrored in the water. Strings of neon lights irradiated the beach for miles. There was a large pool squarely between the ocean and the resort and an array of chairs stretched across the sand underneath your feet. 

You were walking towards the group of people surrounding a bonfire at the beach, until you heard someone scream from behind you, “Boo!” 

Jaehyun jumped, your hand still in his, but you screamed as if you wanted your cries to be heard from the opposite end of the ocean. Behind you, the culprit was no other than Rosé. 

Rosé pointed her finger and laughed. “Works like a charm every time.”

You rolled your eyes and pulled her in for a hug. “What happened to saying ‘hi,’ or ‘hello,’” you complained, patting her back. 

She pouted. “I’m sorry, guys.” Then, released you promptly once she’d had her fill to give Jaehyun a turn. 

“What are your plans for the week?” Jaehyun asked, smiling sheepishly.

“Just checking in with my friends and family. As you would expect,” Rosé replied in her familiar aussie accent. Then, she turned to you. “Speaking of which, Taeyong is looking for you.”

You blinked. “Really?”

“Absolutely. He’s over there, all sullen and morose. You should go talk to him.”

Turning to take a peek, you spotted Taeyong by his lonesome at the water. He stood there, simply staring into the distance. Very much sullen and morose. 

Because of me. You bade the thought away with a tiny shake of your head. 

“Will you be okay?” you asked, shifting your glance to Jaehyun. 

Jaehyun didn’t tie you down. “Go. He’s your best friend and it’s been three years. Besides, Rosé and I have a lot to catch up on anyways.”

Rosé gave you an encouraging nod. You gave her one final hug and your boyfriend a brief kiss to cheek before they sent you off. And you blew out a heavy breath as you marched his way. 

It was no secret that when Taeyong left, your relationship - or lack of thereof - was on shaky ground. Neither of you ever explained what was happening between you, but even a blind man could tell you were sleeping with each other.

You had wanted more, but Taeyong loathed labels and despised commitment. Frankly, you couldn’t blame him. He watched his parents' marriage crumble before his eyes. He gave his heart to someone and they shattered it into pieces. That was why you never bothered to try to make him yours. You feared rejection like it haunted you every night in your nightmares. 

Foolishly, you had believed the feelings would eventually fade in his absence. But they only grew. No matter who tried to take his place in your heart. 

You slipped beside Taeyong with heavy breath. The air was fresh, but it hardly touched your lungs. He could see your reflection in the water, and turned around to face you before you could get a word in. “Hey.”

“Hi,” you croaked, chiding your heart to calm herself down. 

Taeyong smiled. You saw his eyes twinkle in the moonlight. “Long time no see.”

“Relax. I’ve seen you perfectly fine over FaceTime,” you joked. 

Taeyong rolled his eyes, but smiled and said, “You know it’s not the same. Come here.” 

You immediately crashed into his arms like you couldn’t bear the wait any longer. He was right - it wasn’t the same. You missed the way his embrace warmed you to the core. Taeyong's arms were always where you felt safest. As if no harm could reach you as long as he was there. 

Peering up against his chest, you finally got a good look at him. Was it possible that he looked even better than the last time you saw him three years ago? 

Moonlight nuzzled his skin, making him look even more breathtaking. Its beam lit his sharp features and blond hair. The last time you'd seen it in person, it was black with blue streaks. Keeping Taeyong away from his dye was a Sisyphean task.  

Taeyong - arms in a loop around your waist - asked, “You know what else is different?” 

“What?” 

“I couldn't do this.” 

He offered little to no preparation before you were being tickled mercilessly, sent into a fit of involuntary giggling. Given most of your body was exposed, you were ultimately rendered helpless against his nimble fingers. 

Fighting your way out of his clasp was mission impossible. Taeyong always had ample strength over you, biceps taut with muscle. You could only arduously plead for him to stop, but to no avail, nearly on the verge of tears of laughter. 

Taeyong heaved a pleased sigh and smirked. Needlessly to say, he missed this. “What’s the magic word?”

“Please,” you rasped, fighting for breath. And freedom.

“What’s that?” Taeyong mocked, molding his features as if he sincerely misheard you. “I can’t hear you. You’re laughing too hard.”

Louder, you begged, “Please!”

Taeyong dithered, but ultimately released you from his clutches. You heaved for breath, laughter fading into a smile on your lips as your ribs tensed with every inhale. Playfulness had always been an element of Taeyong’s nature, under the layer of his sober demeanor. Old habits die hard, you thought, melancholy. 

“Too much?” Taeyong asked. 

You shook your head, beaming. “I’m fine. Just out of breath.” 

Taeyong snickered. Of course, you were. Leave it to him to milk your lungs - and stamina - for all that they were worth. 

Taeyong gave you a once-over. With your body so close to his, he couldn’t ignore the way your warmth felt against his bare flesh. And promptly, his eyes fell on your figure. You were still beautiful. Some people deteriorated with age, but never you. It was like you could only become more gorgeous as the days passed. 

You looked the same, but still so different all at once. Perhaps most notably was your eyes. They gleamed, a little sadder than before. He couldn’t help but think that that was because of him. 

Then his eyes fell lower. The bikini you wore complemented your frame a little too goddamn well. Once upon a time, he owned your body. He recalled all those times he made you scream his name for the world to hear. 

Taeyong swiftly swept those memories away. Like hell he would catch a boner at the beach, which would definitely happen the longer he thought about the way you felt around him. Besides, your body didn’t belong to him anymore. And neither did your heart. 

Your heart beat for Jaehyun. 

You cleared your throat. “So, uh - how have you been?”

“I can’t complain,” Taeyong replied, nodding his head. “My grandmother is doing a whole lot better than she was three years ago. The meds have been a great help. As you can see, she’s well enough to go without me again.”

“That’s wonderful news.” You always adored Mrs. Lee. The moment you discovered the ailing condition she was in, your heart hurt for her. 

Taeyong smiled thinly. “It is. It hurt seeing her like that everyday. I was so scared of losing her.”

You nodded in understanding. Above all, you knew that was Taeyong’s greatest fear in general - losing someone he treasured. He had a heart too big for his body. When he received the call from the hospital about his grandmother, Taeyong didn’t hesitate to travel across the globe to take care of her. Even on such short notice. 

The entire trajectory of his life changed with one phone call. He had to drop everything to be there for her. The life he had made for himself here. Even if she didn’t make it, Taeyong knew he had to be there for her in her final moments. 

You both respected and understood the rationale behind his abrupt withdrawal - which Taeyong was endlessly grateful for - but watching him leave wounded you like nothing else. 

You endeavored to fill the void in his absence. That was where Jaehyun came in. You started seeing each other only a few months after Taeyong left for Seoul and began dating not too long after. You liked Jaehyun, but it wasn’t the same. And it wasn’t him; it was you. Regardless of how good a man was to you, none of that mattered if he wasn’t Taeyong. 

Desperately did you want to forget about Taeyong and the way he made you feel. It would have been no use waiting around for him in the first place. He would never let you in. He never did. 

None of that ever happened. When Jaehyun made love to you, you thought of Taeyong. The way his calloused hands felt on your body. How he strung you to orgasm time after time without fail. When Jaehyun took you out on dates, you imagined it was Taeyong spoiling you. You couldn’t shake the thought of him; couldn’t shake the feelings you had for your best friend. 

They said time was the best healer, but you were still head over heels in love with a boy that was too scared to love you back. 

“I missed you, Taeyong,” you admitted in a soft voice. 

Taeyong avoided your eyes, facing the ocean. You did, too. “I missed you, too. It wasn’t easy, you know. Leaving. I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t you dare apologize for doing what you needed to do,” you chastised. “I understand. We would have all done the same thing if we were you. Don’t sweat it.”

“Thank you. I needed to hear that.”

You nudged his side a little. “What are best friends for?” 

That stung like hell. What if he told you that he wanted more than that? 

The two of you talked for a little on the shore, feet dug in the wet sand. You watched the moon wallow in the glistening waters. It served as a rough reminder to you. The way it felt when your body was in one place with one man, but your heart was across the pacific ocean with another. 

Above all, you wished he would have never stolen it from you. 

It became too much after a while and Taeyong made an excuse about neglecting the rest of friends to avoid spending further one-on-one time with you. No one interrupted. Unsurprisingly. The two of you had been closer than ever. They knew better. 

You were a bit hurt, but more so relieved. You felt like you couldn’t breathe next to Taeyong. Joining the rest of your friends felt like a breath of fresh air. 

The ten of you gathered around the bonfire, chatting and catching up. Taeyong wasn't the only one that had come from abroad. Lisa was visiting from Thailand, Rosé had returned from New Zealand, and Ten was… everywhere. A successful career in modeling would do that to you. 

Miami was the heart of your friendship. It was where you had met and where you would always meet again. Most of you were from different places, but it would always be a special spot for your group of friends. And no matter where you were, as long as you were together, you were home. 

After a while, you slipped away to grab a drink from the bar hut. From the distance, you could see Taeyong laughing.

You had gotten so used to loving him from afar. Even when he wasn’t across the ocean, he was still a world away. 

Rosé stole a seat at the barstool beside you, following your gaze. “You missed him, huh?”

For a brief second, your head snapped in her direction. You would never forget what a great friend she was. Easy to confide in, capable of garnering all your secrets in her palm. But this was different. “Of course. I missed you all,” you replied, deliberately straying away from the narrow path she was leading you down. 

Rosé gave you an unconvinced look. “Uh huh. And it has nothing to do with the two of you sleeping with each other?” 

You were borderline affronted she would even ask you that. You glanced away. “That didn’t mean anything. We were just a pair of horny fucks. Taeyong didn’t want anything serious anyways.”

“But did you?” 

You bristled. Curse her. Even in high school, she could always see dead through you. “No,” you lied through your teeth. “Besides, it wouldn’t matter if I did. That was three years ago. I have Jaehyun now.” 

“Love has no expiration date,” Rosé told you, unsparing. You sensed no foul intentions from her, but something about it made you dangerously uneasy. “Some people spend their whole lives hopelessly in love with the same person.”

Your brows furrowed. That’s odd, you thought to yourself. Why was she hell-bent on trying to convince you to admit you had feelings for Taeyong? 

Maybe it was nothing. You and Rosé went way back, as did the rest of the group. There wasn’t a mean bone in her body. 

You’re just overthinking it, you reasoned. Taeyong coming back has you overwhelmed with emotions. 

“I guess,” you said half-heartedly, downing another shot. You’d be damned if you somehow managed to get through the night sober. 

Rosé discerned that you wouldn’t give an inch and stood to her feet, smiling and patting your back gently before she left to regroup with the others. You followed suit. 

For the rest of the evening, you tried your best to stick close to your boyfriend. And away from Taeyong. More than anything, you needed a distraction. The closer you were to him, the more thoughts of your best friend ran rampant in your mind. 

You wanted to forgo every thought of him, but it was significantly easier said than done. It was like everything stopped then suddenly hit you all at once now that he had returned, and you didn’t know how to cope. 

Alcohol had the opposite of the intended effect. You were hyper focused on every tiny detail, noticing even the most mundane things about him. You could have paid your bills with your raw love for Taeyong, but under the influence, it was worth its weight in gold. 

“I’m tired,” you whispered to Jaehyun, patting his arm. “I’m going back to the room. Come back when you’re ready.”

Jaehyun nodded and gave you a swift kiss to the cheek. “Don’t wait up.”

You smiled, bid mostly everyone goodnight, and went on your way. Strangely enough, Taeyong had disappeared in the millisecond that you’d glanced away. 

You wrapped a towel around your body. When you were finally inside of the resort, you were relieved by the warm indoor air. It wasn’t exactly true that you were tired, but you needed a breather. Another second and it was guaranteed that you would lose whatever bit of mind you still had. 

Ironically, when the elevator opened, Taeyong glanced up from his phone and faced you. He cocked a brow. “And where do you think you’re sneaking off to?” 

“Upstairs,” you stammered, and promptly scolding yourself for doing so. “I’m spent and decided to call it a night.”

Taeyong bobbed his head and wondered if he had anything to do with it. You weren’t subtle in the slightest earlier, sneaking glances at him. Sneaking wasn’t an apt term. 

“Would it be weird if I walked you to your room?” 

You swallowed thickly. You had made so many memories with Taeyong in a single lifetime that every tiny thing reminded you of him. You remembered those days when he would walk you home, especially at night. Like hell he would let you walk home by yourself after dark. 

Every now and then in high school, he would walk you to and from class, and to your front doorstep after school. You would chat incessantly in the meantime, squeezing as much conversation between classes as possible. 

Everyone knew you were best friends. To see you two in the halls together, it was merely just another day. On more than one occasion, your teachers would ask you where he was on the days that you came to class alone. 

You heard your name being called and reeled out of your musing. 

“Sorry. I spaced out,” you said, flushing. “What did you say?” 

“I said - would it be weird if I walked you to your room?” 

“Of course not,” you replied, swallowing once more. You wanted to chide yourself for your lack of self-control. When it came to Taeyong, you just couldn’t say no. 

Taeyong smiled. He let you inside the elevator and moved his hand out of the way so that it would finally close. You punched in your floor number and let the elevator lift you there.

He slipped his hands into his pockets. “How’s Neon?” 

Neon was your pet cat. She was an adorable fat gray cat with vibrantly orange eyes. And the love of your life. After Taeyong, of course. “She’s living the life. Eating a lot, as usual. Ten’s friend Yangyang is cat-sitting her as well as Leon and Louis.”

Taeyong snickered. “Oh boy. He’s in for one hell of a ride.” 

“You bet,” you chortled. “I’m expecting a call demanding we pick them up early any moment now. You know how those three get when they’re together.” 

The elevator chimed and opened and Taeyong let you out. “Ladies first,” he said with a smile, all gentleman-like. “And I’m assuming they’re chaotic as ever.”

“You assume correctly,” you replied, wishing you had your phone. “Yangyang’s totally chill, though. He takes their tomfoolery in stride and even sends us pictures. They toppled over a Cheerios box and somehow Neon wore it on her head.”

“I just got a mental picture of that and it’s absolutely hilarious.” 

You laughed. 

Now you were thinking about who Taeyong saw when he came home. You already knew the answer, but you still asked, “I know you’ve been taking care of your grandmother, but have you not been seeing anyone since you left?” 

“Nope. I never had the time or energy to invest.” 

“But you have it now.” 

“I guess I do,” Taeyong replied with a shrug. “But it won’t change much. It’s too late.” 

Your brows furrowed. “What do you mean, it’s too late?”

Rosé had told you that love had no expiration date. Now Taeyong had said he was too late. Did Taeyong love someone? 

Your heart was shedding tears of blood. 

Taeyong offered you a harmless smile but didn’t elaborate very much. You had already arrived at your hotel room. “I’ll tell you someday. I promise,” he swore. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Taeyong.” 

Taeyong did a one-eighty and began to walk in the direction he had come. Your eyes followed him, stinging. It always hurt to watch him leave. 

It hurt him to walk away. Little did you know, he had spent every day thinking about you. What could have been. When the news broke out about your relationship with Jaehyun shortly after his departure, Taeyong wanted to be happy for you, but nothing but pain and regret and longing plagued his chest. 

The worst part was that he had nobody to blame but himself. He dithered too long and let another man take his place. It was unfair for him to expect you to sit around and stay. Even when he was by your side, you were still waiting for him to decide when he would be ready to let somebody inside his heart again. 

Coward, Taeyong scolded himself. He wanted to love you, but he was too scared and too selfish. Every time, he chose himself over you. And now that you had chosen someone else over him too, he would have to live with that. 

You both would. 

You took a shower and crawled into bed. Jaehyun was beside you when you woke in the afternoon, sleeping like a rock. You took a picture for the group chat and had a good laugh while you still could, knowing he would inevitably seek vengeance. At least somebody was going to milk the absolute hell out of this vacation. 

you: good morning

haechan: it’s 2pm

you: not for this guy

you: [one attachment]

ten: oh you are so, so wrong 

jennie: sleeping beauty? 

johnny: that’s the beast 

mark: lmfaoooo 

lisa laughed at “that’s the beast”

rosé: wipe the corners of his mouth plz 

taeyong: he’s gonna be so mad when he sees this 

you: teehee

you: beach day?

“Sleep with one eye open,” Jaehyun warned lightheartedly when you both arrived back at the beach. 

You giggled. No matter what age, you and your friends would always love a great prank. The war was officially on. 

Looking around for the others, your eyes fell on Taeyong. And Lord have mercy, he was mouthwatering. Had he found the time to work out? Light sheened his sun-kissed skin, dancing on his abs and shoulders. It was no wonder why you started sleeping with this man. 

You saw another woman approach him and immediately frowned. As expected, it was no other than Jennie. Let there be no misunderstanding, neither of you had any bad blood or ill feeling. You simply had a lot of common interests.

And the greatest common denominator was Taeyong. 

Your heart sprained in your chest viciously, taut with envy. A girl as beautiful as Jennie got everything and everyone she ever wanted. She always did. Except for Taeyong. But maybe now he would fall for her charms. 

His words rang in your head. It’s too late. You didn’t know what he meant by that and it was killing you. 

Taeyong glanced in your direction and your gaze instantly shifted elsewhere. You could not do this for another six days. 

Time passed in a blur. You had fun and pushed him into the back of your head. Mark, Haechan and Johnny decided it would be fun to spray you and Jaehyun with water guns, which culminated in one huge water gun battle. 

By the end of it, you were drenched. You draped yourself in a towel whilst the gang slowly disintegrated until only you and Taeyong remained. 

Dammit, you hissed when you noticed him approaching you. Where the hell did everybody go? 

From the staid look on his face, you had a feeling you would not be fond of whatever he was preparing to say. “We need to talk,” Taeyong said, humorless and stony-faced. 

Your eyes flickered. “Now?”

“How much longer do you want to pretend that everything is peachy between us?” Taeyong asked you unsparingly. Which made you flinch. You weren’t used to him being so stern. “I keep seeing you look at me, and I know you see me looking at you. Why are we holding back?”

Because all I know how to do is pretend, you thought somberly. But even you got tired of playing make-believe. 

Taeyong softened and asked, “Walk the shore with me?”

Finding no protest, you agreed. There was a chance this would abate your misery. Or intensify it. There was no in between. 

You abandoned your towel at one of the beach chairs and began to walk side by side with Taeyong. For a while, it was quiet. The silence only pervaded your chest with dread. 

Little did you know, Taeyong was at war with himself. His heart was on one side, but his mind was on the other, and he teetered between them both with every passing second. He opened his mouth to ask, “Do you remember what happened before I left?” 

It was impossible to forget. Before he left, before he got the call. You broke things off, explaining that you didn’t want to sleep with him anymore. Taeyong panicked. He wondered what he had done wrong. But it wasn’t his fault - it was yours.

You winced your eyes shut. Everything was too deep, too intimate, and you didn’t know how to handle yourself. Every time you were with him, you were on the verge of doing or saying something you would regret. 

Things became a little strained, and for the first time, awkward. You had no time to fix it before he was taking the next flight to Seoul. 

You eventually got over it by simply never addressing what went wrong. But there was a sneaking question still gnawing at his heart. 

You heaved a sigh. “We already resolved this, Taeyong.”

“No, we didn’t. We ignored the problem. As usual,” Taeyong corrected. You bit your lip, but didn’t argue. No argument could be made. “You never told me why.” 

“It wasn’t your fault.” 

“I know that,” Taeyong replied, brusque. “But that’s not an answer.”

You fought a nervous laugh. How were you supposed to explain that the reason you stopped sleeping with him was because it made you fall for him even more? 

Taeyong pressed, “Was it because you had feelings for Jaehyun?”

You blinked. He was so hot but so cold all at once.

It would have been the easier answer. You could have lied and easily gave him all the closure he needed then and there. “No,” you said instead, honest. “I had no romantic interest in him at the time.” 

That allowed Taeyong to breathe easier, but he was still adamant. “Then, why?” 

Your pulse quickened. You felt like you were being put on the spot. Every gear in your brain grinded against asphalt to a complete halt. 

You contemplated straying from the truth, but you had lived a lie long enough. Taeyong would surely be able to sense you were bluffing. “Because I wanted more,” you whispered, your voice barely above the rushing shore. “And I knew that you didn’t.”

Taeyong stopped dead in his tracks, footsteps coming to an end as he riveted in place. He spluttered, “What?” 

“I can’t do this,” you said, shaking your head. It was your turn to be a coward and run. 

Taeyong called after you and began to pursue you, but you had an advantage. You were barefooted. It was not easy to run in the sand while wearing flip-flops. 

You hid somewhere along the shore, sinking your feet into the water. Tears stung your eyes, the only reason you noticed they were trickling warmly down your cheeks. How could you love someone that didn’t love you so intensely? 

It wasn’t fair. Your heart was ripped to tatters and yet he had no idea of your pain. Three years and the wound was still fresh, dampened by your salty tears. It stung like nothing else. 

You remembered how it felt to be underneath Taeyong. How hard it was to look into his eyes. Nevertheless, he would demand you made eye contact with him. And you would obey, because when you were aroused, Taeyong owned every piece of you.

You feared how much control he had over you in that state. Not only your body, but your mind. You knew that whatever you said or did under his spell and in his trance went beyond conscious control but couldn’t be taken back. And whenever Taeyong strung you to climax, you wanted to profess your love for him at the very top of your lungs. 

A noise sounded from behind you, and you whirled around to be met face to face with Taeyong. “I followed your footsteps,” he explained. You nodded with a sigh and turned back around. Taeyong slipped beside you and asked, “Why are you crying?” 

“I’m not.”

Taeyong fought a roll of his eyes and wiped your cheeks with his thumb. “Tell me what’s wrong,” he whispered, tender. “So I can make it better.”

“You can’t make it better,” you whimpered, shutting your eyes. It’s too late. You almost said those words, but you caught yourself when you remembered where you’d heard them before. 

Taeyong studied you. His eyes were warm, gentle. Why was he looking at you like that? Like you had spawned the earth with your bare hands. 

“Do you…,” Taeyong hesitated, turning melancholy. “Do you still want me?” 

“Taeyong…” 

He coaxed, “Tell me the truth.” 

“What if I do?” you snapped. “What if it’s my boyfriend’s friend that I’ve wanted this entire time? Then what?” 

Taeyong enveloped your lips in a kiss and your fears promptly vanished. For a moment, you were stunned, but you kissed him back because your body had already been so accustomed to the way his lips felt on yours. 

You melted into his touch. It was definitely wrong, but it felt right. Every rational thought subsided with your fear and you subconsciously strung your fingers through his hair, running on instinct. Memories worked against you. You recalled all those times you made out with your best friend, under the sun or in the moonlight or in the comfort of his bedroom. 

Tasting him on your tongue, you remember exactly how much you liked kissing Taeyong. He always kissed you like there was no tomorrow, holding you tight and sucking harshly on your tongue. 

Taeyong pulled away, rasping, and said, “I just kissed my friend’s girlfriend. I guess we’re both in hot water.”

Your heart exploded with a million emotions. For the love of Christ, he had just kissed you in public. Fortunately, there was nobody around when you looked. He was so stupid, but you loved his stupid little face. 

“You’re crazy,” you replied, stepping away to put some distance between you both. 

Taeyong snickered. “I owe it all to you.”

Fuck. What were you doing? You were a taken woman. As much as you wanted to, you didn’t feel very guilty. 

You felt aroused. 

It was impossible to kiss Taeyong and not become aroused all at once. For him, it was like second nature to turn you on. A nibble here and a growl there and you were sold.

Frightened by your own lack of self-restraint, you ran again. You didn’t know what all would happen if you stayed and you didn’t want to find out, either. 

Instead of chasing you again, Taeyong watched you and chuckled because he knew why you were running this time, and you were a mess. What was he thinking - kissing you? He was out of his goddamn mind, but he was out of his goddamn mind in love with you. 

You rushed into your hotel room and didn’t breathe until your back was squarely against the door. It was safe to say that you were positively doomed. 

Traces of Jaehyun remained scattered around the room, but he was nowhere to be found. You remembered that he mentioned he would be having lunch with Johnny and Rosé. 

That only allowed for more time for you to think about Taeyong. Your body burned with arousal. You were content to feel him simply because it was him, but it helped that he was good at what he did. His touch lingered on your body and you savored the taste of his tongue on yours, craving it all over again. 

But you snapped out of your trance and halted. You had been so caught up in the pleasure of Taeyong kissing you that you hardly realized the weight of that action. Did that mean Taeyong wanted you, too? 

And for your heart, or for your body?

Meanwhile Taeyong was still standing by the ocean, thoughts of you plaguing his mind. He wanted to kiss you again so badly. He wished you would break up with Jaehyun and realize you were meant for him. 

He wasn’t scared anymore. He wasn’t the boy that ran away. It took him some time, but he knew now that he wanted you more than anything. And he was ready to risk it all to get you. 

You spent the rest of the day crammed in your room, afraid you would run into Taeyong and do something stupid. Jaehyun came back eventually and fell asleep beside you. You had officially survived two of seven days, though barely. Tomorrow might have been your breaking point. 

A little after two in the morning, you woke to use the bathroom. When you came back, you noticed your phone screen lit with a text message. 

From Taeyong. It read, You up? 

You hesitated, but ultimately typed back a response. Barely. What’s up? 

The typing bubble popped up at the bottom of the screen and you watched and waited for him to type a response. Meet me in the lobby in 10?

That was dangerous. You glanced up from your phone, looking at your boyfriend. Jaehyun was dead asleep. For certain he could sleep through a natural disaster.

Give me 5, you replied. Temptation got the best of you. 

Bet. 

You washed your face, slipped on your shoes, then crept out the door, careful not to wake Jaehyun. You made a beeline for the elevator. 

Waiting for you in the lobby stood no other than the love of your life. Literally. For as long as you could remember, you loved Taeyong. 

You saw his face before you even saw his face. Those images had been bouncing around in your brain for the entire day, asserting dominance and assuring you that they were there to stay. You were perpetually doomed. 

You raised your brow when you saw him, a ball of energy. Much unlike you, but seeing him gave you your second wind. “You do realize that it’s two in the morning, right?” 

“Jet lag,” Taeyong explained, amused. “Miami is fourteen hours behind Seoul.”

Like you weren’t convinced, you added, “Mm-hm. And running around in the sun didn’t exhaust you for a day?”

Taeyong lifted his arms in surrender. “You caught me,” he said, before briefly changing the subject. He couldn’t sleep because every time he closed his eyes, he saw you. Thoughts of you kept him up at night more often than not. “Wanna go somewhere special?” 

“Like what?” you asked curiously. Come to think of it, you had hardly left the hotel since you arrived. 

Taeyong said nothing, merely smirking with mischief and leading you to the parking lot with your fingers between his. 

Oh, god. Taeyong was nothing if not trouble. 

A brief car ride consisting of both of you singing horribly and off-key to whatever song blared on the radio brought you to a very familiar place. One you hadn’t been to since the beginning of college. 

Taeyong opened the door for you and led you to a chained fence. Obviously, you could not go through it. Meaning you would have to climb over it.

“Ladies first,” Taeyong insisted, wanting to be on this side in case you needed help climbing over. 

“This is literally trespassing.”

Taeyong countered smartly, “It’s not trespassing unless you get caught.”

“If I go to jail…,” you hissed. 

Taeyong didn’t flinch. “Relax. Don’t you see this pretty face? I’ve talked a lady out of giving me a speeding ticket before.”

“Aren’t you Prince Charming,” you sneered, but moved towards the fence to clamber above. You had done it a million times before. Granted, you were a reckless teenager at the time, but memory was all the skill you needed. 

“Watch your step!” Taeyong called out. 

You called back, “I know what I’m doing, Taeyong.” 

Taeyong snickered. It took everything for you to concentrate on anything that wasn’t the sound of his laughter so that you wouldn’t trip and get a concussion. 

The moment you were safely on the other end, Taeyong followed after you, skillfully climbing over the fence like he had done a number of times in the distant past. 

“I still got it,” he said unabashedly once he was beside you again. 

“You’re a grown adult man.”

Taeyong argued, “I’m a boy wonder.”

You shook your head. Sometimes you couldn’t believe that this was the man you loved with your whole mind, heart and soul. 

Soon enough, you were at the edge of a building, sitting comfortably on the rooftop and watching the city buzz with life even at the late hour. Miami never slept. Many things changed, but that fact wasn’t one of them. 

A shroud of darkness swept over the town, combated by glimmering lights in sky-scraping structures. Cars honked faintly in the distance, a sign of life. You smiled at the familiarity. Once upon a time, you and Taeyong would sneak off to this exact place, a safe haven from your crazy lives. 

Though you found that any place you were together was a refuge. As long as you had each other, you were safe. 

“Taeyong,” you called, cutting through the silence. 

“Hm?” 

“Why did you kiss me?” 

Your voice dripped with emotion. He met your eyes, and they were sad. You had been asking yourself that question the entire day, but to no avail. 

“Because…” Taeyong hesitated. “Because I’ve been waiting to kiss you again for the past three years.” 

Your eyes flickered. You had no idea he felt that way, and you were in a bit of denial. How could he go from being scared shitless of the thought of love to being in love with you? 

There was a tug at your heart, but you tried your best to ignore it. You decided to put him to the test. “Do you want back what we had?” 

“No,” Taeyong replied, honest. His eyes were big and doe-like. “You were wrong earlier. I did want more. I still do.” 

You swallowed harshly. He wanted more this whole time, but had been running away from you. Like you were armed and dangerous. Little did he know, his warmth and tenderness disarmed you completely. You were weak and defenseless. “I don’t want to be just sex to you,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. 

But Taeyong heard you, lurching and asking, “Is that what you thought you were?”

“What else was I supposed to think?” you asked, shrugging and blinking away tears. You weren’t strong enough for this. That was why you had derailed this conversation for so long. You knew full well it would break you. 

Taeyong was full of regret. “Would you believe me if I said I’ve wanted you my whole life?” 

You blinked. Your heart felt so heavy in your chest. All these years of longing for Taeyong’s heart, only to find that you already had it. It was too much. 

“I was just too scared. The wound was still fresh. I was in a dark place and somehow convinced myself that the whole world was against me. If I let you in, you had my heart at your disposal, and that was too much for me. The last time I let someone that close, they broke me.” 

“I would never do that to you, Taeyong,” you whispered sincerely, reaching for his hand. “You have to trust me. Your heart is precious to me.” 

“I just wish I would have known that before,” Taeyong blew out a sigh, wistful. “It took me almost losing my grandmother to realize that before anything else, I’m afraid of lost. I didn’t want to lose you. But then you got with Jaehyun…”

You finished, “And you felt like you’d already lost me.”

Taeyong nodded. “I was too late. That was what I meant the other day. I thought your heart already belonged to somebody else and I started to think that maybe I never really had a chance.”

The past three years had been hard on Taeyong. He tried to make sense of his life, to pull together any explanation so that he could better rationalize it, even if it wasn’t true. 

He was overwhelmed. All of these emotions were resurfacing, banding together against him and slapping him across the face. It felt like being jolted awake by a bucket of cold water. Nostalgia ran its course with him, but so did regret. And the pining and love for you that made his chest swell hotly. He was angry with himself. For being such a big baby, for not noticing that you had wanted him, too. 

“Taeyong…” you called out.

Taeyong shook his head and stood to his feet, pacing around the rooftop. “This is all my fault. If I would have never been such a coward, if I would have just told you how I felt from the beginning, none of this would have happened. You wouldn’t have tried to fill the void with Jaehyun.”

“You can’t keep blaming yourself for this,” you said gently, following him. “I made that decision. I didn’t know how to cope without you and so I did something really, really stupid.”

“But you wouldn’t have made it if it wasn’t for me,” Taeyong said, too out of it and too in his head. He was crumbling before your eyes. Torn asunder and ruptured beyond reclaim.

Frustrated, you ran a hand through your hair and called his name again. “You don’t know that. I ended our friends with benefits relationship, remember? I would have done anything to distract myself from my feelings for you.” 

To no avail. Taeyong wanted to crawl back inside his shell and hide. This world was too big and he felt as if he had no place in it. Not for any good reason, at least. 

What good was he? He broke your heart, because he was too scared of you breaking his. 

And you wound up breaking each other. 

As a last resort, you leaned on your toes and pressed your lips to his. Just like that, he was at ease again. You yelped when Taeyong hauled you into his arms and pressed you against the nearest wall, kissing you fiercely as if you’d stirred up a monster inside him. It was wide awake and ready to raise hell. 

For a moment, you both forgot about the rest of the world. You forgot about Jaehyun. He forgot that you weren’t his. It was just the two of you, two true lovers making out beneath the moonlight, making up for the time you’d lost when you could have been together. 

Nothing else mattered. You were content to simply be in each other’s arms. 

Taeyong dug you into the wall harder, resting all of his weight on you. It felt like the wind was knocked out of you, but you could hardly breathe before then. Taeyong took your breath away and left you begging for more. 

You moaned into his mouth, pleased as you threaded your fingers through his hair. Taeyong was bent on making a mess of you, reducing you to nothing but love and lust. Warmth coursed through your bodies, scorching hot flares of heat and energy. 

You pulled away first this time, eager to catch your breath. And Taeyong simply stared at you like he had never seen anything or anyone more beautiful, sated. 

“None of this is your fault, Taeyong,” you reassured him, your voice breathy for obvious reasons. “We’ll figure something out.” 

Now, Taeyong was convinced. As long as you had him and he had you, everything would work out. Love would always find a way. 

Taeyong already knew the answer, but he needed to hear you say it. Like it would quell all his worries once and for all. “Do you love him?” 

“I love Jay,” you replied solemnly. “But I’m in love with you.”

That was all Taeyong needed to hear before he was sweeping you into his arms again, smashing his lips to yours. 

You continued to make noises, little groans and growls on his end and a plethora of tiny smothered moans on yours. And god, were they hot as hell. They brought back memories of when you two would fuck until you had depleted every last bit of your stamina. 

It got to the point where Taeyong had to pull away from you, half-hard and afraid of getting too turned on. When you two were together - and alone - it was very, very dangerous. 

“Mm, we can’t,” Taeyong hummed, calling time-out. “I’m definitely a piece of shit, but I’m not that much of a piece of shit.”

You sighed. He was right. This was going too far too fast. You needed to breathe and slow down. 

Easier said than done. You obviously couldn’t control yourself around each other. 

“Let’s regroup tomorrow,” you suggested. “Today technically, but you know what I mean.” 

Taeyong snickered. “Yeah. I know what you mean.” 

The two of you ditched the rooftop and climbed back over the fence, though in no particular rush to get back to his car. You wanted to stay. You wanted to spend every moment of your life with Taeyong, but things were, needless to say, complicated. Life simply didn’t work in your favor. 

Much to your dismay, Jaehyun was wide awake when you came back to your joint room. You felt like a deer caught in headlights when you met his perturbed eyes. 

“Where have you been?” Jaehyun asked. There was no hostility in his voice; only consternation. 

You felt no need to lie. Jaehyun may have been your boyfriend, but he was also your friend. No matter what it came down to, you would never betray his trust by lying to his face. “I was with Taeyong.” 

Jaehyun cocked a brow. “At four in the morning?” 

You blinked. You hadn’t realized that it had been that long. 

Jaehyun added, “You didn’t pick up your phone. I was worried.”

“I haven't checked it. I’m sorry for worrying you,” you said, approaching him and wrapping your arms around his neck. He was sitting at the edge of the bed. “I didn’t want to wake you. You looked so peaceful.”

“It’s okay,” Jaehyun murmured, voice half-muffled into the crook of your neck. “Just don’t do it again.”

You chuckled, but for the first time, you felt ashamed. Jaehyun didn’t deserve you. He deserved better. A tear nearly slipped down your cheek, but you fought it back with everything you had. You had no right to cry. 

Never did you want to love Taeyong. Love was not a choice. If you could have taken your heart back from his clutches, you would have. But your heart was under tyranny. Love was too powerful. Every beat was for him and him alone. 

Anger presented itself as spasms of heat in your chest, completely directed at yourself. Why couldn’t you love Jaehyun? That would have made everything a hell of a lot easier. He had never wronged you as your friend or as your boyfriend. He took you on romantic dates and he sang to you to cheer you up after a long day and he was always there to show you love. 

Jaehyun is a great guy, you thought. But he’s not the guy for me. 

You knew what you needed to do. Jaehyun might have resented you for ruining what was seemingly a perfectly healthy and happy relationship, especially with no warning, but you couldn’t keep his heart chained away any longer. Somewhere in this world, you knew there was a girl for him that could love him in all the ways you couldn’t. 

As you drifted back to sleep that night, there was a weight on your chest. Before this trip was over, you needed to find the strength to break Jaehyun’s heart. 

Little did you know, Jaehyun sat thoughtfully awake as you slept beside him, already aware that this relationship was bound to end for some time. 

The third day was eventful and a breath of fresh air. You had girl time with the ladies and left the guys to fend for themselves. 

You pressed a kiss to the corner of Jaehyun’s lips then looked amongst the string of guys beside him and said, “Be good. Don’t blow anything up.” 

The guys laughed. Most of them. 

Ten winked and said, “No promises.” He, Mark, Haechan, and Johnny looked full of mischief. 

When your eyes met Taeyong’s, he was watching you. You stepped away from Jaehyun and cleared your throat. 

“Have a good time,” Jaehyun told you.

You forced a smile. “You, too.”

It was a relief when you managed to escape. For the entire day, you were for once able to shake the thoughts of Taeyong and the rack and ruin of your relationship with Jaehyun. 

A spa day with the girls was exactly what you needed to palliate your sadness. And a fun couple of hours of spending way too much money at the shopping center. You wore a constant smile on your face. It reminded you of old times. It would be a while before all of you could gather together like this again, and you wanted to make every minute count. 

No boy business. Although, you were very intrigued about their love lives. Grown women had crushes, too. 

Eventually, you all went for dinner and drinks at a nice pub, laughing over a meal and reminiscing fondly. 

“I need to slow down,” you said, shaking your head once you caught notice of how many drinks you’d chugged. 

Lisa snickered. “Yeah, you do. Just in case you accidentally trip into a chocolate fountain again.”

Rosé and Jennie laughed. 

You rolled your eyes. “I was nineteen and blackout drunk. Give me some credit.” 

You were the laughing stock of the group, but only for a couple of days, because everyone moved on when Mark did something three times more funny and embarrassing. That was how the cycle went in your group. 

That night wasn’t all that bad. Taeyong had a laugh at your expense for sure, but he helped you clean yourself up. And when he thought nobody was looking, kissed some of the chocolate off of the corner of your lips. 

Don’t you dare go there. You aren’t supposed to be thinking about Taeyong, you scolded yourself. 

“Remember that time we caught you and Taeyong practically fucking in the pool?” Rosé asked, heavily amused by the memory. 

You flushed. And wanted to sink into the ground. Ever since you started hooking up, it had been hard for you and Taeyong to keep it in your pants around each other. Especially when alcohol was involved. 

Lisa grimaced in disgust. “Ugh. I wanted to gouge my eyes out.”

“And they had the audacity to think nobody knew they were hooking up,” Jennie said, shaking your head. “Speaking of which - how was it?” 

“I have a boyfriend. I am not going to think about another man’s penis,” you retorted, but it was too late for you. You were thinking about another man’s penis. And god, Taeyong always felt nice and snug inside you. 

Not to mention, he was skilled with more than just his dick. The amount of times he had made you cum with his mouth or on his fingers was ungodly. 

Jennie begged, “Please? I’ve wanted to jump his bones my whole life.”

Lisa laughed in surprise. “Jesus.”

“Fine,” you grumbled, displeased. “He’s good. To say the least.”

Jennie was unimpressed. “Well, duh. You kept coming back to him for some reason.” 

The girls chortled.

She continued, “How big is it? Does it have a little curve? Does it lean or does it hang? Is it trimmed?” 

You waved your hand for a waiter. “Check, please!” 

Way too drunk, the four of you called an Uber. On the way home, Lisa started talking about a girl she’d met at the beach that was totally trying to get in her pants. Lisa, ever a tease, was delaying the inevitable. 

You all laughed and prayed for that poor girl. She was in for a ride. Though Lisa definitely wanted her back, that much was clear. Otherwise she would have never spared her a second of time.

Jaehyun was in the room when you got there, evidently no less drunk than you. And when Jaehyun was drunk, he got touchy. He pulled you into his lap, and you wondered exactly what all those six had done. Jaehyun very rarely made moves on you. 

To be frank, you never minded having sex with Jaehyun. It was unforced. You saw him as everything Taeyong should have been to you, but wasn’t. For some reason, things never worked that way. Your feelings and sex were too completely different aspects, but this and your relationship with Taeyong could never have that in common. 

Exhausted, you decided not to have sex with him and he didn’t push, but you instead foolishly opened a bottle of wine he’d brought along and chatted incessantly, recounting the days events. 

Your heart was sad. When you broke up with him - and you would - you hoped it wouldn’t tarnish the beautiful friendship you had. 

It was late when you both finally decided to call it a night. A couple of unread messages sat untouched on your phone screen, but you noticed Taeyong’s first. From two hours ago. 

I miss you. 

Your heart fluttered. Taeyong was thinking about you. 

Guilt made its way into your chest. You felt bad for responding so late. Aside from your little rooftop encounter, you had barely spoken to Taeyong at all today. 

Sorry. I’m with Jay. He wants to spend the night with me, you replied. That was very true. Jaehyun had no intention of leaving this room until tomorrow and he didn’t want to be alone. It was a bonus that he enjoyed your company.

The ‘delivered’ noticon changed to ‘read’ almost instantly, like Taeyong had been waiting by his phone. It’s fine. See you tomorrow. 

You frowned. You could feel his pain through the phone. It wasn’t your intention to blow him off, but your hands were tied. And every time you were with Taeyong, you felt more and more ashamed of yourself. 

Not to mention, you were drunk out of your mind. You didn’t trust yourself to be around Taeyong, but you especially didn’t trust your intoxicated self. 

Goodnight, Taeyong. 

Taeyong flopped backwards on his bed and sighed. All he wanted was you, but you weren’t his. And a part of him feared that you never would be. 

Jaehyun hadn’t been subtle earlier this evening. He left with every intention of getting some, a testament to his insobriety. Taeyong wondered if he was touching you in all the places he once did, if you’d given Jaehyun your body like you had given it to him. 

He couldn’t stomach it. The thought of you below another man, calling Jaehyun’s name. Fuck, could he even please you the way Taeyong could? Did he know your body the way Taeyong did? 

Maybe he truly was replaceable. You made him doubt whether he had ever been good enough for you. What if you decided last-minute that you didn’t want him - that you didn’t love him? 

I’m in love with you. That was what you said, but did you mean it? Did you really love him?

A girl had lied to him in the past. He was backstabbed and betrayed. But you weren’t her and she wasn’t you. Taeyong had faith that something more could blossom between the two of you, beyond the skin of friendship. 

Taeyong tossed and turned and struggled to fall asleep, staving off his demons. Meanwhile, you were in Jaehyun’s arms, safe and sound. 

Taeyong saw you the next day and the day after that, but you barely spoke. A word was exchanged here and there, but you made no move to engage in conversation with him and he found it difficult to steal you away. 

His fear was unabating. Had he said something wrong? A day or two ago, you had been seemingly fine. And now it felt more like you were avoiding him. 

To make matters worse, he was forced to watch you smile and laugh with Jaehyun. The two of you obviously hadn’t broken up yet. He thought you would have before the trip was over, and there were merely two days left. 

A bitter feeling scorched in Taeyong’s chest. 

Meanwhile, beneath the facade of a radiant girl in a happy relationship, you were shattering. Time was running out. It felt like the walls were slowly but steadily closing in on you. 

You knew you needed to do something, but you had no strength. You were terrified of how Jaehyun would respond. Would he be understanding? Would he resent you for breaking his heart on such short notice and getting with Taeyong even sooner? 

Guilt was crippling. You hadn’t felt it before, but it was merciless to you now. Everything was so heat of the moment with Taeyong and a test of your self-control. 

A knock from the door made both you and Jaehyun pause your conversation. No one announced themselves, thus you figured it wasn’t the hotel staff. And it was well past midnight. 

Jaehyun went to open the door and you followed suit. And your heart promptly sank when you realized who was there. 

“Hey,” Taeyong said stiffly, hands in his pockets. He nodded his head in your direction. “I know it’s late, but can I talk to you?” 

“Yeah. Sure,” you replied, sliding on your shoes. You were not eager, but you needed to get him away from Jaehyun. Your heart was being rapidly in your chest, twisting with fear. 

Taeyong knew it was a foolish idea to show up unannounced, in the middle of the night no less, but his restraint had depleted. He was worn and battered. And he needed his best friend. 

You gave Jaehyun a reassuring smile and said, “I’ll  be back, babe. Don’t wait up.”

Jaehyun was unperturbed and gave you a little nod, smiling back. “Keep her safe,” he told Taeyong. 

Your fragile heart broke. Why did love have to be so complicated? 

As soon as Jaehyun was out of earshot, you whispered to Taeyong, “Are you out of your goddamn mind?” 

“Yes,” was Taeyong’s wry response.

His lack of somberness made you bristle. “We have to be subtle. You looked mighty suspicious popping up after midnight. Jaehyun is…” 

Taeyong interjected bleakly, all of the humor in his tone absent, “You haven’t told him yet.”

You stepped inside his hotel room and blinked. “No. I haven’t.” 

Taeyong shut the door behind himself then flopped on his bed with a sigh, patting the spot next to him. You were reluctant, but ultimately took a seat. A storm of emotion raised hell inside your chest. How could he have been so close to you, but so far away?

You looked into his eyes and knew something - if not everything - was wrong. Taeyong wore his heart on his sleeve. He was sensitive and tender. His vulnerability was a blessing and a curse, something he'd come to hate and you'd come to adore. 

“Tell me what’s wrong,” you sang, rubbing his arm. “I can’t read your mind, Taeyong. You have to let me in.” 

Taeyong decided to be frank. “Have you been avoiding me?”

Your eyes flickered, and you responded by instinct, “I was trying to balance my time. I didn’t want him to become suspicious.”

“That called for a ‘yes’ or a ‘no.’” 

You heaved a breath. “Yes, I have been avoiding you.”

Taeyong said nothing. As much as it pained him, he understood. He knew what it was like to be in a relationship with someone, but long for somebody else. 

Though that never eased the sting of betrayal. It wounded him like nothing else. It was a scar he would carry for the rest of his life. 

“I want you,” Taeyong whispered. Even in the dark room, you could see how his eyes glimmered with sadness. “Every moment I’m away from you, I only want you even more.”

You exhaled, “Taeyong…”

“I’m not finished,” Taeyong said brusquely. “Even when I was with her, I was thinking about you. I was thinking, ‘is this really how love is supposed to be?’ And I wondered if it would be different with you.”

You just listened to the sound of your heart swelling with every passing word. 

“I think part of me knew it would be. Because you had already loved me better without being in a relationship with me.”

“I…,” you searched tirelessly for words, but came short of them. “I don’t know what to say.”

Taeyong was swift. “Say you love me.”

“I love you,” you told him sincerely. You lied next to him and made him look you in the eyes. “You know, I tried to move on. That’s why I got with Jaehyun. I thought that with you on the other side of the world, and another man on my hands, I would forget how it felt to love you. But I never did.”

Taeyong leaned in to kiss you, and as much as you wanted to, you couldn’t let him. You jerked away and stood to your feet. 

You shook your head, tears threatening to break through the dam. “I can’t do this.”

Taeyong rose after you. “Why can’t you?”

“Because I’m not yours!” you whisper-yelled, trying to be mindful of his most likely resting neighbors. “And you’re not mine!”

“Just let him down gently,” Taeyong sighed. 

You bristled. “Do you really think it’s that easy?” 

“If you love me, then yes.”

That shredded your heart and filled you with ire altogether, but because you didn’t want to fight, you turned around and chose flight. 

Taeyong - hot on your heels - chose to fight. He wanted to fight for you and everything you had together. He incredulously trailed behind you, wanting to put the pieces together again instead of leaving them damaged and broken. 

“Where are you going?” he called from behind you, speeding up his pace to match yours. 

You continued to stomp away lividly, not turning sparing him a glance. “Away from you,” you replied coldly. 

“No, you're not,” Taeyong growled, grabbing your arm and forcing you to look at him. He was fuming, eyes narrowed and his aura the most vicious you'd ever seen. “You can’t run away. You can’t hide from me.”

That was rich. You chuckled sourly. “Oh, but you can?” 

“No,” Taeyong snapped harshly. His grip on your arm was firm, but cautious. “Neither of us. If this is going to work, if we’re going to be together, then we need to learn how to face confrontation.”

Breaking loose from his grasp, you shouted, “I wish I didn’t love you!”

Taeyong riveted in place. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do,” you said ruthlessly, trying to prevent your voice from cracking. “Do you think I’ve been miserable for the past three years out of choice? If I could stop loving you, I fucking would!” 

“Baby, calm down,” Taeyong whispered, trying to placate you. His eyes scanned the area for onlookers, and though there weren’t many at this hour, there were quite a few. 

You didn’t listen, taking steps further away with every step he took closer to you. This was mentally - and emotionally - wearing you down. “Don’t you feel anything? Even a goddamn ounce of guilt?” 

“So then, break up!”

Shaking your head, you bitterly accepted that he would never understand. And you made a beeline for one of the doors on his floor, well aware of who was on the other side. 

You pounded on the door relentlessly. “Come on, come on,” you chanted to yourself. Any second now, Taeyong would catch up to you. You wished he would leave you alone. You wanted him to get out of your head. You hated that you needed him even though you didn’t want to. 

Rosé opened the door with a bemused expression on her face. 

You begged her, “Please, let me in and lock the door.” 

Rosé didn’t hesitate to sweep you inside, locking the door behind you. She glimpsed outside the blinds, trying to find what in the hell had you so distressed. “What the hell happened?” 

“You were right,” you said, collapsing in a mess on the floor. You were giving away, coming apart at the seams. “I loved Taeyong. I still do.”

Rosé was tempted to make a snarky remark about how she already knew, but she understood that wasn’t what you needed. She held her arms wide open for you to crawl into. 

You sobbed on her shoulder. You cried until you had no more tears left. Surprisingly, she never judged you. Your friend simply held you in her embrace and gave you a reassuring pat on the back, singing her consoles softly. 

You were so overwhelmed. You had no strength against your emotions. They got the best of and vanquished you. 

I hate Taeyong, you thought bitterly. No you don’t. You hate the way he makes you feel. You hate that you can’t undo everything you’ve said and done to each other. You hate that no matter what happens, you’ll always love him. 

It seemed so simple. If you broke up with Jaehyun, you could finally have the man of your dreams, but at what cost? Being the object of Jaehyun’s acrimony? Your peace of mind? 

No matter what option you choose, your heart was at stake. 

A little refreshed, you eventually pulled away from Rosé. Though she had no issue with being there for you, she was still curious. “Want to tell me what’s going on?”

You explained everything. How you fell in love with Taeyong a long, long time ago. How you gave away your heart in exchange for sex with him. How you tried to get over him by getting under Jaehyun. How none of it worked, and you came to discover Taeyong had feelings for you, too. 

These were secrets you'd kept buried under the surface for years now, and to your surprise, you felt relieved of the burden once they were all out there. 

“I’ve spent an eternity pretending. I’m exhausted, Rosie,” you confessed. 

Rosé bobbed her head understandingly. “What’s stopping you from breaking up with Jaehyun?” 

“I don’t want to keep his heart locked away anymore. He deserves someone better than me,” you began, staring at the floor. “I don’t want to hurt him. I don’t want to get with Taeyong and make Jaehyun feel like he never meant anything to me. But I guess I’m just delaying the inevitable.”

Rosé chuckled lightly. “You are. It’s selfish to wait when he could already be trying to move on and find the girl meant for him. And who knows - maybe he already knows this moment is coming sooner or later.” 

You blinked. “I guess that’s true.”

“You already told me yourself that you’re tired of pretending. Why pretend, then? What if he’s pretending as well? As long as you’re living a lie, you’ll never move on or know peace.”

You frowned. 

“Look. I understand why you’re doing this,” Rosé started, reaching for your hand. “But that doesn’t make it right or healthy. You have to set Jaehyun free.” 

Your eyes burned with tears again. “What if he hates me?”

“He won’t,” Rosé told you sternly, as if she knew it for a fact. “Jaehyun is your friend before anything. I think you’d have to slap his mother for him to hate you.”

You chuckled. Jaehyun was a Mama’s boy. 

“Do the right thing,” she told you. 

“I will,” you sighed. “But can I stay here for the night?”

Rosé nudged you. “Of course. But don’t avoid Taeyong for too long. You need to apologize for what you said.”

You nodded. Tomorrow you would make everything right. You owed it to everyone around you. 

Literally. You and Taeyong made quite the commotion earlier. It seemed that raising hell was one of your strengths. 

In the morning, you arranged a spot for you and Jaehyun to meet and gave him a call. Last night you texted him last-minute to notify him that you’d be spending the night with Rosé. 

It didn’t take a genius to put together what you had in mind, and you didn’t know whether that was a negative or positive thing. 

Waiting for Jaehyun made you dangerously antsy. You silently hoped the ocean would sweep you under and swallow you whole, never to be seen again. Last night had given you the final push to do what was necessary, but that made it no simpler a task. You were a bundle of nerves, sweat beading at your forehead. 

Thank God, you thought when you saw Jaehyun finally turning the corner. Any longer and you would faint. 

“Good morning,” Jaehyun greeted, casting you a curious look. 

“Good morning. Your favorite,” you said, handing him a cup of coffee made exactly the way he liked it. 

Jaehyun grabbed the cup graciously. “Thank you. You said there’s something you wanted to talk to me about?”

“Um, yeah,” you said, rubbing your neck. “You might want to sit down.”

Jaehyun looked and sounded completely indifferent when he said, “You’re breaking up with me.”

Your eyes flickered with surprise, but you stammered, “Yeah, I… I am. Listen, Jaehyun. You’re a great guy, but I’d be lying if I said my heart wasn’t in a different place.”

“I know.” 

“And I know this is sudden, but…,” you trailed off, processing what he had said. “You know?” 

It alarmed you that Jaehyun was completely chill. You half expected him to snap at any given moment. “You have always felt more like a friend to me than a girlfriend. I have known for some time that there was something missing in our relationship. It’s not hard to tell that we’re both thinking about different people when we make love to each other.”

Now you were completely confused. “Both?” 

Perfectly on cue, no other than Rosé waltzed up to you, smiling innocently. Your jaw nearly hit the floor as you put the pieces together. 

All of the signs had been there. In hindsight, given the amount of time the pair spent together, neither of them were exactly subtle. But you were too engrossed in your Taeyong fiasco to notice what was happening squarely under your nose. 

You scrambled for words. “You…”

Rosé smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, hon. Don’t be too mad. We did nothing you and Taeyong already haven’t.”

It ended up being you that needed to sit down. You shook your head, in disbelief. You weren’t hurt, but you were in shock. “How?” 

“Well, like I said, I already knew something was missing in our relationship. A couple years ago, I started talking to Rosé. We agreed not to let things get too serious until you and I broke up,” Jaehyun explained. 

No wonder Rosé had been trying to pry you off of Jaehyun and into Taeyong’s arms. She wanted him for herself. Everything she told you last night was because she already knew that Jaehyun had found another girl and was expecting your relationship to fall apart any moment now.

Love has no expiration date. Some people spend their whole lives hopelessly in love with the same person. Had she been talking about herself?

Figuring you had nothing to add, Jaehyun diplomatically added, “I don’t want this to put a dent in either of our friendships.”

You peered up at him, brow cocked. “Are you kidding? I shouldn’t be this happy that my boyfriend has been talking to my friend behind my back but I am. I was afraid you were going to despise me indefinitely.” 

“You aren’t exactly a saint either,” Rosé said lightheartedly. 

“I know,” you sighed, then turned back to Jaehyun. “I’m sorry.”

Jaehyun was unbothered and gave you a playful nudge. “Let’s call it even.” 

You smiled. With that burden out of the way, you could breathe a little easier. But your eyes grew wide as you remembered you had one more person you needed to talk to. 

“Do either of you know where Taeyong is?” 

“He’s where you would find any other crabby Cancer,” Rosé replied, totally amused. 

You bid Rosé and Jaehyun goodbye and made a beeline for the beach. 

Spotting Taeyong took no time at all. He stood at the shore with his feet smothered in the sand. His body faced the ocean, but you could recognize that back anywhere. Your fingernails had become very familiar with it as well. 

Abandoning your shoes by a beach chair, you began to chase after him, bare feet roaming hot sand. “Taeyong!” 

Taeyong knew the sound of your voice and warmth spread through his chest when he heard it. He turned around, met with the sight of you looking ready to pounce on him. 

“Walk the shore with me?” you asked, chest heaving for breath. 

His voice was small. “Sure.”

The two of you walked in deafening silence. You nervously wracked your brain, searching for the right words to say. They never came. Your mouth had so much to say last night and now you were running on empty. 

Deciding to go with the flow, you inhaled and exhaled. “I broke up with Jaehyun.”

Taeyong stiffened. “How did it go?” 

“Very amicably,” you replied, recalling the unbelievable scenario that had taken place merely moments ago. “Apparently, he and Rosé have been talking.”

Seeing as Taeyong had no comment, silence fell over you both again. 

“I owe you an apology,” you added a couple moments later. 

Taeyong folded his arms over his chest. “I’m waiting.”

Your breath got shaky. “I’m sorry for what I said last night. It was cruel and you didn’t deserve any of that. I love you, Taeyong. That’s all I want to do. And if there’s anything I can do to make it better, let me know.”

“Be mine.”

You slipped your finger through his. “I am yours. Every part of me. My heart beats for you, Taeyong.”

Taeyong couldn’t control himself for another second and leaned over to kiss you. You didn’t hesitate to kiss him back, in front of the whole world, where almost anyone and everyone could see you. Not that either of you seemed to care. You wanted the entire universe to know that you belonged to each other. 

Noting that you weren't trying to shy away, Taeyong kissed you even harder. You moaned into his mouth, a noise that drove him positively insane. 

Your now-boyfriend was high on the realization that he could now kiss you whenever he wanted, wherever he wanted. You were his, and he would make sure no one ever forgot. It caught you completely off guard when Taeyong attached his lips to your neck, and you sucked in a gasp, numb as his tongue warmed your weak spot. 

Taeyong smirked. He still remembered where it was. You used to go through hell and back to cover the marks he left on your neck and collarbone, though now you had nothing to hide. 

Before it got too far, you pulled away and said, “Mm, let’s not get banned from the resort. Can I come to your room tonight?”

Taeyong knew what that meant. “You know the way.”

For the rest of the day, you had an indestructible smile on your face. You had made out with Taeyong for all to see before noon, no less - and it was incredible. 

And when night fell, surely enough, you were at his door. 

Taeyong wasted no time in sweeping you inside, shutting the door and pressing your back into the surface. You gasped, and had a split second to react before he smashed his lips against yours. You combed your fingers through his hair, closing your eyes and letting love and lust aid you. 

Your body burned with want. Never had you needed anything so desperately. You wanted Taeyong and you wanted him now. 

“Fuck,” you moaned when Taeyong raked his teeth over your neck. “Fuck me.”

You both raced to the bed, shredding each other of your clothes messily. They were a mess in his room when you were finished, not even in a heap on the floor, but carelessly tossed and scattered across his room to never be seen again. The air was chill, but it was a perfect contrast to your bodies, scorching with arousal. 

Wanting to see your face while he was inside you, Taeyong made you lay on your back before he fucked you. 

Taeyong cursed himself when he realized he had no condoms. Needless to say, he wasn’t expecting at all to fuck his best friend turned girlfriend. 

“You don’t need a condom, baby. Just fuck me,” you purred, spreading your legs as if to entice him further. 

Your boyfriend was half a second away from becoming a ferocious animal. The mere thought of fucking you full of his cum again was enough to deplete his sanity. “Did you let Jay fuck you raw?” he growled, needing to know. 

You shook your head. “Never. Only you.”

Satisfied, Taeyong inched between your parted legs, mouth watering at how eager you were for him and the sight of your wet cunt on display for his eyes alone. He wanted to destroy you, but that was if you didn’t leave him in ruins first. 

Taeyong glided his cock to and fro on your folds, coating himself in your arousal. Your teeth clamped onto your bottom lip every time he brushed your clit, sensitive and tender, and at one point you determined the teasing had to be deliberate. 

You sucked in a gasp when he finally began to push inside, teeth clamping harder. Any moment now, they would be damp with blood. Your eyes rolled to the back of your skull as soon as you were filled to the core, every inch of him swallowed by your non-loosening cunt. The grip was deathly, as if you refused to let him go. It tore a mean growl out of him that only made you clamp around him even tighter. 

Taeyong set a hurried rhythm that made the bed tremble with his movements. He wanted to be slow, wanted to draw it out, but the way you gripped him so warmly and tight said otherwise. His body was on autopilot, driven by impulse and desire. 

Every time he thrusted in, you whimpered. You had been counting down the hours until you could finally have him, scrambling for distraction after distraction, and it was so worth it. 

“God,” you whimpered, standing at the threshold of insanity. 

Taeyong was right behind you. Wherever you went, he was hot on your heels. Under your spell, he would follow you into a ring of fire. 

Metaphorically speaking, he was already balls deep inside one. 

Heat split you right down the middle. Nothing less than earth-shattering. It was a prominent fact that Taeyong had enjoyed both inflicting and watching you come apart under his heel. You were stranded at the very eye of a pleasure-induced vortex, with no top and no bottom. No start and no finish.

Just never-ending pleasure.

“I missed this,” Taeyong growled, making your breath crawl in your throat. “I missed you.”

You searched tirelessly for the strength to speak. “Me, too,” you croaked. 

A sigh of pleasure parted your lips as Taeyong continued to rock inside you. You were in disbelief that you could have ever given this up - given him up. Surely, you had to have been out of your mind. 

Taeyong knew your body like nobody else. Every scar, every strength, every weakness - the knowledge lay awake in the palms of his hands. You had been ignorant of how intimate it was until you fell for him, and now it was unignorable. The depths of the power he had over you. 

Little did you know, you had the same power over him. His fate lied in your hands. He was vulnerable to you in ways the rest of the world would never see. 

In the same way that he owned you, you owned him. 

“God, you’re amazing,” Taeyong moaned, every piece of his self-control floating in the ocean somewhere. As was yours. 

Tears of pleasure welled in your eyes. You were being reduced to tears. To be under Taeyong again, it felt natural and whole. Like this was how it was meant to be. 

Your noises were spiraling out of control. Taeyong made it all too easy to forget that other people existed in this great, huge world. In your mind, it was only you and him. 

Taeyong clamped a palm over your mouth and shushed you. “Quiet, baby. You’ll make somebody mad.”

He was making you mad. 

You clenched the sheets in your fists to anchor yourself, but even the bed was giving way to his lack of mercy. Your sounds were smothered by his palm, but you were crying out his name and he could tell. 

Taeyong proudly watched the sight of you convulsing beneath him, breasts bouncing and your skin beading with glimmering sweat. In the same vein, sweat gathered at his forehead and his chest heaved. You were making a mess of the sheets - making a mess of each other. 

“I’m gonna cum,” you warned, pulse speeding as you neared release. 

However close you were, Taeyong was likely even closer, and he stuffed a hand between your warm legs, toying with your clit. Your response was instant, legs instinctively trying to close, but Taeyong moved his hand that was clamped over your mouth and gripped your thighs tightly. You watched his biceps seal your movement, taut with muscle. 

You could merely squirm, unable to remain still. Taeyong knew exactly which buttons to mash. You were going to fall apart in record time. 

“Let go with me,” Taeyong pleaded, endeavoring to coax you into an orgasm. “Please, baby.” 

You were so lost, so tangled in his web. Like a fly to a spider. You knew you were doomed then, but you had no room to desire actual release; only the kind that set your soul free.

And a billion emotions with it.

Your bodies moved in league with one another, you arching into him. You were nothing short of restless. Orgasm was calling your name in a chant, sweet and honey-like. It was impossible to ignore what your entire body yearned for. 

You surrendered, shuddering with climax. Taeyong had to lock his palm over your mouth again, smothering the scream you made as orgasm reduced you to only ecstasy. Your eyes closed as your lips tore open, your heart thumping mightily in your chest. You were scorching all over, skin on fire. 

Taeyong came not a moment later, cock twitching with climax. His teeth clamped into his bottom lip, and the growl that slipped between made you feel as if you could cum again on command. He anchored himself with his hands on your waist as his orgasm tore something absolutely inhuman out of him. 

The feeling of his cum stuffing you full made you moan. It made you feel whole and complete. You were limp against the mattress, lips parted in shallow breaths as you tried desperately to catch your breath. Taeyong slackened, collapsing at your side once sated. Meanwhile, you fought a smile as you felt his release trickling warmly down your legs and thighs. 

Taeyong’s first instinct was to check up on you, eyes big and starry as he asked, “Are you okay?“

You sighed, “Dunno. I think you broke me.”

His face tensed with concern and you busted into laughter. 

“I’m kidding,” you said, pressing a brief but reassuring kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I’m all good, baby.”

Taeyong smiled softly. A moment of silence passed, but it was pleasant. You listened to the sounds of each other’s breath, comforted because it was proof that you were there. Neither of you wanted to move or leave, content to merely be in the presence of one another.

Taeyong had you and you had Taeyong. That was all you needed. 

“Tell me you’ll stay,” Taeyong said, breaking the silence first. 

“I’ll stay.” 

Like he was unsatisfied, Taeyong added, “Tell me you’ll never leave.”

“I’ll never, ever leave you. You have my word on that,” you promised solemnly. “I don’t want to pretend anymore, Taeyong. I love you.” 

Taeyong’s heart pounded with both awe and ache. His fingers laced through yours and squeezed comfortably. “You don’t have to pretend with me. I promise.”

You both lay comfortably in each other’s embrace, your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat spelling your name. 

The morning you all had to check out of the hotel, you leaned your back against your car, facing the resort fondly. It had been one hell of a week here, but you were appreciative. 

As always, Taeyong was right at your side. 

“What have we both learned from this trip?” 

“We both run from our issues like cowards,” Taeyong drawled, a wry smile on his face. 

“Mm. How compatible are we,” you deadpanned. 

Taeyong stole a quick kiss and snickered. “Very.” 

Yesterday you announced to your mutual group of friends that you were dating, as well as the fact that Rosé and Jaehyun were dating now. Which - as expected - garnered a handful of mixed responses. It would definitely take some time to get used to. 

Not like you cared. For once you were contentedly in love. No more dwelling on the days of the past, wondering what could have and should have been if you would have done this or that. 

Taeyong seemed to have the same idea. His heartache finally subsided after years. It was him that had left, but you were the one that got away. 

“I love you,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around his body and resting your head on his chest. “I need you to know that.”

Taeyong was beaming. Never had he been more in love. You were his first, his last, and his everything in between. 

“I know,” Taeyong replied. His heart was at ease at last. “I will never forget it, baby.”

#taeyong smut #nct 127 smut #nct smut #taeyong x reader #nct imagines #taeyong imagines #lee taeyong smut #nct x reader #nct #nct scenarios

[catboyieejeno]

Camera Roll; jung jaehyun

screenshots you've taken from facetime calls

more of the Camera Roll Series

+.*·

requests r open

+.*·

#nct imagines #nct x reader #nct fanfic #nct moodboard #nct smut #nct fluff #nct #nct doyoung #nct u #mark lee #nct 127 #haechan imagines #johnny suh #johnny imagines #jaehyun #jaehyun x you #jaehyun imagines #nct reactions #nct blurbs #taeyong imagines #yuta moodboard #yuta imagines #yuta x reader #mark fluff #mark blurb #doyoung #jungwoo #jaehyun fluff #nct jaehyun #jaehyun blurb

[ncityprincess]

how taeyong would be as a boyfriend

minors do not interact

-my sweet lil cancer baby 🫶🏾🤲🏾

-y’all know that episode of spongebob where mr. krabs falls in love with mrs. puff and he goes overboard with spoiling her

-that’s exactly how he would be 😭

-be prepared to be doted on and pampered

-worships the ground you walk on

-taeyong is such a giving person

-if you’re with him, you’ll never have to worry about money or anything

-seeing you happy makes him happy

-you’d go on tons of shopping sprees together and he’d encourage you to ball out

-“just get all of the colors babe it’s no big deal!” “that’s all you wanted!? grab a couple more things” “try this on, you NEED it”

-meanwhile you’re trying to tell him that you don’t need all this stuff 😭 he still buys them for you anyway

-you end up meeting his family early on in the relationship

-encourages you to be comfortable around his family and even plans little outings for all of you

-it means the world to him to see you enjoying yourself

-he would go all out for birthdays and holidays

-introduces you to new thangs (i had to) and experiences

-he would love to go on group dates with your other couple friends

-arcade dates, amusement park dates, you name it!

-he’s also another one that would memorize all of your fast food and coffee orders

-brings you food without you having to ask

-loves to take you to the best restaurants in town

-but i think he would really love to be a homebody with you

-he doesn’t always want to share you with the world

-he just wants to be boo’d up with you in the house

-he wants you all to himself and will be right up under you 😌

-oh and you definitely won’t have to worry about cleaning and cooking

-he’s got that covered too

-loves to have cozy nights in at home where he cooks you guys a delicious steak and you share a few glasses of wine

-he literally cuts up your food for you so that you don’t have to

-shoot, he’d chew your food for you too if he could!

-you shouldn’t have to lift a finger when he’s around

-he’s extremely sentimental and caring too

-isn’t afraid to put his emotions out in the open

-his main love languages would be words of affirmation, gifts and quality time 🥹

-tells you he loves you at least 10 times a day

-extremely nurturing and empathetic

-i mean the man performed surgery on his fish and dedicated a song to his puppy 🥺

-you would get that treatment x100

-would let you cry on his shoulder for 4 hours straight

-needs to hear reassuring words too

-he’s just a big softie at heart

-he likes to just sit in comfortable silence with you

-sometimes he puts on a soothing playlist and just lays his head on your lap while you’re chilling on the couch

-or he’ll offer you a nice massage

-and usually the massages come with pure intentions

-but once you start making little noises of relaxation and pleasure

-those intentions aren’t so pure anymore 😈….

#nct 127 hard hours #nct taeyong #taeyong hard hours #taeyong x you #taeyong #taeyong x y/n #taeyong x reader #taeyong smut #taeyong suggestive #lee taeyong #nct scenarios #imagine nct #imagine taeyong #taeyong imagines #nct fanfic #nct smut #nct 127 smut

[drxmxss]

hii i wanted my first post to be a little (very) silly 🤭 so here’s random texts with taeyong!!

this is pure crack so enjoy! as always my inbox is open for any requests or questions 🩷🩷

#nct 127 #nct #nct fake texts #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct fluff #nct taeyong #nct fanfic #taeyong #taeyong imagines #nct x reader #nct texts #there is a severe lack of taeyong content on this website so i will do it myself!!

[wontune]

⚝ Taeyong ( nct 127 ) lockscreen .

#taeyong lee #taeyong scenarios #taeyong edits #taeyong wallpaper #taeyong icons #taeyong imagines #taeyong packs #taeyong wallpapers #taeyong lq icons #taeyong layouts #taeyong lockscreens #taeyong x reader #taeyong x you #taeyong x y/n #taeyong messy icons #taeyong messy layouts #taeyong moodboard #nct 127 taeyong #nct 127 icons #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 oneshot #nct 127 packs #nct 127 lockscreens #nct 127 layouts #nct 127 moodboard #nct 127 messy moodboard #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 x you #nct 127 x y/n #nct 127 x male reader

[i4oba]

nct 127 as… / fanfiction aus!? 🏡…

[take the quiz here to see which one you get!]

✰ TAEYONG — street racer!au

you hated that taeyong’s hobby has never changed: it was rather infuriating how he couldn’t have stopped with those stupid street races which he couldn’t even miss once; you had known lee taeyong ever since from elementary school, and you knew all too well how his biggest dream was to take part in formula 1, but a poor boy, living on the countryside can only dream of achieving such heights, he would never be able to reach that. you don’t even know how the two of you got to befriend each other, it might have been that chemistry project where you two were assigned to work together in that old fashioned “the breakfast club” way on saturdays, as you couldn’t properly behave. you two slowly became good friends, and then… something you weren’t able to describe, it was way too confusing, and growing up you two realised that the period of time when you were together, as a couple, was more than just toxic, pretty much unhealthy. you left him for good finally, leaving behind this mess of a relationship when you got accepted to the university of your dreams, after taking one year off of studies because of whatever reason you foolishly came up with. since taeyong’s name was pretty well known by then in the world of street racing, you knew fully well that he wouldn’t just quit for school which he despised anyways. after breaking up, you left everything unsolved between the two of you, leaving behind the memories as well, trying to make it easier for the both of you, after all. you weren’t mean. but that’s the first word in taeyong’s mind when he spotted you standing there at the track: it seemed as if your face became skinnier, your eyes were teary, hair somewhat shorter than what he was used to. you had changed, he decided, when you took a step closer to his car, which he couldn’t bring himself to change up. but he hadn’t changed in your eyes: he was still that little boy filled with enthusiasm, absolutely crazy for race cars, the taste of speed and you. especially you. “please, be careful” you whispered gently, as he drove away way too fast, as soon as the flag fell down. and then he disappeared in the night, loud and swift.

✰ TAEIL — teacher!au

when you applied for a job at the elementary school of the new town you’d moved to, you made a resolution in mind, learning from previous mistakes: you won’t be so forgiving with your students, you won’t let the parents tell you how to do your job and most importantly, you will NOT fall in love with someone at work ever again (it seemed fatal by then, since you had to leave your previous job because of that). you didn’t have that much of experience as a teacher, your diploma was pretty fresh, gathering dust on the drawer, but you would never let that make you feel less: you were enthusiastic, very thoughtful, as you brought cupcakes for your class, for example! i mean, on the previous night, while decorating the cupcakes with that pinkish icing, you wouldn’t have thought this would be the first step of the chain reaction – you fucked up a few times before when it was time for the first impressions, and let’s be real, that’s exactly what happened on your first day too: you clumsily dropped the whole tray of sweet treats in the entrance of the teacher’s lounge, half of the cupcakes actually ending up on one of your colleagues, who you had tons of gossips going around in the hallways following shortly. and you couldn’t even deny the obvious attraction you felt towards moon taeil, who you fell in love with on the first sight. he was a biology teacher which… well, made place for a few inappropriate biological jokes (well, yeah, sex-ed) coming from the sixth graders, or! the silly theories coming from the youngest of students, telling their parents that you are for sure pregnant (which would’ve made you furious if it wasn’t for their undeniable cuteness).

✰ JOHNNY — high school reunion!au

the first high school reunion of yours was arranged by the student who used to be the council president of your class, who even sent out handmade invitations to everyone, hoping that most of the class would go, not holding grudges against each other anymore, no matter how the bond between everyone of you was pretty much terrible. you were not that big of a persona amongst your peers, you were rather quiet, much like an outcast during your high school years, sometimes addressed with the ominous word “weird”, so you weren’t even planning on going, since you knew very well: no one would bother to notice you being there, or your absence either. it was in the last possible moment when your mother persuaded you finally, after a very big fight between the two of you, offering a ride as well, because (whether it’s a shame or not) you failed your traffic exam once again. focusing on this mainly, you were afraid you would come off as a total loser, as you always fail no matter what. but, after not much of thinking, you decided that you can simply lie, since you live very far away from this dusty little town anyways, no one could actually fact check what’s actually true from what you tell. even on the ride to your old school, you were thinking of false fun facts you could say when someone asks something, telling yourself that it’s not that big of a deal, not that big of a lie – as soon as you stepped into the school itself, though, the damn nostalgia reminded you how much of a loser you had always been. plus, the sight of johnny seo made the situation even worse. your throat felt dry, palm sweaty as your courage left your body slowly, evaporating suddenly, as a fully random girl from your class showed something on his phone to you, laughing loudly in your ear, adding something witty too; you were in love with johnny for a long time, and everyone who got to find this out sooner or later, decided to turn it against you as soon as they got the chance, like those mean, little girls in elementary. you never knew how johnny felt about you, since he never actually told you, or brought it up either, because he was simply understanding. well, in the dimly lit bathroom of the school, pressed against the cold tiles, you knew exactly what he might have felt, kissing you messily, like someone who had been starving. you two were cowards to tell the truth to each other, afraid of making steps forward.

✰ YUTA — rockstar!au

it was pretty much a cliché to hear the “i’m with the band” sentence over and over again, but when you started using it… no one could ever stop you. you were proud that your boyfriend reached his goals and his biggest dream, and every time you saw the ever growing audience at their concerts, a certain, really warm feeling appeared in your chest, slowly filling the whole of your body, which, let’s be real, got to your head a few times. the band had been a thing ever since you were high schoolers, really active ever since the first practice in that musty basement, not too intense back then, but really consistent, persistence paying off in the end, resulting in concerts, albums, and whatnot, including interviews – both of your worlds turned upside down, and nakamoto yuta, as the front man of the group became a star, bringing you with himself everywhere they had to go, like a lucky charm. he felt at ease whenever he could spot you in the crowd, maybe in the first row, dancing and singing along to their songs, or at times when you gave an intense, adrenaline driven kiss on his lips before their performances, rewarding him with something more after… somehow it all worked out, since you two were insanely, madly in love with each other. but how long is this going to be the norm? you’re afraid of guessing.

✰ DOYOUNG — royalty!au

it felt a little chaotic as you spent your time in the spacious library of the palace, dressed in your newly made red velvet dress and a crimson coloured mask on your face, far from the ball room, and even further from the musicians, the aristocrats and young men, ready to ask for your hand in marriage. you were only able to stay for one dance, not having the patience to talk to complete strangers, to dance with heirs you didn’t even know of, and to let them get the best of you, waiting for the right time to use you for their own good. no, you’re not suitable for such things, even if it sounded a little selfish at that moment. it bothered you anyway, that you had to look for The One you could marry – you didn’t want to decide during one night only, whether they could enjoy your company for the rest of their lives, or not. to decide who’s the richer man, you could envision yourself with. you sneaked out in a second, when no one actually paid attention to you anymore. you only found the library purely out of accident, but it was such a pleasant accident since you felt like you were home there. it was quiet, the room filled with the scent of old books, and you were left alone with your own feelings and wandering thoughts. or so you thought at first, until someone stormed inside the library, following you shortly (you wanted to guess how much time you spent there, completely lost in the world of books but you lost your sense of time soon after entering). you didn’t even pay attention to the new guest, you simply continued with the intriguing, dusty book in your hands. the newcomer, however, decided to take a seat right next to you, with his own novel he got from one of the closer shelves. he didn’t say a word, but you could feel the smirk playing on his face, angrily closing your book, looking at him with furrowed eyebrows. he didn’t have a mask on, which made you recoil a little, your breath hitching at the sight of such handsome young man, turning the pages of his poem anthology with a smile on his face. his gaze met yours when he looked up, winking at you mischievously. and that funny, unfamiliar feeling you felt at that moment, couldn’t have been described in any of those books laying around, although there was at least a thousand of them. only the boy next to you would be able to do so: kim doyoung, the prince of the kingdom, the heir of the throne.

✰ JAEHYUN — forbidden love!au

you hated hearing the word “forbidden”, although you had heard it several times growing up. you’re not a monarch, you bear no wealth and you basically have nothing else either, but the always so kind and warmhearted heir, jaehyun, couldn’t stop spending his precious time with you, since he enjoyed your company to the extent that you were ashamed of it. you had been selling flowers on the street ever since you were a little girl, mind filled with dreams and false hope. jaehyun always made you feel important, never getting in your way of achieving what you’d always been dreaming of. he was always following your steps, much like the shadow of you, not wanting to leave you any time soon. you could’ve thought it was because of the close friendship between the two of you, and you had always been a little oblivious of recognizing such hidden signs. you let him hug you, smile the brightest whenever he looks at you, and you let him waste your time which you were keen on sacrificing for him, not once hesitating whether what you’re doing is right or not. maybe it was a waste of time to spend your time at the flower field together, smelling the sweet scent of flowers, gazing at the sky endlessly. the stupid feelings were so blind and deaf, they couldn’t hear the obvious alarms of “forbidden” being shouted time to time – when he kissed you for the first time, you didn’t feel guilty. you deserved that. guilt only arrived when it was too late already.

✰ JUNGWOO — fake dating!au

you were actually serious about that contract and the paperwork, as an all too practical person you had always been, but jungwoo shook his head, declining your offer every time, saying how stupid it actually was… since you two are friends, right, and this is a one time only thing. it’s just one night, where you can surprise your family, to let them know that you’re not suffering from relationship problems or anything. you got bored of them always bringing it up, and jungwoo had enough of hearing you complaining about it, so he came up with this whole “fake dating” idea. you weren’t too optimistic, especially since your whole family knew about him, which could make you both seem a little suspicious. he calmed you down, though, telling you that you’re just paranoid, and you can say, after a good two or three months, that you two broke up through tears. little did jungwoo know, that you were afraid of a different thing… which involves the feeling of love you had been feeling towards him for years. you didn’t want to let him know about this silly crush you had on him, but you clearly knew that this night will change everything, as you two will have to act like a real couple for the whole night, and you weren’t sure whether you would be able to leave it all behind, once you get used to it. selfish or not, you were afraid that after a night where you two have to hold each other’s hand, kiss each other here and there (in the name of pure acting), you won’t be able to resist the confession. well, it’s such a rookie mistake to forget about the reason why jungwoo offered this whole thing, right?

✰ MARK — childhood friends to lovers!au

ever since you've basically known your name, mark has been the boy next door. there was the cheeky, red letters of "lee" painted on the mailbox, the windows were adorned with the same coloured curtains, and the same doormat has been sitting in front of their door for ages. you have loved mark ever since you two have met. there wasn't a day where you wouldn't think of him, and there hasn't been a day when you haven't loved him. it was like a vicious circle which you couldn't get out of, because those stupid feelings would destroy the oh so precious friendship of yours, and you cannot let that happen, right? i mean, that's what you've thought for far too long, since this friendship meant more to you, than the fragile feeling of love – you didn't want it to get to the point where you would rather spit on each other, than talk it out. maybe that's why you pushed him away from yourself? maybe you just did that because you weren't too sure of your own peace of mind? no matter what, you knew the decision itself was wrong, only to realize it way too late. damaging the friendship and crying yourself to sleep was all your fault, after all, being way too proud and scared, stupid even; when you came back to the town where you two grew up, the least thing you wanted was to meet mark lee, mainly because you wouldn't have been able to look him in the eyes after all these happened. but you had to, so soon you even got a little surprised. it's been a while since the last time you have been home, your bedroom seemed way too unfamiliar at that point, just like the vhs tape placed directly in the middle of your bed. one which you haven't seen yet. it didn't have a title, the white label completely empty as you picked it up. you were a little bit cautious when placing it in the system, waiting for it to play whatever is on it, not having such large imagination to expect anything. it was a home video montage, full of videos of you and mark: playing together, getting ready for the first day of school, going to the movies, the way you two got engaged in middle school as a joke, and the omnious day of prom... you got teary eyed, with one thing on your mind - you have to go and save whatever's left now. maybe you're not too late.

✰ HAECHAN — rivals to lovers!au

lee donghyuck's name rushed through the hallways of your music academy just as quietly as a whisper, and you never knew why was it all like that ever since you've stepped foot into the school. you couldn't even hide the way too obvious rolls of your eyes every time you heard it. lee donghyuck was one of the biggest prodigies at the academy, no one could even be considered as a rival for him, this is mainly why he was such a big living legend amongst the students - you couldn't even hide how annoyed this made you, especially because he made sure you knew this ever since you two were little. music played a huge part in both of your lives, and somehow, you two always seemed to be at each other's throat, the first place at being the best always changing between the two of you. you could never get rid of each other either; your dad, always being so positive, once said, on your way to the academy sometime between sophomore and junior year, that the only reason behind this is that you two are equally good at what you're doing. you were pretty much skeptic for the longest of time, and felt as if you were destined to be the forever second next to him. you've had enough of always bumping into walls, since hyuck was the one who could stand at the first place ever so proudly. in kindergarten, in middle school, and even in high school, every. god damn. time. and that infuriating smile was plastered all upon his face even when you two were asked to not perform alone on the annual charity gala of your academy - you two had to perform something phenomenal, putting the childish jarring aside, growing out of the silly phase of hating each other, which was all made up by you, and you only, pushing the poor boy away from you. the boy who had always been so obsessed with you, utterly and completely. he won this time again, isn't it right?

#nct 127 #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 writings #nct 127 au #nct 127 drabbles #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 headcanons #taeyong imagines #taeyong x reader #taeyong blurbs #taeil x reader #taeil imagines #johnny x reader #johnny imagines #johnny headcanons #yuta x reader #yuta imagines #yuta drabble #doyoung x reader #doyoung imagines #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun drabbles #jaehyun headcanons #jungwoo x reader #jungwoo imagines #jungwoo fluff #mark lee imagines #haechan imagines

[rjunswrld]

like chili so hot!

taeyong x thick POC! reader

consensual somnophila, pwnp, oral fixation, slight overstimulation, oral (receiving), relationship established au, spoiled reader

taeyong is a gentleman. he had so much love to give and it was all for you. you being the princess in your relationship he wanted to do everything for you no matter what it was, you have debt that needs to be paid off? he's on it. short on cash? take his wallet. hungry? he'll buy out your favorite restaurant.

he was the provider even though he knew you could take care of yourself he wanted you to be stress free, to live a life of luxury and never lifting a finger.

but what consumed him was his greedy fixation over you, that damn greedy fixation was like an itch he couldn't scratch and seeing you laying beside him with your face scrunched and small whimpers escaping you, he thought that maybe you must be having a nightmare.

his craving grew stronger the longer he looked at you, chest heaving slightly as you tossed your head side to side he felt his mouth salivating, god he felt dizzy.

his body was running hot he couldn't stop thinking about it, your legs around his head as he ate you out it was so fresh on his mind. and you knew all too well of his lovely fixation, when you both started becoming sexually active he confessed how much he loved giving head, how much he loved seeing you enjoy yourself letting the euphoric feeling strike through you over and over and fuck was he so good at it: he wanted nothing more but to make you feel good both physically and mentally. check✓

he's done this all before, you both did! somnophila was something the two of you were all too welcomed to being such an insatiable couple- if one of you wanted each other so badly you both consented to it. being so needy of you he couldn't wait till morning he needed it. now. with the warmth of the room the duvet barely covered your body, draping off your stomach he removed the blanket fully from you. being greeted in your tank top and underwear he felt like he was served his favorite meal all for him to eat- in this predicament it was fitting for him.

it was like he hit the jackpot, smirking as he sat on his knees staring down at you before parting your legs. he moved fast, laying down on his tummy only to be face to face with your white underwear- white underwear signifying purity and innocence knowing that you were far from that stereotype. his eyes looking up at you still sleeping peacefully, seeing that maybe your nightmare had rolled past and you were calm. your breathing was steady and your face in relaxation you looked so soft. he kitten licked you through your panties, brows furrowed slightly feeling your warmth radiating from your thighs to your cunt god he was gonna faint soon. he hooked his fingers against the band of it, pulling them down slowly and cautiously, watching your skin show more and more. so pretty, so so pretty.

biting down on his lip he pulled them down just enough to expose you to him, kissing the mound of your pussy soothingly before kissing lower and lower he was already pussy drunk before even getting a taste. so tasty. he used his index and middle fingers to spread you open just to stare at it, drooling at how perfect your pussy was and only he got to see it, his name written all over it.

he did what he does best and proceeded to lick your clit softly with a mix of a sloppy kiss. letting your clit softly with a mix of a sloppy kiss. letting his tastebuds sink in your tangy essence he wanted more, collecting spit in his mouth pushing his lips together letting the saliva drip from his mouth onto your pussy he went back to work, focusing on your clit just how you liked with soft sucks here and there he was going crazy- producing such loud and nasty sounds between your legs he couldn't stop. feeling your body twitch slightly licking against the right spot that shoots through you he knew he had you, even in your groggy state you moaned softly.

your dream quickly turning into a wet one(figuratively and physically)

you couldn't help but squirm, your eyes fighting to open once your dream state disappeared you were greeted with your boyfriend long gone in your pussy. feeling him pick up speed, licking up your growing wetness and swallowing it up briefly before focusing on your clit ruthlessly. "t-taeyong.." you rasped with your back arching subconsciously. "let me take these off of you properly real quick baby." removing your panties fully at such speed. "need you.. need more.." ignoring his reply you softly whispered.

say no more taeyong is at your service.

shoving his face closer into you with his nose poking against you, his hands sliding under your thighs to let his hands rest against your sides as he looked up at you. staring at your facial expressions as he began to suck at your clit softly biting the flesh making your thighs shake slightly. he could never get over you. the feverish licks caused you to grind down onto him feeling your orgasm building up in the pit of your stomach. "fuck!" you gasped reaching down to tangle your fingers in his freshly dyed hair. "c-close.." you strained out in such pleasure. no words could be spoken from him with his eyes saying all that he could, drinking you up like you were his source of hydration. holding down your

sides as he began to grind against the bad to tame himself, he let out grunts against you feeling hisbreathing become uneven. you found the sight of it so fucking hot, your pleasure was his top priority

nothing less and nothing more. "c-cumming!" your body shaking as your back arched as high as it could, goosebumps cascading down your body you let out a squeal as your orgasm ripped through you with moans falling past his lips licking up everything you got- not missing any of it he made sure he didn't, with how sloppy he was he could feel it dripping down his chin. "y-yongie stop!" you shivered with your thighs closing against his head he closed his eyes pulling his forearms over your thighs to keep you in a hold as he didn't dare stop. at this point he couldn't, you were so tasty.

☆

#nct 127 #nct taeyong #nct u #nct smut #nct u smut #taeyong #taeyong x reader #taeyong x you #lee taeyong #poc reader #lee taeyong smut #taeyong smut #taeyong imagines #kpop smut

[hugs2doie]

hi nini !!!! may i request random jeno/taeyong bf texts? you can choose between two of them 🫶🏻 love u lots and stay hydrated! mwah ❤️

of course AND RHANK U SM!! U TOO 💘 i hope u like this <3

random taeyong bf texts !

pairing: bf!taeyong x gn!reader

genre: a biiiit of angst in some parts but mostly fluff

warnings: none

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

reqs r open !

#nct #nct fluff #nct headcanons #nct imagines #nct dream #nct reactions #nct scenarios #nct taeyong #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 fake chats #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 fanfic #nct 127 fake texts #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 taeyong #taeyong x reader #taeyong imagines #taeyong scenarios #taeyong texts

[ourdadai]

oioii, você poderia fazer locks do taeyong? 🤍

nct [ taeyong ] lockscreens ♡

#taeyong lockscreens #taeyong packs #taeyong #taeyong lq icons #taeyong layouts #taeyong lee #taeyong icons #taeyong imagines #nct taeyong #nct layouts #nct lockscreens #nct 127 #nct icons #nct imagines #nct incorrect quotes #nct lee taeyong #nct moodboard #nct masterlist #nct incorrect texts #nct instagram #nct packs #nct lq icons #nct wallpapers #taeyong aesthetic #taeyong moodboard #taeyong messy layouts #taeyong messy icons #taeyong edits #taeyong smut #taeyong scenarios

[woliefairr]

❀𝆬 nct ( taeyong ) lockscreens.

✩ – se pegar : curta, siga & reblogue !!

#woliefairr #taeyong packs #taeyong wallpapers #taeyong lee #taeyong gif #nct taeyong #taeyong moodboard #taeyong messy layouts #taeyong messy icons #taeyong lq icons #taeyong layouts #taeyong lockscreens #taeyong edits #taeyong icons #taeyong imagines #taeyong #taeyong nct #nct dream #nct 127 #nct moodboard #nct messy moodboard #nct messy icons #nct messy layouts #nct messy packs #nct layouts #nct lockscreens #nct lee taeyong #nct lq icons #nct packs #nct pics

[lebrookestore]

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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Camera Roll; lee jeno

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[writemekpop]

Sleepless | Lee Taeyeong

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

Genre: Established relationship AU, angsty

Word Count: 0.8k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fine.”

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But the… fire…” he said.

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

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

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

But after a long moment, something in him softened.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Taeyong’s smile dropped.

“Too soon?” you asked.

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

—

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[anashins]

The Other Brother

Pairing: Taeyong x You (feat. Jaehyun)

Genre: fiancé’s younger brother au, runaway bride, mutual pining (they just don’t know it yet), hate to love, angst, romance, smut

Warnings: rough smut, choking, mc is two years older

Word Count: 15.8k

Summary: Your wedding day is supposed to be the happiest day of your life, but mere hours before the ceremony, you get cold feet and seek shelter with your fiancé's younger brother - the last place on earth where you want to be as you have never gotten along. But as the time of your wedding draws closer, you start to think that you might have ended up with the wrong brother after all.

Six hours before the wedding

You and Taeyong have known each other for ten long years, starting from when you were seventeen and he fifteen. And for every single one of those years, you’ve ignored, offended, argued, mocked and generally rubbed each other up the wrong way. 

When you thought about your fiancé’s younger brother, you remembered how he threw sand on your food, called you a crybaby, shoved you into the pool, kicked a ball at you, hid bugs under your pillow, and many more worse things. 

Yes… Jaehyun’s younger brother was the total opposite of him. 

Where your fiancé was warm, kind and good-hearted, Taeyong was cruel, mean and ruthless - but not only to you. He hated everyone and everything, and it seemed the entire world hated him too. Though only you, he appeared to despise more than anyone else, and you had never quite understood why, having given up approaching him a long time ago. 

Throughout all those years, you had never been able to form a bond. Yet, he was the only person you considered calling when you ran away from your own wedding.

“Ca- can you please come pick me up?”

Your phone was shaking in your hand as you pressed it closer to your ear, barely being able to hear him at the other line due to the loud noise the rain made as it mercilessly pattered onto the asphalt. It was already soaking through your hair and bright white gown, not only wetting, but also dirtying the garment in which you were supposed to walk down the aisle in a few hours.

This downpour was the forerunner of autumn, and the next season was approaching early this year. The sudden drop in temperature made you shiver, but you hadn’t been able to grab a jacket before running out of the venue. Since it was still early in the morning, you had been all alone while trying on the gown and waiting for the others - the possible worst mistake you could have made on the day of your wedding. Suddenly, panic had taken over you and you felt like you couldn’t breathe anymore.

Taeyong didn’t ask questions over the phone, he only wanted to know, “Where are you now?”

“At-... at the wedding venue…”

“I’ll be there.”

You were waiting under a tree in the driveway, silently praying that none of the employees you had hired for your big day would start their shift so early except for the ones who had opened the venue for you. To them, you had said you needed some fresh air and dismissed all questions about why you ran out into the pouring rain in your wedding gown and with no umbrella for protection.

Tires squealed when a black car came to a halt in front of you. Either he had been incredibly fast or you had been too swept up in your thoughts while waiting. Nonetheless, you ruffled the long tulle skirt around your waist and sprinted through the rain right to the vehicle where the door already opened for you from the inside, collecting the meters and meters of fabric until every inch of the pompous dress fitted with you on the seat.

As soon as the door fell closed, you felt like a huge burden had been lifted off your shoulders, like you had finally gotten rid of a pesky chaser. But today was your wedding day, and no one was supposed to feel like this on their own wedding day.

“Thank you.”

“Where to?” Taeyong asked, the car already moving. 

He was not dressed according to his duty today as the best man, but casually as though he had quickly thrown some clothes together before driving here. He was a night owl, partying very often and very hard, and you only now noticed that at this time of the day, he probably only came home from a club. Or threw out a woman.

“Just… away, please.”

“There is a jacket in the backseat. Take it.”

“Thank you.” 

You turned around and reached for the leather jacket that was sprawled out behind the driver’s seat. At first, you were reluctant in case it was from one of his flings who had forgotten it here, but as you put it on, it hung way too loose around your upper body, indicating that this really was Taeyong’s after all. 

You shivered a bit less with the jacket on and your heart felt lighter as well the further you drove away from the venue, the view onto the building already blurred by the rain in the rear mirror. Good, just far away from it, anywhere was fine. You hadn’t chosen this venue yourself anyway, just like the dress. Everything was so big, too much, too pretentious. You hadn’t wanted this all.

The gown’s fabric felt wet and heavy in your hands and you tried to place it in a way that would make it easier for you to sit while Taeyong was driving silently, not uttering a word, not even throwing side glances at you. If it were Jaehyun sitting next to you, he would have already bombarded you with questions as to why you had run away from the venue at such short notice. 

But Taeyong didn’t inquire about anything. That was the reason why you had called for him in the first place and not for anyone else. You had never had some kind of relationship. He would not bother you, he would not try to sympathize with your situation.

Time passed, having enveloped you in silence until the car came to a halt right in front of a place you had only been to once when you had lost your keys and Jaehyun was out of town. Even back then, you had only spoken the bare minimum to each other as he had thrown the keys out of his window with you catching it on the street.

“I figured the last place anyone would ever search for you was at mine.”

He was right. Nobody would search for a runaway bride at the groom’s younger brother’s home she had never formed a bond with. 

The rainfall hadn’t stopped, and you found it ironic that after weeks of pure sunshine, it rained only on this day like it was some kind of bad omen. You left the car after Taeyong, the long tulle skirt more of a hindrance than you had expected, but he was by your side within seconds and held the door open so that you could get out without stumbling. 

With hurried steps, you then followed him inside the building, the smell of mold and old furniture instantly meeting your nose. Taeyong didn’t live in a modern penthouse like you and Jaehyun, but in a single apartment at the other side of the city where you would usually never step foot in. Yet, it was the most secure place for you right now.

Reaching the third floor by foot, your wedding gown now felt as heavy as though the fabric was made of bricks. You stood awkwardly by the door after entering while Taeyong walked further into his flat without waiting for you.

“You coming?” He asked, turning his head back to you, his gaze lazy. “What are you waiting for?”

The tips of his platinum blonde dyed hair were wet as well from helping you out of the car, and he already had a towel around his shoulders where the small droplets fell on. You had always been fascinated by this unconventional color and his courage to just go through with it. Only now, you admitted to yourself that he pulled it off quite well.

You set one foot after another, slipping out of your sneakers that you then neatly placed next to the door. Despite this place not being yours and having other rules or no rules at all, you stuck to your routines before following Taeyong into the living room. 

“Wait here,” he said and disappeared into the room behind the living room which you assumed was where he slept before coming out a minute later with a staple of clothes and a towel in his hands. “Here. I figured you would want to take a shower and change your clothes.”

He was right. “Thank you. And I’m sorry about ruining your leather jacket.”

“Don’t worry about that. The bathroom is over there.”

You took the new clothings and the towel into your arms and went to where he was pointing his finger at. Surprisingly, it was the cleanest bathroom you had ever been in, even challenging yours. You hadn’t pegged Taeyong to be the neat type like you. But then again, you didn’t know him at all, so you had no right to be taken aback when you were so judgemental.

You first took off Taeyong’s leather jacket and started shivering all over again. It smelled like Taeyong himself - of lemongrass and ginger. Very manly, very significant. You knew because his car had also smelled of that and he left a faint scent wherever he went for years.

“You need help?” Taeyong asked, peeking into the bathroom as you hadn’t closed the door yet.

“Can you help me unzip the gown, please?”

“Sure.”

You didn’t know how you had gotten into it yourself, but taking off a dress was sometimes much harder than getting into one, especially as this one was a custom. You had never quite liked the heart neckline without straps, how tight the corset hugged around your cleavage and the meters of tulle that spread out like a cupcake from your waist downwards. It was excessive and flamboyant. It just wasn’t you.

You turned your back to Taeyong, and his fingers felt warm against your skin when he took the zip into his hand and pulled it all down.

“Thank you.”

“It doesn’t suit you anyway,” he deadpanned on his way out. 

“... what?”

“The dress.”

“I don’t need an insult now, Taeyong,” you sighed. “It’s not the time.”

“It was not an insult,” he cleared up monotonously. “I was just indicating that a more classic wedding dress would have suited you much better.”

A classic wedding dress, hm. A dress made of rich silk in the color of ivory that hugged you at the right parts and flowed down in an a-line. That was what you had dreamed of as well. But Jaehyun and your families had always pictured something else for you.

“I think so too,” you admitted before you closed the door behind you.

____

Five hours before the wedding

You stepped out of the bathroom in a pair of gray sweats that hung loose around your waist and a white t-shirt that was way too big for you too as they all belonged to Taeyong. But at least you had been able to get rid of that dress you hated so much. 

You still dried your wet hair with a towel, smelling of lemongrass and ginger yourself now as you had used Taeyong’s shower gel. He was sitting in the kitchen preparing some rice and side dishes as you walked in.

“I don’t own a hair dryer, I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay, I’ll be fine without one. What are you doing?”

“Breakfast. I don’t know whether you’ve eaten yet or if you’re hungry at all. But I am… and just in case you’re too… I’m trying my best with what I already have.”

Breakfast consisted of leftover rice, fried eggs and some pickled tomatoes, but you were still grateful for him to stand in the kitchen and make all these despite not having expected guests.

“Thank you.”

“Please stop thanking me,” Taeyong urged when he placed the rice on two different bowls and brought them over to the table. Then, the eggs and tomatoes on other ones. “I lost count on how many times you thanked me already within the past hour. More than in all those years combined.”

“You’ve never given me any reason to thank you in the first place.”

He glared at you.

“I’m sorry, that was inappropriate,” you apologized sincerely. “I should be grateful for your hospitality.”

He simply ignored it. “Eat up before it gets cold.”

You took a seat opposite of him and put some eggs and tomatoes on your rice. It was a simple dish, but only now you realized how hungry you actually were since you hadn’t been able to eat anything since last evening - out of excitement. Or fear. You weren’t quite able to distinguish these two yet.

Suddenly, Taeyong’s phone started vibrating. But instead of looking at it, he looked at you while chewing. “Where is your phone?”

Your eyes widened, and in reflex, you touched the pockets of your joggers. “I assume I lost it while running to your car, or in this thick dress, I don’t know. My family must already be at the venue for the preparations though, and I’m supposed to be there too by now. They must be worried.”

Taeyong’s eyes darted to his phone, then back to you. “It's your mother. I should buy you some time to figure out what to do next.”

“But why is she calling you?”

“I suppose she called everyone else already.”

Until now, the damage that you had done hadn’t dawned on you yet. But for your mother to call Taeyong, she must be worried sick. 

“You want to talk to her yourself?”

“No. I still need to collect… my thoughts.”

“Okay.” Taeyong picked up his phone and greeted your mother. “I also don’t know where she is, I’m sorry… Perhaps, she’s gone to the tailor to get something on her dress fixed… Yes I will call when I know. Bye.”

Now, you were the one who glared at him, chewing angrily. “That’s the best you could come up with? Doesn’t sound so plausible or something that could take hours.”

“You should thank me in case you decide to show back up there. We can go anytime you want and nobody needs to know about your… temporary breakout.”

“It’s not temporary. I won’t be showing up at all,” you confessed reluctantly and placed the fork back on the top of the bowl after only a few bites, suddenly not feeling hungry at all anymore. The following words took you much overcoming. “I’m just collecting my thoughts to put them into the right words and tell him, them all. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing again?” He carried on with eating as though you hadn’t just dropped a bombshell.

“Because I’m blowing up a wedding that’s been the highlight for so many people. The guests, the money, the-”

“Screw the money, it will all come back,” Taeyong interrupted. “And screw the people. It’s not their wedding, it doesn’t matter what anyone else feels. It’s your decision alone.” Taeyong’s voice was calm and he put another bite of side dishes on his rice, appearing totally unfazed even though it clearly involved his brother. It was his wedding too.

You didn’t dare to dig deeper, to question what he exactly meant with that, why he was so supportive and didn’t talk you out of it, dragging you down the aisle himself if he must. Did he think he dodged a bullet and was secretly happy to finally get rid of you? Then why had he driven you all the way here and didn’t kick you out into the pouring rain again?

The rest of the breakfast was taken in silence and you volunteered to do the dishes. You didn’t leave it at that though and proceeded to not only clean the table, but also the tiles around the stove, although everything was already very spic and span. You just needed something to do until you knew how to proceed with the day. By the time you were done, your hair was also dry.

“You know you’re a guest and not my cleaning lady, right? Besides, it’s already very clean here,” Taeyong dropped in passing, peeking into the kitchen.

“It helps me get occupied and think about what to do next.”

“Don’t forget the refrigerator if you’re already at it, I never come around to do it myself.”

You stuck out your tongue, but couldn’t help it and bit down a chuckle.

____

Four hours before the wedding

With wrinkled fingers, you stepped into the living room where Taeyong was seated on the couch, watching TV. Your dress had found its way from the bathroom to a hanger by the door, a bit cleaner, but not less wet than before. Taeyong must have brought it out while you were occupied in the kitchen.

“I assumed you would want to store it and let it dry until then.” He looked up to you. “That is… if you still want to keep it.” His look was wary, but full of expectation. 

“I want to burn it.” Taeyong, who had always been the reckless and the most unratable person you knew, was now the one getting startled. “I don’t want to wear it ever again. I don’t even want to look at it.”

He hesitated. “I’ll put it away, okay?”

Taeyong stood up and took the dress with the hanger from the door. He brought it over to his bedroom so that it was out of your sight. At the very same moment, his cell phone began to ring. Your mother again, as you saw on the display. Of course, the time of the ceremony was drawing closer and there was no sight of the bride herself.

“What should I say this time?” Taeyong wanted to know from you upon his return.

“That the wedding today won’t happen.”

While you were in the kitchen, you had had enough time to think this all through. Your wedding day was supposed to be the happiest day of your life, not the most miserable one. There were no right words to tell your mother that you weren’t getting married anymore though, so you should just go with it by heart. You agreed on Taeyong inventing something until you got your phone back and were able to call your mother.

“I also don’t know where she is now anymore, I just heard from a friend… No, I don’t remember which one,” were the words you heard Taeyong speak in the bedroom while you sat on the couch, staring at the TV that was still running, but not quite absorbing the flickering pictures. “I’m supposed to meet with Jaehyun in an hour at the venue. I’ll be there soon, then we can talk.”

When Taeyong returned, he was already fully dressed with his shoes on and then reached for the leather jacket that you had worn shortly before. The keys were dangling in his fingers. “I will look for your phone at the spot where I picked you up. And they haven’t told my brother yet that you’re still not there, so I have to hurry before they break it down to him in the most insensitive way possible.”

Brother… Of course. How could you have been so ignorant and made it all about you? Jaehyun was Taeyong’s brother. The sole fact that you were here and seeking shelter probably already put him into a conflict of interest. Now, you even demanded him to do the dirty job for you. He should stay with his brother, supporting him throughout this hard time. Instead, you had forced yourself onto him, the one responsible for this entire turmoil.

“I… I am the one who isn’t supposed to be here,” you murmured more to yourself than to him. “I shouldn’t have dragged you into this… I was so selfish. I should go back and explain it to everyone, I should just… I should… I’ll fix this myself now.”

Like in a trance, you put your feet from the couch back on the ground, preparing yourself to leave, but Taeyong held you back by your shoulder. His hand dropped down to your arm until they found your cold palm, his fingers enclosing around yours in a reassuring gesture.

“Do you feel like going there?” His gaze was impenetrable, a great contrast to his comforting touch. Both possible responses could be right and wrong. “Answer me honestly, do you feel like seeing my brother? And I’m not referring to today. Do you feel like spending your life my brother… at all?”

“No.”

This answer came quickly and honestly, and Taeyong decided to act on it before you could change your mind. He arose, but this time it was you who held him back by his hand, scared to let go of him. Your expression showed desperation, and a bit of hope. You didn’t want him to go. You didn’t want to be alone right now.

And as though he was able to read your thoughts, he said, in the most tender tone you had ever witnessed him use with his thumb gently brushing over the back of your hand, “I’ll be back shortly, I promise.”

____

Three hours before the wedding

Taeyong’s lifestyle was entirely different from yours, the life you lived with Jaehyun. You were minimalistic, modern and followed an industrial interior design. Taeyong’s was a chaotic mess, he didn’t follow any style at all. 

While his kitchen was kept unoccupied and clean just like his bathroom where you had even noticed every etiquette of a bottle facing in the same direction, his living room was blocked with cabinets, shelves and even showcases where he displayed a collection of shoes and different figurines, some you recognized as animes as well as lego from different series and franchises. 

Also in the living room, next to the big TV, he had set up his gaming corner with three different screens. On the other side, something you oddly only noticed now, he kept fishes in a big tank. You hadn’t been aware that he was taking care of animals - a trait you had always been assured of said a lot about people: that they treated others with respect, that they were caring and endearing. Basically everything you hadn’t pegged Taeyong to be.

Since you were already on your feet, you made your way to the bedroom. You assumed that since you’ve seen everything else, he wouldn’t mind that as well with your wedding dress hanging in there anyway. In contrast to his living room though, his bedroom was free of most nick nacks. The bed was huge and unmade, but the many blankets and pillows looked very inviting. There were dumb bells on a yoga mat next to the window and aside from that, a huge closet that spread across the wall, with tids and bits of fabric peeking through the doors that seemed to barely close anymore.

You sat down on the bed, the mattress giving in under you. On the nightstand, there was a small lamp and a book. Upon closer inspection and picking it up, you recognized it was a book to learn English, and it had sat upon a pack of condoms that was already opened.

You rolled your eyes and wondered if, shortly before he had made his way to you, a woman was lying in here, hoping for a lazy morning but got thrown out. You put the book back on the package and flopped onto the bed. While staring at the ceiling, you listened to the rain still pattering against the window. Today had been a bad day to get married outside anyway.

As you laid there and slowly drifted off to sleep, you wondered when you had stopped imagining a life with Jaehyun.

____

Two hours before the wedding

“Jaehyun is a fool, what’s new.”

You started from your sleep, suppressing a gasp at the last minute. The bedroom’s door was only slightly ajar when you sat up, but you clearly heard people coming into the apartment and only counted yourself lucky to not be in their view right now.

One voice belonged to Taeyong. The other, clearly to his father.

“Don’t talk about your brother like this,” the elderly man chided. “Jaehyun is still keeping his hopes up, you should support him. Lately, she does these kinds of things, he told me. Like going clubbing with her friends and coming home only early in the morning. He had to talk her out of it as she’s a grown woman already. She even considered requesting a sabbatical at work and traveling the world. Jaehyun had to tell her to keep her stable job during such times. Also, she wanted to pick new furniture for their home, but he had to prohibit her that as they just recently moved in. In the end, Jaehyun knows her better. He’s positive she will still show up. Eventually, she always comes to her senses, that’s what he told me. She always does.”

This entire conversation made you so angry, your blood was boiling. You had never looked at it from this perspective. Eventually, you would come to your senses? Perhaps, that was the problem. You shouldn’t come to your senses in the first place. You had thought you would do Jaehyun a favor by listening to him, but when have you ever done yourself a favor?

“Why did he insist on you coming with me then?” They had already reached the living room as Taeyong asked this. 

“He thinks she might be coming over here at some point if not to the venue first, so he remained there and wanted me to wait here.”

“Why would she come over to my place?” Taeyong’s voice oozed with suspicion. “And even if, I could bring her too, there was no need for you to follow me here.” Your heart pounded against your chest so hard, you feared they would hear it. 

“Jaehyun said that it’s because when she gets cold feet, she will flee to the one person who won’t judge her, but not to her best friend as everyone would suspect her being there. I’m here to make sure to talk to her in a way that you won’t be able to.”

Taeyong snorted. “As you implied, we never had any kind of relationship, she would never seek shelter with me in the first place.” He was kind of a good liar, you had to admit.

“You might not have some sort of relationship,” his father explained calmly, “but you have some kind of mutual understanding going on between you two. You laugh at the same things, you brood over the same things, you argue over the same things. So Jaehyun was afraid you might hold her back and support her decision to cancel the wedding.”

“We barely even speak. Why would he feel that way?” Taeyong responded with much confusion, and you felt the same. 

“This, he never told me directly, but I can see too.”

“I have no right to judge her decision and you don’t have one either. If she wants to cancel the wedding, then she has every right to do so.”

“See? That was why I was supposed to come here. In the end, Jaehyun knows better.”

Silence.

“Excuse me for a bit, I’ll go get changed into dry clothes, okay?”

You slid from the bed and hid by the corner in the opposite direction of where he would enter. Taeyong spotted you right away and closed the door behind him. He put his index finger to his lips, gesturing you to stay silent and pulled something out of the pocket of his jeans. It was your phone.

You knew what you had to do. You had to call Jaehyun and tell him that there wouldn’t be a ceremony at this point, that he shouldn’t hold his hopes up anymore. This much, you owed him and everyone that was supposed to join the wedding today. But it was just so hard.

Tears burnt behind your eyes. Always, Jaehyun took care of the complicated things in your life such as doing taxes or asking for a refund. When it came down to these kinds of situations, you weren’t the strong, independent women you wanted to turn into anymore. You needed somebody’s help.

Taeyong withdrew the phone upon encountering your exasperated expression and went over to his closet where he pulled out some clothes to change into. You didn’t know why you hadn’t noticed before, but in the closet, next to your wedding dress, hung his suit that he was supposed to wear as a best man. But he didn’t touch that. 

Instead, Taeyong pulled his wide hoodie over his head along with the t-shirt that he wore underneath and revealed his muscular back to you upon changing. His muscles tensed and strained as he reached for a new shirt and dragged it over his torso. In only these few seconds, you had spotted a few tattoos you had never seen before. When had he gotten them and what were their meaning? You were curious and fascinated by a man who you had known for so long and still not at all.

When Taeyong turned around to you, he had typed an entire message into your phone and held it in front of you.

“I can’t marry you. I’m sorry.”

Short and painful. Just how you felt in reality. You nodded, and he sent the message. 

____

One hour before the wedding

Taeyong’s father left after only five more minutes. Jaehyun had called him, and judging by the way Taeyong now spoke heatedly into his phone as well, you assumed that the news about the bride canceling the wedding over a text had already reached all attendees while your own phone was turned off with everyone now supposing you were at your best friend’s house who luckily covered for you.

You knew Jaehyun deserved better as well as everyone involved. But you just weren’t there yet. When it came down to conflicts, you were never the confronting type and always let others fight these battles for you. Just like Taeyong at this moment. And he did it willingly and with much passion, you just didn’t know why. The Taeyong who ignored you, made snarky remarks and only turned his attention to you when there was something to laugh about or mock you with wouldn’t do all that. 

“Alright, alright. Yeah, I will call you should I receive news. Bye.” Drawing out a long breath, Taeyong flopped on the couch next to you. He was exhausted, his mouth dry from all the talking he had done in the past hour. 

You almost didn’t dare ask. “And…?”

“It’s all canceled.” He sounded annoyed. “They already dismantled the setting outside and sent everyone home.”

You hadn’t meant that. “I meant…”

“How Jaehyun is?” Taeyong almost snapped, and you flinched at his sudden change in demeanor. “I haven’t spoken to him. But you know my brother as well as me. He tries to keep his composure and help wherever he can, no matter how hard it’s been on him. That’s how he is, my brother, the golden child. Even not letting his feelings slip when he’s hurt to the core.”

He was mad, and despite him trying to keep his composure, you couldn’t hold it against him. He had every right to be angry at what you had done to his family and partially dragged him into it.

“I know I owe him an apology and an explanation,” you admitted.

He briefly added, “More than that.”

“What am I supposed to say to him? I don’t know yet. All I knew the moment I left the venue was that I didn’t want to get married to him and that it was the most painful and most selfish thing I have done.”

“What about the entire truth?”

“The entire truth reaches deeper than not wanting to get married today.” You fell back into silence, shifting awkwardly in your seating position. But you didn’t need to speak further. Again, Taeyong seemed to sense what was exactly going on inside of you.

“Ah,” he then declared with feigned festivity. “There it is. The girl who was practically forced into a relationship with the first nice guy she met and slowly discovers that there is more to the world than marrying your high school boyfriend and living a modest life in the suburbs, getting married and having kids.”

“There is no reason to be so nasty about it,” you hissed. 

“I bet you haven’t had sex in a year, am I right?” he continued mercilessly, and your stomach churned, making you suddenly feel so sick. “Or at least not in the way you want to. Always, you have only liked it reserved, in the conventional positions. I bet you haven’t tried it out from behind or with a grip around your neck. You don’t dare to speak it out to anyone, but that’s what you desire deep inside.”

How could you have possibly thought that coming here was a good idea? That for once, Taeyong was able to behave like a decent human being. He was as cruel and vile as ever.

His face then fell upon realizing the damage he had caused with his words. “Hey, I-”

But you were already out of the door, stomping down the stairs and back into the pouring rain. The wet droplets felt sharp in your face, like cold whips that also slung around your arms. You tried to protect your head from the rainfall with your hands that you spanned over your brows, but it had little to no effect.

You didn’t know for how long you had been walking when a black car halted next to you. By now, you were freezing, but you kept walking while he rolled down the window and matched the vehicle’s speed to your steps.

“Hey.”

Taeyong kept following you with the car, you walking on the pavement, him driving on the street next to you.

“Please stop.”

“No. You’re an asshole, Lee Taeyong.”

“I know,” he agreed. “But please get in the car. You’re catching a cold.”

You stilled, rain mercilessly coming down on you as though taking a second shower.

“Please…” he begged.

Muted, you turned over and opened the door. Just like mere hours before, you found yourself sitting in the passenger’s seat, soaked from head to toe, but this time not in your wedding gown anymore. After you had settled yourself, Taeyong didn’t restart the car though. You both kept staring at the window in front of you, barely seeing anything through the curtain of rain, but only listening to the sound of it.

After a while, Taeyong opened his mouth. “A year ago, my girlfriend left me.”

The confession took you by surprise. “I didn’t know you were in a relationship…”

“How would you? We barely know anything about each other’s life. I bet my brother also wouldn’t drop this news as he knew you wouldn’t be interested in hearing them.” His grip was still tight around the steering wheel, the knuckles of his fingers turning white, that was how tense he was. “But I was very much in love. I had even imagined myself marrying her. Can you imagine that? Me and marrying?”

Almost unnoticeably, you shook your head. “You were always… so free, independant, uncommitted. My total…”

“... opposite,” he ended your sentence. “Exactly. Yet, I met a girl that I loved so much, I imagined myself as a husband. But before I got the chance to propose, she broke it off with me.”

“... Why?”

“Because I wasn’t what she wanted. In the long run, it wouldn’t have worked out anyway, I realized. She only did what was best for us, even though it was painful and selfish at that moment, and I hated her very much for it. You can almost say a year ago, I was Jaehyun.”

“I put you in a conflict of interest, I know.” You dropped your head. “You can tell me to go, and I will go right now. I imposed myself on you like that. You have every right to send me away. I won’t be mad.”

“Don’t even think about it. Love makes you do crazy things. Sometimes, you have to do things that seem wrong from the outside but you know are right. I went through it already, I know both sides, that’s why I truly understand your feelings and empathize with them.”

“I still don’t understand why you’re with me and not Jaehyun if you were in his shoes back then. Basically, I’m like your ex now.”

“Because I know Jaehyun will be okay eventually. He always has everything under control.” The corner of his lip curled up, adding sorrow to his mien. “But do you?”

You had no answer to that. You knew it was the right decision, but continuing with your life all by yourself from now on was something you hadn’t put too much thought into. For ten years, you had someone by your side. How would it be now?

Taeyong continued nearly seamlessly, “I should have faced you with more understanding as I was already in such a situation, I’m honestly sorry for going off like that before. It just… reopened old sores.” 

Taeyong apologizing to you was something you had never expected to witness in this lifetime. “Thank you for telling me.”

“You thanking me again.” You looked at each other, and there was a smile displayed on his lips that was almost light-hearted this time. “That’s probably something that will never change about you.”

“Do you think I’m a goody two shoes?” You didn’t know what made you want to hear his opinion, but for the first time since you had known each other, you were having a decent, serious conversation. “Please be honest.”

“Are you kidding? Of course you are!” He laughed, and it was so high-pitched, it sounded like the windshields in the rain. You almost chuckled too. “That was why you matched so well with my brother as he is one too. You both have dreamed of the same things… marriage, a family, a house in the suburbs… children. But apparently, you’re not satisfied with all that anymore.”

You leaned back in your seat, slowly relaxing. “Was that also the case for you and your ex?”

“She wanted everything you wanted in the past. I’m not any of that. But with the past year, I figured that marriage has nothing to do with pursuing the same goals, you know.” He tried to provide you with another perspective on things. “If you love someone, you marry them. It takes nothing more. You only have to be sure that you want to spend the rest of your life with that person, no matter what is about to come. The rest will fall into place, you have to have faith.”

“And she didn’t feel the same way about you. Just like I don’t feel the same way about Jaehyun.” The scales fell from your eyes. “It has nothing to do with wanting different things in life. I just don’t want a life with Jaehyun anymore.”

“See. Don’t worry about what our father said. It’s okay if you want to try yourself out, venturing into different things. Nobody should hold you back on that. If you meet a person who’s willing to go through all of that with you, then you have nothing to worry about.”

A few silent beats passed before you directed a question at him out of curiosity. “What is it that you want in your life, Taeyong?”

“If only I would know, hm?” When had you ever encountered him being so blunt, so raw and so earnest? “Perhaps, I want to change jobs. Perhaps, I want to join a band. Perhaps, I want to travel to Italy. Perhaps, I want to work at a pet shop, because I love animals so much. I just don’t know.”

This time, it was you who laughed and he joined with that high-pitched tone again. You couldn’t imagine Taeyong working in a pet shop, cleaning hamster cages and playing with dogs. On the other hand, when you imagined a grumpy Taeyong surrounded by playful kittens who were crawling all over him, you had a vivid picture in your mind that brought a heartfelt smile forward within you.

“What about you?” he directed the question back.

“Me?” You pondered over it for a while as you had never been asked this. “I don’t know. I seriously don’t know. I only know that I don’t want to continue living this life anymore. I feel like… I’m in a cage, and if I imagine that every day I have to live like this, it’s suffocating me.”

“It’s okay to not have your whole life mapped out anymore, to not know what you want, what the next day will bring. Nobody expects it from you. Just take one day at a time, baby steps.”

“Jaehyun does. And my parents as well as yours.”

“Then you have to start living your life for yourself, not for others.”

Taeyong then started the car, and for the first time you got the impression that the rain was slowly simmering out and it got brighter outside. Your heart didn’t feel as heavy anymore.

“At home, you’re gonna change clothes again. And then we’re going to order food.”

“Wait… please drop me off at my… home first.” Taeyong didn’t let it slip, but from the corner of your eyes, you witnessed his brow raise. “I learned many things from our conversation. Among all things, the most important lesson was to be honest, to yourself and to others. I need to meet Jaehyun.”

“I second that.”

“Perhaps, this one is going to be more painful than what I did this morning.”

Taeyong swerved the curve and dropped nearly absent-mindedly, “I think canceling the wedding was not only the most painful and selfish thing that you have done. I also think it was the most courageous and liberating thing that you have done. Just like this one will be. Think about it.”

You took it as the compliment it was.

_____

Time of the wedding

“You want me to come with you?”

You shook your head. “I already am indebted to you so much for letting me stay a few more days. I’m just gonna pick up a few clothes and wait. I already wrote to him.”

“Alright. I’ll wait in the car.” You had your fingers closed around the handle already. “And please quickly change clothes, you’ll catch a cold.”

“I will.”

It was odd coming back to your own home when you knew your entire life was about to change as opposed to this morning when you had left and still believed you would come back as a married woman. Now, you didn’t even know who you were and where your home was. But it was certainly not here, you sensed it clearly.

Everything felt foreign and off, and as you let your eyes wander over the cream colored furniture and the walls in the same boring colors, you knew exactly why this didn’t feel like your home anymore. It was and had always been Jaehyun’s home solely.

Jaehyun had picked the district, the apartment, the colors, the furniture. Everything was so clean and neat, almost sterile, there were no personal touches to the interior, the only picture being one of you two set on a small dresser with a few candles and books of yours that you had been allowed to display, everything else was designer, getting taken care of by a cleaning lady that came twice a week. 

You wished back the chaotic cleanliness of Taeyong’s home, the noises of the aquarium, the different furniture, colors and patterns thrown together, and where every corner had his personal handwriting all over it. As well as the faint scent of lemongrass and ginger lingering in the air.

Suddenly, it felt like the monotonous cream colored walls were slowly drawing closer to you, leaving you little to no time until they would crush you entirely. Despite the minimalist style, you felt the invisible narrowness of the atmosphere, and if you didn’t hurry up, it would swallow you whole. But you had to remain here to cleanly put an end to your ten year long relationship.

You fled into the bedroom that was a bit more playful with light blue walls where you shook off Taeyong’s clothes and slipped into your own ones, a pair of leggings and a tight top over which you threw an oversized cardigan. In a mid-sized backpack, you stuffed in a few shirts, pants, underwear and your toiletries. You crammed Taeyong’s borrowed wet clothes into a plastic bag that you wanted to put into the backpack too, but dropped it immediately back on the bed when you heard the entry door open.

With your backpack over your shoulder, you slowly stepped back into the living room. Your heart was almost jumping out of your chest as you moved, but when Jaehyun rounded around the corner, his appearance set an end to the steady rhythm. The whole world went still, absorbing every motion, every sound except for the ones your voices were going to make.

Nobody prepared you for a breakup when you were the one to initiate it. There was no right way, there were only inappropriate ones, one of them including limiting the act to text messages only. If any of this hadn't happened, you would run into each other’s arms, hugging and probably even kissing. But now, you only stood in front of each other and stared at the other in silence.

Jaehyun was distressed and tired, but like always, he didn’t want to let it show. You knew him so well though, you looked right through his facade. “Where are you going?”

An eligible question that you didn’t want to answer in all honesty. “To my best friend’s house.”

“Okay.” He sucked in a rush of air. “You need anything else?”

You shook your head. “I got everything I need.”

This entire conversation was bizarre. Somehow, you had hoped for more, but somehow, you were thankful that there wasn’t more that he demanded from you. Perhaps, everything had already been said between you two. Perhaps, nothing had been said, but you both understood:

That you weren’t made and good for each other anymore. That you two deserved other people by your side and that you had only been together because it had been conventional and what your parents had expected from you. That it wouldn’t have worked out in the long run if you two had married despite all that.

“I’m sorry, Jaehyun.”

He smiled mildly, but probably only due to exhaustion. “Don’t be.”

As you had spoken those words out and listened to Jaehyun’s answer, you wondered if you actually were sorry. In fact, you didn’t feel anything at this moment.

“We both saw it coming, Jaehyun,” you tried to approach the situation. “We’ve been together since high school. We went to university and more school, and we didn’t have time to focus on dating anyone else. We stayed together because… we didn’t really see a reason why not. We were comfortable, we were happy enough. And things have been fine between us.”

He responded, “If you hadn’t canceled the wedding, if you had stood there today, saying ‘I do’, even with these sad eyes of yours, I would have accepted that with my entire heart. I would have gone on, pretending everything was okay as long as we could pretend to be happy as well. But I haven’t been for a long time already as well.” He paused, then confessed, “I’ve met someone else.”

“I see.” The words didn’t hurt you, and you didn’t hold it against him. Again, you felt nothing as he rested his gaze on your face, inspecting your reaction.

“I swear,” he defended himself, “that I never cheated on you. I dodged every conversation with her, I didn’t even look at her longer than I needed. I just… couldn’t do this to you. But just her presence…” He stopped speaking, but you felt what he felt.

Jaehyun was a reputable and respectful man. Of course he would have never cheated on you, you were always certain of that, even now. Whatever he had begun feeling for that woman, he was still keeping it locked inside of him, because he believed you two would work out. And partly also because he didn’t have the courage to end things once and for all. 

The worst thing was that sometimes, you were thinking that if you had met someone who you felt passionate about like him, you would have wanted to leave him earlier. You weren’t nearly as reputable and respectful as Jaehyun. 

“You were still in love with the seventeen year old girl from back then, but I’m not that girl anymore,” you slowly explained, almost too factual with no true emotions. “If you love someone, you marry them, and the rest will fall into place as long as you’re certain that you want to stay together for the rest of your lives. I couldn’t marry you today because I can’t imagine a life with you anymore.”

Jaehyun’s brow twitched and he opened his mouth as though he had so much to retort. But in the end, he gave it all up and said, “You can have this place. I’m just gonna stay at Taeyong’s in the meantime.”

You froze, but kept your composure. “I don’t want it. Your family bought it for us, so it should stay with you. And in all honesty… this place doesn’t feel like my home anymore anyway. Like I said, I’m gonna stay at my best friend’s until I find something for myself.”

Something seemed to bother him, but he didn’t let slip what exactly, and you were thankful he didn’t push the topic. “Okay, do as you wish.”

“I’ll let you know when I’ll come back to get all my belongings. Probably as soon as I’ve settled somewhere.”

Jaehyun nodded.

The straps of your backpack suddenly seemed to leave burn marks on your shoulders. You still felt the urge to continue with this conversation, and Jaehyun gave off the appearance of wanting to do the same, but you both seemingly withdrew as you didn’t know what you were supposed to add anymore.

Perhaps, you would someday have a long session where you poured out all your feelings. Perhaps, you would never talk to each other again. But this conversation ended here and now, at the exact time you were supposed to say “I do” to each other.

In the end, you only brought yourself to wish him well. “I… I hope it will work out for you.”

“I hope so for you as well.”

You raised a brow as his wording seemed off. You had never indicated that you were already meeting someone else. As always, he most likely only wanted to be polite.

As you walked down the hallway with heavy steps, away from the life possibly every woman could dream of, you still didn’t feel anything. No emotions, nothing. Was this the price you had to pay? Would you be numb to feeling anything ever again in your life?

____

Two hours after the wedding

“I’m gonna take a shower real quick as I didn’t have time this morning,” Taeyong announced. “When the delivery guy comes, can you open the door?”

“Sure thing.”

After Taeyong had disappeared in the bathroom, you remained on the couch, scrolling through your phone. It was blowing up, but you didn’t care as your best friend covered for you without asking a single question except for cocking a brow when you had admitted to her where you were currently residing.

“The brother you hate so much?” she had asked. “The one with the blonde hair, excessive taste in fashion, sexy piercings and godly tattoos?”

“Odd description. But yes, him.”

A long pause followed. Then, she giggled. “Keep me updated.” 

You weren’t sure what to make of this sentence. “Thank you for everything.”

“Sure thing! Your parents almost beat a path to my door, but I think I can still hold them back from coming over. Will I get the full story soon?”

“Of course.”

“Okay. And just between us… I think it was the right decision.”

You had then hung up on each other.

Another call from your mother followed, but you swiped this away as well, then decided to turn off your phone entirely. You wouldn’t need it anyway today and hoped that, except for your nagging family, everyone else would understand that you quite weren’t in a position to talk right now.

You heard the water running before turning your attention back to the TV. Shortly later, the food arrived by the door, and you thanked the delivery guy, tipped him, and brought the bag into the kitchen.

“Can we eat in front of the TV?” you yelled, waiting for an answer.

“I’d rather not to!” Taeyong yelled back from the bathroom.

You whispered to yourself while setting the table, “Okay, Mister super clean.”

“I heard that.”

Taeyong stood in front of you the next moment, only a pair of joggers hanging loosely around his waist and a towel draped around his shoulders to catch the droplets of his wet hair. You barely noticed your eyes gazing up and down his naked upper body, and by the time you did, Taeyong had noticed it too.

Before you could read his expression though, you swiftly turned around, hiding your flushed cheeks and brushing it off. “Get dressed, then we can eat.”

Luckily, he also pretended he hadn’t noticed. “Okay.” 

Dinner was eaten in silence after he came back dressed in a t-shirt, Taeyong purposely leaving you in peace after what had occured at your home. He supposedly assumed that you needed time to process your emotions. Except that there were still none.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about what happened back there,” Taeyong then stated after you had nearly finished. “I just want to know whether you’re okay. Are you?”

You chewed on your last bite and then swallowed it all down. “I am. Somehow, strangely, I truly am fine. But I just don’t know whether it’s the shock or whether the emotions haven’t really set in yet that I feel so… numb. I… don’t feel anything. That’s why I’m feeling fine.”

“You’re not feeling fine then,” Taeyong objected. 

“I think it’s better than breaking down crying.”

“If you feel like that, you can do it here too.”

Something so excruciating and raw, you had only done in private. But somehow, you didn’t fear doing it in front of Taeyong either.

“I was in a good relationship with a good man, who wanted to marry and have kids and do all the things you’re supposed to do. People will think I am crazy for ending this all.” You stared at the pattern painted on the bowl in front of you, free from all the rice you had just picked out one by one. “I was always happy enough.”

Taeyong didn’t comment on that. He sat quietly at your opposite and listened.

“Sometimes, I hoped I could have something more than just fine. Someone who made me feel like I hung the moon. But I sort of stopped believing that existed. And I figured why not marry a man like Jaehyun? It had never been on my mind that there could be more. There was a hole in my heart I thought I could fix with doing all the things I missed out on. But it just wouldn’t shrink, no matter what I did. I knew that, if I married Jaehyun, the hole would swallow me whole. And then, Jaehyun told me he met someone else.”

Taeyong’s eyes widened just when you lifted your head and looked at him. He hadn’t known either.

“And now I am certain that there is someone who will place the moon in the sky for me. If Jaehyun can find someone like that, then I can too. I’m certain there is someone out there who can make me feel exactly like that, and it will be the love I’ve been looking for and last for a lifetime.”

“Someone you want to spend the rest of your life with, no matter how different you are, and the rest will fall into place if you have faith,” Taeyong referred to his statement from earlier that day.

You smiled. “Someone of whom I will know that I want to marry right away and not get cold feet.”

Taeyong cleared his throat and arose from his seat. “I’ll do the dishes. After that, I will prepare the bed for you to sleep in. And I accept no objections. For the time you’re here, you will sleep in my bed.”

You knew back talking had little to no effect. “Okay,” you then gave in, quietly thanking him for his generosity. “I can change the sheets myself later too, don’t worry about that.”

____

Four hours after the wedding

The rest of the evening, you spent sitting on the couch, on opposite ends, barely speaking to each other but just vibing. You felt very comfortable.

Taeyong fed his fishes and you asked whether they had names. They had. He had named every single one of them and was able to distinguish between them despite them looking all the same for you. 

You asked about his figurine collection and his eyes suddenly started to sparkle. He went on about them and their backstory as well as the different legos and how long he had taken for each set.

You were astonished to find out that the pictures that hung on the walls had been painted by Taeyong himself. You hadn’t pegged him to be the artsy type, but again, he had surprised you.

There were still so many things about Taeyong you only discovered one by one. 

For example, he was very caring as he brought you a blanket when he noticed how you shivered long after the sun had set. He was also very attentive as he unpacked your bag and put your clothes in a drawer that he had emptied for you. Taeyong was also very funny, knowing or unknowingly, and immensely passionate about the things he loved.

You thought that, if you ever got the chance to be someone else or change your life in the future, you would like to be more like him.

____

Five hours after the wedding

“I can change the sheets myself, don’t worry about that,” you told Taeyong when you felt tired enough to go to bed. Today had been hard on you too, and you couldn’t wait for a new morning to come, the sooner the better.

Stepping into Taeyong’s bedroom made you confront your wedding dress again that still hung exactly where he had put it. When you looked at it, you just felt so much anger - more emotions than on any other point of today. How come that when you put an end to your relationship, you didn’t feel anything, but a gown was able to summon so much hatred?

Quickly slipping out of your clothes, you put the dress back on. It reminded you of how little you had had to say about the wedding. How everyone had chosen the venue, the cake, the decorations, the dress and even the makeup and hairdo for your special day. The dress reminded you of how much of a human doormat you had been at this occasion and that ending your engagement also freed you from the cage you had been kept in.

You suddenly felt powerful, like you could take on the entire world. And it had only little to do with the dress you hated so much.

“Could you find the-”

Taeyong walked in on you standing in the middle of his bedroom in the still soaked wedding dress that he had picked you up in.

“I’ll give you a moment.”

“Wait!” You held him back. “This dress… embodies everything I hate about my former life. I have to break up with it too. I will take the hatred and forge it into something I envy you for, Taeyong.”

He raised his brows. “Which is?”

“Passion.” You smiled. “Will you help me?”

“I’ll get the scissors.”

You stopped him. “I want to do it with my bare hands.”

He snickered. “That’s fine for me too.”

The sound of fabric rustling and tearing filled the room, each one of you picking up one end of the dress’ skirt that consisted of meters and meters of tulle and just tore it all apart, tore on every edge that your fingers could grip on. And there were so, so many, your skin felt bruised when you took another and started ripping that one apart too until the skirt was nothing more than loose slips of fabrics that hung from your waist.

____

Six hours after the wedding

You both laid on Taeyong’s bed, side by side and exhausted from having treated such rich fabric with your bare hands. But he had been sitting with you through all of it, handling the process with just as much fervor and dedication.

“What do you feel?” Taeyong then asked you, staring at the ceiling that was now dipped into the semi-darkness of the night. The rain had stopped entirely, the bright light of the crescent moon that came through the dissolving clouds rendering the need for artificial light almost needless.

The torn gown rustled as you repositioned yourself, letting your naked legs slip through the curtain of strips that had once been the tulle skirt. “Like all steam is let out and there is nothing left anymore. And I’m scared.”

“Of what?”

“Of never being able to feel anything again except for this hate that surfaces every now and then.”

“When you’re alone, that’s when the emotions set in and when it will get really hard.”

“What am I supposed to feel then, Taeyong? Can you tell me as you experienced this before?” You got up and he followed your motions, you both now facing the other from a seating position, your knees almost touching.

Somehow, this moment was very intense for you, and also very raw. You hadn’t shared such a heart-to-heart with anyone in a long time, and the person you did it with again was, out of all people, your ex fiancé’s brother who you apparently had more of an understanding with than the person you had been engaged to. 

“Aside from hatred, perhaps sadness. Because despite you doing the right thing for yourself, you have let go of something that has once meant so much to you, so it’s okay to let yourself mourn for a while. But like I said, i-”

“I don’t feel sad,” you interrupted him, your voice on the brink of despair as you nearly cry-screamed “I just… don’t feel anything else except for hate! Why can’t I feel anything else?! I don’t want this, I don’t want to be full of hate, that’s not me! I need to feel something else! Make me feel something else! Taeyong, I-!”

The next thing you knew, you had a pair of lips pressed against yours and warm palms cupping your heated face. They were a very full and demanding pair of lips, a pair of lips that was not Jaehyun’s, but made your heart flutter in the same way your ex fiancé had once made, many years ago. 

And that was it with your thoughts about Jaehyun for tonight, you swore to yourself as you wrapped your hands around Taeyong’s neck and settled yourself on his lap without breaking the kiss between you two. You weren’t able to remember when someone had last kissed you like this, when you had even thought of getting kissed like this, so passionately and deeply, it felt like you were getting devoured with all your soul.

And finally, after hours of numbness and hatred, you felt something. It was entirely different from what you had expected to feel. Not sadness. It was hunger. And it wanted to be fed.

Taeyong pulled away from you, and despite the semi darkness, you clearly saw in his eyes that he felt exactly what you felt, and that you perhaps were not the only person in this room who was still looking for something or someone greater. 

“I’ll stop if you…”

His hands pressed into your sides, he didn’t ease his grip, but you knew he would do so in an instant when you told him to. But you didn’t. 

“Please…” You looked into his hopeful eyes. “Don’t stop…”

He didn’t need to be told that twice. Taeyong licked over his lips in a way that got you really wet between your legs and pulled you down to him to lock your lips with his again. 

You curled your fingers into the hem of his shirt and stripped it over his head in one swift motion. In the few moments that you were parted, you observed his tattoos in awe. You hadn’t really paid attention to them until now as you had never bothered with such details about him, but now you wanted to touch them all and know the backstory of each of them. But only later you would ask.

You sat up to give Taeyong access to his pants that he took off and then threw on the floor while you simultaneously got rid of your panties and dropped them next to his joggers. You also wanted to wiggle yourself out of your wedding dress with his help, but Taeyong stopped you with a look so sinister, it made you gulp and your mouth dry.

You didn’t need to ask what he wanted. He didn’t want you to take off the dress. If there was a best way to ruin a much hated wedding dress that you hadn’t even chosen yourself, then it was having sex in it with a person who wasn’t the groom.

And you were all on it for it as you straddled Taeyong, the ripped skirt of your dress draped all over the both of you. You rubbed yourself against him with your hands holding onto his shoulders while he placed tender kisses on the side of your neck, and you wondered how someone who was usually so mean to you could be so soft at the same time. Taeyong was still an enigma to you, but you wouldn’t mind taking it all apart tonight.

His full lips reached the raising of your breasts that were still hidden in the corset, but with several deft acts of his strong fingers, he had loosened the back so that he was now able to pull the neckline down. Throwing your head back, you let him lick over your nipples, wetting them with his tongue before he blew over them. It caused you to shudder, but before you were able to process what would happen next, he had already taken the sensitive spots into his mouth, sucking on them in turns and even occasionally biting into one, making you cry out loud.

“Such a pretty voice, why haven’t I heard it so determinedly more often?” Taeyong asked with his head buried in your cleavage.

You didn’t know the answer to that. But he probably also didn’t expect one as you realized the next moment that he had already eased two fingers into you. He was always taking you by surprise.

Your muscles in your thighs tensed, and you lifted yourself up a few inches as you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, that was how heavenly his fingers worked inside of you. You were dripping all over his hand, his palm stroking your clit and thus providing you with the double of stimulation that you had never experienced before.

“You wanna cum?” Taeyong whispered into your ear as you had your head rested on his shoulder, slightly biting into his flesh, and he endured it all.

You nodded, twisting and turning on his lap. “Y… yes, please.”

He made you cum with just the flick of a finger, and you screamed out loud, not only your entire body shaking, but also your whole world as your orgams ripped through you in an intensity you had never encountered before. And Taeyong gently held you in his arms all throughout it. Your chest heaved up and down like you had just run a marathon, and as you looked up, Taeyong swiped a few strands of your hair away from your face.

“You want to continue?” he asked you carefully.

You saw where he came from. He wouldn’t do anything without your consent. But there was nothing to ask for more permission here. You were here for all of it. Muted, you nodded again, too ashamed to speak out what was on your mind, what you really desired that wasn’t far from what Taeyong had thrown at your head only earlier that day. 

You had been so mad at him, because it was true. You wanted him to take you from behind, to have his beautiful, strong hands wrapped around your slim neck and make you cum over and over again.

“Tell me,” he then challenged you as though he knew exactly what occupied your mind. “What is it that you want?”

You gulped. If you spoke it out, then he would do it, no doubt about it. Why was it that you were hesitating still then? 

“Tell me,” Taeyong repeated, his index finger now lifting up your chin so that you could make eye contact. He saw what you felt, and he waited patiently.

“I… I want you to…” You paused. “... To do to me what you have teased about before.”

“Which is…?” He really enjoyed it too much. 

“I want you to… take me from behind. To have your hand around my neck and… make me cum again.”

Because Jaehyun had never done so, because you felt like you betrayed your past love if you did it with Taeyong now, that was why you were still holding back. But then again, you suddenly felt so desired, so free and so alive like never before. You felt heard, seen and appreciated in all aspects a woman could wish for it. Was it so wrong then?

“You’re sure?” Taeyong wanted to know.

“I am.”

He then turned aside to take something from his nightstand that you recognized as the pack of condoms you had seen before. He tore the wrapping off with his teeth and urged you to change your position so that he was able to roll it over his length.

You sucked in a rush of air as you then sank back onto his lap, taking him all in until he was all settled in your warmness. Only a few heartbeats passed before you started to ride him right away, you just couldn’t wait anymore. 

You slammed down on him, at first a bit messy as you couldn’t quite grasp the motions and only forcefully met with him in an attempt to act on your lust all at once, that was how overwhelming it was. But when Taeyong started to move with you, he determined the pace and movements, and rather than making you feel like you did something wrong, he quietly conveyed to you what would work better.

And by heavens, how better it worked. You rocked your hips with each other, and whenever you came down to him, you moaned silently as he hit spots within you you didn’t even know existed at all. You were holding onto Taeyong like a lifeline, moving with him and gyrating with him, and eventually you felt so close to cuming again.

First, you wanted to protest as you wanted to prolong this act and experience it from different positions, but there was nothing to protest against. You would let yourself cum, and if you wished for, this wouldn’t need to be the last time again either. 

“I’m going to-“ you whined against Taeyong’s shoulder, and his grip around you only tightened as you dug your nails into his back.

“Then cum. Cum as often as you want.”

And you did. You cried into the nape of his neck with your fingers buried deep into his arm muscles, and ended the wave of pleasure with a shudder that only Taeyong could set an end to.

But the worst part was that you still weren’t satisfied. You raised your head and faced him, begging him with your eyes. Taeyong didn’t need to be told twice. But before, you shared a kiss that you both initiated at the same time, deep and intimate, and that made you feel a connection you had missed out on all these years and set aflame only now.

You stared at each other with an expression that was a mix of surprise and also relief. Surprise because you hadn’t expected to feel something like that with this other person out of all people, and relief because you had finally found it after all.

Again, you kissed, to make sure, to validate what you had felt shortly before. This time, it was more passionate and romantic, and it made your heart flutter again, a feeling you had been missing out on for a long time despite believing you had found your soulmate already.

Taeyong then flipped the both of you around and placed you with your back onto the bed. Tugging on your dress and pushing the torn skirt apart, he let his fingertips run up your naked thighs, and you let out a low sigh, collecting new energy to prepare for what was about to come.

Bowing down to you, you then kissed again, and again. And truth to be told, you also wouldn’t have minded lying here all night, just kissing him. In the meantime, Taeyong had subtly slipped in between your legs, and you only noticed when he started to move again.

You were able to pay more attention to his face now. Taeyong didn’t look much like his older brother, but was definitely as equally attractive. His features were sharper though, making him come off as rude upon first glance with his additional piercings that adorned each ear if he didn’t smile, and he rarely did that, but they were also unique and attracted attention for how handsome it made him.

Jaehyun was the kind of man you looked at because he was so kind and conventionally handsome, you wanted to get to know him. Taeyong was the kind of man who should scare you off, but you also couldn’t tear your gaze from because of how extravagantly attractive he was. Especially now as he bit into his bottom lip, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He looked so angry and rude, it turned you on even more.

You had never looked closer at Taeyong because of that. But as his hands wrapped around your neck while he thrusted into you, you caught yourself thinking that you wished you would have spared the younger brother another, longer look ten years ago.

“Give me a sign if you need me to stop.”

Your eyes rolled to the ceiling as you started to run short on breath. You hadn’t expected yourself to like this kind of thing, but here you were, having Taeyong’s slender fingers around your neck, slightly choking you, and you found much pleasure in it. What else was there that you enjoyed but weren’t aware of yet? And was one night too short to discover it all?

You inhaled deeply and audibly when he then let go of you, and almost apologetically, he pecked your lips. He didn’t want to go further so as to not hurt you accidentally, you understood. You still had to figure out your boundaries, what you were able to take.

You let out a surprised “Oh!” the next moment when Taeyong slipped out of you and rolled you onto your stomach. A fresh breeze brushed over your naked bum when he flipped over your tulle skirt and it went flying all over your head so that you needed to dig a hole through the fabric to free your face.

Taeyong giggled, but when you wanted to chide him, he slapped your asscheek. It was loud and painful, and it brought you so much pleasure, you wanted him to do that again. And he did. His hand came down on your cheeks in alternation four times, each with a cry from your side louder than the one prior, before he sat you up on all fours and grabbed you by your hips.

You didn’t know what came first, his length sheathed back inside of you or your gasp of surprise as you realized what was about to happen. As you had never had sex in this position before, you had expected to feel disconnected and this act to turn rather animalistic, but Taeyong didn’t make you feel like that at all.

In a steady rhythm, you got pushed forward, his dick drawing out until you painfully thought you would lose him all, just to slam back into you the next moment so forcefully, it nearly knocked the air out of your lungs. And so it continued until you couldn’t hold yourself up on your hands anymore, but sank down on your elbows, offering Taeyong an angle that made it even more intense for you.

You were begging, crying and moaning all simultaneously, not knowing where up and down was anymore. In all those years, you had been satisfied with only what you had considered traditional sex. That there was something more that would take you to heaven and back, you had never imagined yourself to experience.

Now, that hunger from before was only growing, even when you came for the third time that day within the span of only half an hour, so hard and so earth shattering, you thought you would cry because of how you finally felt something else aside from hatred and hunger again: happiness.

You then laid on your stomach, collecting your breathing and your thoughts when Taeyong finished himself off inside you with a little help of rhythmic motions from your hips, and his low growl, with which he announced his peak, turned you horny once more.

And so you did it again. This time from the side. You then went down on him, followed by you doing it from a standing position. Afterwards, he pleasured you with his mouth too, and you finished him off riding it all out. You came again and again, until daybreak announced itself and you slept in, with your head resting on Taeyong’s chest and his arms wrapped around you.

Somewhere along the way, as the night processed, you had gotten rid of the wedding dress entirely. It hadn’t been all about hatred and vengeance anymore, but something way more than that that somehow blossomed between you two.

The next morning, the sun shone bright. There was no sign of rain anymore.

____

Eighteen hours after the wedding

Taeyong stood in the kitchen, frying eggs and wishing you a good morning when you walked in. But when he placed the plate with the scrambled eggs and toast in front of you, you weren’t feeling hungry anymore.

“I’m going to stay with my best friend,” you declared to him. “I gave it a thought, and I think it’s bet-”

“It’s okay,” he chimed in. “You don’t have to explain yourself. I saw it coming, I understand.”

Even though you didn’t regret last night, you knew that you couldn’t do it again yet and that it would certainly happen if you stayed. So you fled. The only thing you were good at.

“I’m a failure,” you admitted. “I’ve failed my relationship, my marriage… why would I even want to try again?”

“If you stay with someone for a certain amount of time and you were happy, but then decide that you don’t want to stay together anymore, why would that make you a failure? If you decide to move on and find happiness with someone or something else, why would anyone want to take this from you?”

“And if it won’t work out with the next person too?” you voiced your fears.

“Then this doesn’t mean you’re a failure either. That’s how life is. You don’t have to stay with one person for the rest of your life if you don’t feel like it. But if you do, if your feelings align and remain steady, what more can you ask of the world?”

A single tear escaped from the corner of your eye and you wiped it away quickly. “But your family hates me now.”

Taeyong shrugged. “Who cares. They’ll eventually come around.”

“I thought you hated me too.”

“I never hated you.” He smiled mildly. “If anything, I hated your attitude, always so honest, fair and good. Secretly, I always wanted to be more like you and Jaehyun. I’ve never been this kind of person, and it’s been clear from the beginning that I wouldn’t fit into this role. You were everything I couldn’t be, everything I couldn’t have.”

“And now?” You looked at him with an uncertain expression, your brows furrowed. “Now that I’m not any of that anymore, do you still want someone like me?”

Taeyong reached out his hand and touched your cheek. “Now, I admire you even more. It takes much courage to tear down your entire life and start anew.” 

“... Really?”

He nodded and you nudged against his palm, sharing his warmth. “I’m not going to be your rebound though. I think what we can build together can be something amazing, but you’re not ready.”

Only yesterday, you had run away from your own wedding and broken up with the man you had been with for the past ten years. You were far from ready. Last night had not only been eye-opening, but also shattering. Your whole world wouldn’t be like before, and you could only rebuild it bit by bit.

“Look for your own apartment, design it the way you want,” Taeyong suggested and withdrew his hand. “Then go out and meet people, date around and see what the world has to offer to you. You have ten years of catching up to do, don’t let a single minute pass.”

You gulped, withholding your tears in the same breath. “Okay.”

“And if you decide to explore what could be between us, if you decide you have seen everything and dated around enough, that, after all, I’m still the only one you want to be with eventually…” He smirked cockily. “... then I’ll be here.”

A life with Taeyong didn’t sound so daunting anymore. But with him came also his family, the family that had been with you before as well.

Quietly, you averted your eyes to the breakfast in front of you. “Last night was also one the bravest and most liberating things I’ve ever done. But-” You stopped.

Taeyong then took the words out of your mouth, “You cleanly ended your relationship before you slept with me. You don’t owe him anything anymore. The rest is between us brothers. Now eat up, then I’ll drive you to your friend.”

The breakfast had long gone cold before you were able to take a bite.

____

One month after the wedding 

You hadn’t been able to light a candle in the apartment, because Jaehyun didn’t like the smell of candles. Funny, how you thought of it now.

The movers carried the last box out of your former shared home with Jaehyun, and now you were facing him again for the first time since the day of your wedding. You had specifically told him a time of which you had thought you would be gone already, but now you had accidentally run into each other again still.

“Hi,” he greeted you.

“Hi,” you said back.

“I’m sorry, I’m a bit early.”

“It’s okay, we’re done now anyway.”

He hung up his jacket and scanned the living room. Everything was still in place as you had only taken your clothes, books, a few kitchen utensils, a chair and nick nacks with you - like the candles. You couldn’t wait. Everything else, you had left for him to keep and would buy new for yourself. 

“You don’t want anything else?” Jaehyun questioned with raised brows. “Just take whatever you want.”

“No, it’s okay, I’ll be fine.” In your hand, you were carrying another small box yourself, in fact, the one with the candles. You had always secretly lit them when Jaehyun had gone out as you didn’t care, and of course he always smelled it when he came back, picking up a quarrel with you. You couldn’t wait to light them whenever, wherever and for how long you wanted now.

“Okay.” He paused. “How is your new flat?”

“It’s very small compared to this place, and also old, but it’s cozy and I love it.”

He smiled. “That’s great. I’m happy for you.”

“What about the girl you met?” you chatted. That wasn’t the ideal topic for a conversation starter, but you didn’t come up with another one at such short notice. Besides, you were really interested in it. “Did you move forward and could finally talk to her? I would be delighted!”

Jaehyun was initially reluctant about his response. But as he finally came clear with you, the truth was so shocking, it nearly pulled the rug from under you. “There was no one I was talking to. I made it all up.”

“... what?” you breathed. You were totally confused.

“If I hadn’t told you about meeting someone else, wouldn’t that have made it harder for you?”

You couldn’t give him an honest answer. It certainly wouldn’t have made it easier, that was clear. “Did you… did you not want to break up?”

His slight smile now turned sorrowful and insincere, your heart ached badly. “I would have tried over and over again. Anything that would make you happy as your love life should bring you happiness. But if ours hasn’t brought you this happiness anymore, if you tried hard too and didn’t feel it anymore, then what more can I ask of you?”

“Jaehyun…” Your vision got blurry from the tears that now gathered above the rim of your eyes. “You should have told me.”

“And what then? Lock you up in this relationship you hadn’t been so happy in for so long anymore? The best was just to let you go, even if it meant driving you into the arms of my brother.”

Your breath caught. “I-... It’s… it’s not-”

“You don’t have to explain yourself, I’ve known long before Taeyong confessed to me that you stayed with him that day… and night. I’ve seen his car parked in front of the house before I even got upstairs to look for you. And…” It was hard for him to talk about it all, that was pretty clear. 

You didn’t dare to ask, but you were certain that by that moment, Jaehyun had still been full of hope that everything would work out fine. Until the moment he had spotted Taeyong’s car and figured it out all by himself. 

He continued with a cracky voice, “You smelled just like him that day. I met that familiar scent the moment I walked in. Lemongrass and ginger. He never changed his shower gel ever since school.” 

You had showered at Taeyong’s place that morning and used this exact shower gel. If you were able to smell it on Taeyong, then why wouldn’t anyone else be able to smell it on you too? You had been so naive.

And then, you nearly let out an audible gasp as it suddenly crossed your mind that you had also never taken Taeyong’s wet clothes with you when you had left this apartment that day, so Jaehyun had seen them too. But he didn’t mention them which made it even more painful for you. 

If he also knew that you had slept with each other that night, you didn’t dare to ask. Perhaps, you also didn’t need to at all. You saw it all in his eyes, that he knew how you felt, truth or no truth.

“The funny thing is that always, I have thought that you two had a mutual understanding I couldn’t quite grasp despite never talking to each other.”

“We’re… we’re not in any kind of relationship,” you tried to save the situation. “I haven’t had contact with him since that day. I was only seeking shelter with the one person of whom I was certain wouldn’t blow me off, because...”

“... because he understood you,” Jaehyun ended your sentence. “See?”

“Jaehyun…” The tears now streamed down your face. Taeyong was right. After numbness and hatred came sadness. Your heart was filled with sorrow. “I’m so sorry for everything that happened. That I haven’t always been honest, fair and good. That I failed our relationship, and that I failed you.”

“Don’t be.” Under normal circumstances, you would have wanted to be held by him and he would have provided you with that. But now you only stood awkwardly in front of each other. “You tried, right? All that matters is that you tried. If you can assure me that, then I have nothing to regret, because, on my end, I tried hard, every single day.”

“I did,” you blurted directly. “I woke up every single day, trying and full of hope. Until I just couldn’t anymore.”

“Okay.” Jaehyun nodded. “Then I can live with it.”

“Please be mad at me all you want, hate me all you want,” you begged him. “Just don’t project this all on Taeyong, please.”

His shoulders shook, you just couldn’t tell whether it was because he started crying too or because he started laughing over the absurdity of your request. “Even now, you think of him. Shouldn’t that tell you something?”

It certainly did. 

But as Taeyong himself had said, you weren’t ready yet. At least not for him.

____

One year after the wedding

Your wedding dress was in the color of ivory, classically cut with straps and falling over your hips in an a-line, ending right above your knees - just like the wedding dress you had always dreamed of wearing on your special day, and this one you had selected entirely yourself. In your hands, the bouquet of flowers smelled lovely, the arrangement consisting of peonies and baby’s breath. No other bride in the registry office had brought flowers, but you had insisted on it.

“I do.”

You locked eyes with your groom who had just spoken out these words.

You hadn’t invited anyone in your family to attend the quick, official ceremony. In fact, you hadn’t even told them that you were getting married today in case anyone wanted to meddle again and make the entire wedding about them. This was only for you two, about you two, and this was how you wanted it. You didn’t need to make a show out of your love anymore. If only you two knew about it, then it was enough for you.

It was odd, and you chuckled to yourself as this silly thought crossed your mind just now as the registrar read from his book. It was odd how Taeyong didn’t like the smell of candles either. With time, you had figured that he wasn’t so different from his brother like he had always claimed.

But there was one thing that made the difference for you: If Taeyong didn’t like the smell of candles, you wouldn’t light them, not even when he was away. You wouldn’t light them at all, because keeping him happy was more important to you than the goddamn candles. You weren’t handcuffed to him, you only wanted to be with him rather than lighting the candles. 

You could live without the candles, but you couldn’t live without Taeyong. If he was gone, the candles would only be a silver lining.

In the following months after you had run away from your wedding, you had seen another country, went partying in the coolest clubs and were able to furnish the new apartment according to your own taste. You had also dated around, meeting different men and trying to bond with them while parallelly rebuilding your life. It hadn’t been easy, but it also hadn’t been overly hard. It had been challenging to say the least. You hadn’t kept in touch with Jaehyun or Taeyong for all these months, following the latter’s suggestion and just living your life like never before.

But after half a year, you had started to realize that this wasn’t the kind of life for you. You had tried, and you had failed. And if you decided to move on with something or someone else, what more could the world ask of you?

Taeyong had picked up his phone on an early spring day, his voice filled with happiness. “I’ve been waiting for you,” were the first words he had directed at you, and it almost made your heart burst.

Gradually getting to know each other turned out to be more of a task than a walk in the park as not everything could be reduced to great sex. You were still very different people as there were certain aspects of your character you couldn’t shake off and Taeyong refused to change about himself too. But you came to terms with everything that made your daily life hard. And in the end, you still wanted to be with each other.

All that mattered in this life was that you tried. All that mattered was that you opened your heart, gave everything you had, and tried. And when Taeyong had suggested marriage a few months into your relationship, you didn’t hesitate. You had jumped into his arms, saying “yes” more times than you were able to count.

“If you love a person, you just marry them.”

Was it really as simple as that? Certainly. 

You had been certain at the moment he proposed, and you were even certain now, when you stood in front of your groom with many other couples waiting outside, who were as certain as you to take this step.

Of course you had often asked yourself what if you would fail this relationship, this entire marriage, too. But as you looked into Taeyong’s clear and sincere eyes while he smiled at you so lovingly, awaiting your answer as the registrar had finished, you weren’t worried about anything in the entire world anymore.

“I do,” you assured him of and sealed your wedding vows with a chaste kiss.

You only wanted to spend the rest of your life with him. 

You didn’t ask more of the world.

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