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nctsworld · a day ago
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3. TURN BACK TIME (2020) [55.4%]
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caiuscassiuss · 2 years ago
sasaeng | l. taeyong (m)
DESCRIPTION: Someone’s obsessed, but it’s not who you think… In which an idol is completely, utterly, disgustingly obsessed with you.
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Genre: stalker/ sasaeng + idol au angst | “romance” | psychological thriller WC: 15k Warnings: graphic smut (humping, masturbation, fingering, cum shot/creampie, preg kink), unhealthy obsession, drug addiction, graphic violence (depicted beating, poisoning), slight coercion
(⚠️Warning⚠️: This ain’t your regular idol au. There is drug addiction, body issues, unhealthy obsession, and whole lot of dark stuff, and that, if it triggers you in any way, DON’T READ THE BOOK. Also, the author does not condone ANY unhealthy behavior in this book in any way, shape or form. I AM NOT romanticizing stalking and obsession; I wanted to write this to explore a unique dynamic and twist to the Idol AU. This behavior is unhealthy and not normal, and please, seek help if this were to ever happen. Apologies if I have written any behavior unrealistically. ⚠️)
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A gentle humming fills the bathroom as the shower is turned on. A female enters the shower, naked, and precedes to cleanse her body of the troubles and worries of the day.
Yet, the eye at the keyhole isn’t noticed. In fact, it will never be… if he has his way.
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Shocked gasps come over the studio as, for the first time in history, two idol groups tied for 1st place on a Music Show. Every vote, every score was match for match. While celebratory confetti cannons and music blared pathetically in the background, the audience, the staff, the crew came to a standstill while the idols stood, frozen, on stage.
What were they supposed to do? There was only one trophy after all. Were they supposed to cheer? Boo? Scream?
The in-ear on Ong Seongwoo blared to life as the producer came to his senses.
“Quick! Congratulate both groups, I’ll just— fuck— how did we not see this coming—”
Seongwoo pasted a smile to his face and reanimated his lively and cheerful self. “Well, that’s was unexpected, but, congratulations to both NCT U and FEM for winning 1st place on this week’s broadcast of Music Core!”
Gradual clapping and cheers came from the crowd, which rose even louder as a crew member rushed onto stage carrying 2 trophies. The idols on stage slowly began to move, whispering and gossiping amongst themselves at this unexpected development.
The groups in question themselves were smiling but shooting confused and worried glances at each other. Was this supposed to happen? 
The crew member hurriedly passed one trophy into the slender fingers of Lee Taeyong, the leader of NCT U, and the other into the arms of Sunmi, the leader of FEM. They both regained posture and, while avoiding looking at each other, bowed. The other groups left in a flurry of confetti and streamers, while NCT and FEM stayed on stage.
Seongwoo furrowed his brows as he listened intently into his in-ear. He nodded, turned, then smiled broadly at the audience, not a single piece of his hair out of place of his signature comma hair style.
“We will be playing the winners’ songs in no certain order, thank you everyone!”
3 taps of a drumstick signaled the vocal-heavy and flowery track of FEM’s 2nd EP, “Halo”. NCT U politely took a step back as FEM flounced onto the middle, dazzling in the sparkling lights.
As lead vocalist Sunmi began to start her first line, her voice began to crack and tears were bubbling at the edge of her periphery. She choked out a tearful “sorry” and buried her face into the slim shoulders of your fellow member, Bolin, the main dancer. Both clung together like glue, clasping each other for comfort as the monumental accomplishment swept over them like a tidal wave.
Our 1st win, you thought, smiling slightly and wiping the tears off the edge of your vision. Our 1st win since our debut a year ago.
You were tapped on the shoulder and turned to see FEM’s main rapper, Bella, smirking and shoving the mic at you. You quickly realized that Sunmi was belting out the pre-chorus, and you got ready to sing the difficult chorus.
Lee Taeyong stood to the side, full of mixed emotions. Was it anger? Jealousy? Indignancy? His light blond hair hung around the the bony structure of his face, highlighting his slight gauntness. He stared at FEM, not knowing what to feel until he saw her.
It was some damned drug trip, wasn’t it? Because there was no way the spotlight rested solely on her, as sobs came out of her pretty pink lips while she laughed in joy. Her silky dress flowed around her like it was upheld by a heavenly wind, in tune with the concept her company presented her as.
A goddess.
A goddess of heaven and earth.
Taeyong could only stare like he was a starved man, drinking in the sight like seeing an oasis in the middle of a dry, dry desert. His tinted lips hung open as his gaze remained solely on the vision she presented.
The longer he saw, the more he saw her. A goddess in group of harpies, yet, so insecure and hurt. Was this what it felt like when Pygmalion laid eyes on Galatea? The way Hades saw Persephone?
His heart stuttered in his chest and he felt like he couldn’t breath.
A goddess for him and himself.
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1 Year Ago
“I’ll lead you, I’m the boss! I move you, I’m the player!” The heavy bass and domineering synths echoed throughout the gymnasium, thousands of green light sticks moving in unison to the catchy beat. It was quite a sight to see 60,000 plus green sticks fill the gigantic Seoul Olympic Stadium in the night in expansive 360 degree seating.
A chorus of male, synth voices harmonized together for the outro, the group of seven in a triangle formation broadcasted on gigantic screens. The crowd let out thunderous roar, shouting the fan-chants in order.
“Taeyong! Doyoung!”
The 7 men in tailored army suits, silver chains glinting as they swung around from the sheer force the men were putting into their movements. The managing crew of the concert watched the men through their many screens, communicating through headsets.
“On the count of three, release the stage door, alright?”
“Jaehyun! WinWin!”
The flashing lights of the monitor played over the director’s passive face.
“Jungwoo! Lucas! Markeu!”
The crew member reached out the arm to turn his monitor closer. His sleeve brushed against the control board, brushing against a certain switch.
The lead figure, glaringly obvious with his blood red hair in the middle of the formation, suddenly disappeared from screen. From the tops of the stands, the audience could see the large gaping hole slightly off to the left of the stage.
Murmurs and gasps filled the stadium as the 6 remaining figures broke formation to swarm around the gaping hole. Mark, WinWin, and Doyoung  knelt down near the hole while Jaehyun and Jungwoo looked down at the stage sidelines, visibly panicking on the billboard screens. Lucas frowned as he pulled his in-ear closer, his full lips pursed while listening to the crew’s directions.
2 staff members in “NEO CULTURE TECH: LUCID DREAM” t-shirts climbed up to the stage from the bottom ground, guiding the anxious members off the stage.
Cries and shouts arose from the worried crowd. All lights shut off, and the clamors gradually grew louder and louder until the overhead speaker blared to life.
“Everyone, we are sorry for the inconvenience.”
Under the jungle of metal bars and concrete, the red-haired man groaned in pain. His leg was twisted awkwardly, having caught on a metal bar his high fall down. Through his tears, he looked a few feet up to see Mark’s and WinWin’s worried faces peering down at him.
“Due to the early releasing of the stage platforms, Lee Taeyong fell through the hole and we are currently awaiting his status.”
A swarm of team members maneuvered through the concrete structures, crouching around his figure. The remaining NCT members, bar the BOSS members from the stage, ran to his position, and peeked from behind the crew.
“Taeyong-hyung!” Chenle’s high voice shouted, his face the pallor of white as anxiety ran through all members present. Johnny and Jeno clutched onto him tightly, their mouths parted in shock and fear for the pillar of NCT.
A young woman looked up at the rest of the crew, her eyes wide.
“Quick, get an ambulance! He’s broken his leg and I can see blood!”
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“Lee Taeyong, leader of top boy group NCT, injured at Seoul Concert!”
“World Group NCT, leader Lee Taeyong breaks his leg at concert!”
“NCT leader Lee Taeyong hospitalized after serious accident at Seoul concert!”
“NCT Taeyong rushed to ER for a broken leg after stage accident at concert!”
“Global Boy Group NCT: leader Lee Taeyong taken off roster for first leg of NCT world tour due to an accident at kick-off concert!”
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You opened your eyes, hearing the air conditioning and the warm lights of your dorm room. You could hear the hum of the television screen from the living room and the smell of bulgogi from the kitchen.
You yawned, stretching your arms and padded off to the kitchen, wrapping a furry robe around yourself. You saw through your bleary vision your group’s leader and proclaimed “omma” Sunmi stirring something on the oven, her curvy figure in a tank top and leggings. Sulhee and Boram were recumbent on the couch, their hair up in towels as they chatted casually.
“Good morning, everyone,” you smiled tiredly. It had been a late night practicing.
“Y/N.” Sunmi smiled at you.
“Unni!” Bella and Lin cheered, rising from their places on the couch.
You grinned at their boundless energy. Bella and Bolin were the same age, younger than you and Sunmi. You called them your “happy little flowers” and their room “the flower garden”, which they always laughed at.
“Hi, my lovely juniors. How are you~?” you giggled, taking a seat at the breakfast table.
“We have a break day today! Isn’t that great?” Bella wriggled into the seat adjacent from you while smiling wildly.
“We’re totally free Yeday!” Bolin cheered in her accented Korean, a bit of her native Chinese slipping through.
“Today, not “yeday”, Bolin. Good job though, you’re improving very well,” Sunmi’s calm voice entered your conversation. “Also, we’re not totally free. We just get to spend the day in the dorm.”
“Why do you have to ruin my thunder?” Bella whined, pouting her lips and her infamous “aegyo” face that many a show host melted for.
“That’s reality, sweetie,” you smiled at Bella.
The four of you chatted over the table, drinking tea and coffee as the noon sun began to peak through the floor-to-ceiling windows of your dorm. You all began to gradually migrate to the couch area, your group’s favorite place to hang-out and chat when resting.
“Wah, look at them!”
At Bella’s shout, you craned your head to look at the television monitor and saw the rerun of Music Bank flashing on screen. This part, however, displayed the famous NCT U members dancing to their latest hit song.
At the lead of the dance was a handsome man in light blond hair.
Lee Taeyong.
This was his first time performing on stage in a year, and he looked like he came back better than ever. He looked so fierce, his sharp features dominating everyone’s attention including yours. His moves were so sharp and clean that you couldn’t help but be mesmerized.
You vaguely remembered the news when he first broke his leg at the concert a year ago. Back then, you felt a huge amount of pity but also a huge amount of annoyance, as his injury caused a media frenzy that overshadowed your debut. NCT had been on top of the world then. The SM group broke records in Japan, China, and Korea and had been reaching into the European and South American markets successfully due to a flood of show appearances and concerts. While you never thought the whole world-domination thing would work, NCT seemed like they were well on their way to make it happen. 
They still were on top of the world. NCT was now a household name all around the globe, but they had lost their shining star for a good while.
“NCT Taeyong? Yeah, he may be handsome and all, I just… have a bad feeling about him. Not an auspicious guy,” Sunmi murmured, looking suspiciously at the screen.
Bolin snorted. “You sound like my grandma who lives in the province. “Oh, you have such a lucky nose Bolin-ah!”” she mimicked her grandmother, hunching over for the effect.
Bella and you burst into laughter, almost knocking over your drinks in the process.
Still, you couldn’t get his face out of your mind. Watching, staring, boring…
…into your soul.
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Taeyong stumbled into the bathroom at 3 AM, shaking greatly and noisily opened the bathroom cabinet. He slammed the orange bottle onto the sink top and the sound of rattling pills filled the bathroom.
Pain Killer Medication
Prescribed for LEE TAEYONG
Well, it’s his third today.
Taeyong knocked back the pill with a glass of water, sitting on the ground with his head in hands until the shaking went away. Grimacing, he slowly got up on weak legs, supporting himself on the sink as he stared into his reflection.
The unnatural sharpness. The gaunt hollows of his cheeks. The deep dark circles. The blood-shot eyes.
The face of handsome, living death stared back at him in the mirror. He couldn’t even remember how he looked like a year ago, when he was fresh-faced and healthy.
Ever since the accident happened.
Since that day, everything was ruined. His fans, NCTzens, his favorite people in the world and the people keeping him going— he couldn’t even see them because of the damned injury. He couldn’t perform, couldn’t sing, couldn’t dance— all he could do was sit in his parent’s house, watching the videos of his members enjoying life while he hoped and prayed this injury wouldn’t put him out of commission for life.
Even when he could perform with them on the last leg of the tour, he was on a chair. Helpless. Unable to perform. Invalid.
The pain medication the doctor prescribed helped. It shut away his pain, physical and mental, and let him feel alive again. He felt like he was performing, singing, and fucking just in one pill. Slowly, his dosage decreased and he felt helpless, resorting to lying about his pain to the doctor to get those fucking pills.
And it turned him into this. A reflection of what he had been in the past. Fuck, how had it gotten this far? He hadn’t even looked this gaunt and pale during Boss and Baby Don’t Stop. He couldn’t even face his members without them looking at him like he was to be pitied. Like an injured animal, they had to take care of him instead of him taking care of them.
He padded quietly down the hall, trying not to wake any of the tired, sleeping members from yesterday’s music show. He creaked open the door to his and Johnny’s room, sighing quietly in relief as he realized Johnny was fast asleep and snoring. The only sounds heard was the puffs of the air humidifier in the room and the regular sounds of urban life.
Settling onto his bed, reaching for his handphone. The artificial light lit up the room before he hurriedly turned it down until it only cast a slight glow on his face.
Taeyong scrolled through the hundreds of pictures he had saved of you, whether it be from performances to press releases and more. It was like he didn’t feel the burning and incessant call of the pills in a tiny orange bottle whenever he focused on solely you, lost in your smile and in your eyes. He smiled softly at your simple pre-debut photos, and smirked when he saw the HD fan photos of you from your latest concert. God, you looked like an ethereal dream from his high. A goddess descending from the heavens. His Helen to his Paris.
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“You need to lose weight, seriously. At this rate, you’ll be obese in a few months!”
You gaze turned downwards at the scolding voice of your manager, whom had been staring back at your reflection in the waiting room mirror.
“Yes, Mrs. Kim,” you sighed.
“I saw you stand next to Twice’s Tzuyu at the Hallyu Wave Concert and you looked like a short, fat, rat next to her! Do you know how embarrassing that is? To the company? To the members? Aish, really, you’re so plump I can barely look at you!”
You bit your lip and tried not to let tears leak out your eyes. You knew that if she were able to see your tears, she would yell at you for ruining the makeup on your face. God, why did she have to be so mean to you? 
This was not even the tip of the iceberg. Much more degrading insults have been spit out her mouth when she was first assigned your manager. She has ripped into every single fibre of your being, degrading your looks, your singing, your dancing. “Are you even worth being the main vocal? The trash collectors sing better than you!” to “Fuck, you’re so dumb. Dumber than those retarded kids.” She was… horrible, to describe in one word.
Mrs. Kim was an idol from the nineties, and was picked as your rookie group’s manager solely on her experience in the entertainment industry. Even staring at her while she was making some calls, you could see the faint shadows of beauty to her aging face.
You slowly slipped out of the room, trying to get away from red-faced and ranting Mrs. Kim. You finally did, and when she saw you escape, Mrs. Kim yelled after you even louder but was unable to chase after since you were already in the hallway. She didn’t make want to make a scene, afterall.
Shivering in the cold of the hallway, you rubbed your arms up and down and cursed your groups’ stylist. Damn her for putting you in a dress with only spaghetti-straps on your bare shoulders. Even though it was summer, South Korea had an obsession with keeping cool and often overran the poor air conditioning unit.
You tottered around in your block heels until you rounded a corner and practically crashed into a warm chest. Toned and muscled arms wrapped around you to keep you from falling down
“Oh, I’m so sorry! Are you alright—”
You tilted your face up to the man’s impressive height, and instantly took a step back.
Shownu from Monsta X.
His sculpted face smiled down at you, a smirking curve to his plump lips.
“Yeah, I am. After running into you, how could I not?” he laughed, the rumble of his chest vibrating against your hand.
Well, at least your were no longer cold now. In fact, you were burning with embarrassment.
Shownu was an idol that you knew everyone in the industry wanted. In bed.
You’ve met love-struck girls on these shows, giggling after him as they passed by in the hallway. It was because of his handsome and manly looking face, a fresh departure from the flower boy visuals every one else had. God, his body was an attraction on its own— a broad, chiseled chest, narrow waist, and muscled legs that went on for longer. It’s been a few years since he debuted, but now, Shonwu was the kind of sex symbol even 2PM had trouble rivaling.
You stepped back even further and gave him a low bow.
“I’m so sorry! Please forgive me, sunbaenim,” you repeated, face burning in embarrassment.
“Nah, sweetie, you don’t have to do that. It hurts to see such a pretty girl bow so low,” he soothed, his face smooth even though there was a tint of mortification.
Probably because he didn’t want to be seen with a rookie girl like you. Ugly, talentless–
“It’s really my fault, I just was jogging without looking where I was going. And uh, sorry but I didn’t catch your name?”
“Oh, um, Y/N. Thank you. Excuse me—” you avoided his piercing eyes and tried to step past him, but, to no avail, he placed his bulky body in your path.
“Hey, do you wanna take a walk with me?” He said casually, like he wasn’t practically leaning over you like a shadow. So suddenly? you thought.
“Um, I really better get going— “ you stuttered, trying to get out of the situation. Shownu was nice and all but you didn’t fancy going alone with one of the biggest sex symbols of the industry.
“Please, I insist.”
Well, that’s how you found yourself wandering around backstage with Monsta X’s Shownu. You could barely stop staring at him in his half-open black shirt, tight, ripped jeans, and pointed shoes.
“So… uh… I heard the shouting,” Shownu mumbled and turned away, scratching his head.
Your brows furrowed in confusion until they relaxed in realization. Shit, if someone found out about this…
“I also heard the, em… insults.”
You cringed and turned away, rubbing your arms in comfort.
“Uh, it’s nothing. I just did something wrong and she just got a little heated with her scolding,” you lied.
Shownu stops in the middle of the hallway, hands on his hips.
“Does she usually do this?” he asked, his voice raising in anger.
You waved your hands in front of you. “N-No, she just was… in a bad mood today,” you winced; even your voice sounded weak in your ears.
Shownu seemed to catch on it too, his hackles rising. His breathing seemed to get heavier as his broad shoulders went up and down harshly.
“Y/N, this isn’t good. You can’t excuse her behavior— look, I know I just met you and it may seem weird that I’m getting kinda angry over this, but it’s disgusting! Especially to someone like you? It’s unforgivable.” He shook his head, his knuckles under fingerless gloves tightening.
“You’re very kind—solicitous, too— but I am perfectly fine,” you said firmly, resolve clear in your face. You couldn’t stir up any trouble whatsoever. You just won your first show award and the hype around your group has increased, but the public wouldn’t hesitate to crucify you for any transgressions, real or not.
He studied your face carefully, as if he were searching for any sign of cracking or weakness.
Finding nothing, Shownu sighed heavily.
“Well, if it ever gets out of hand, I’m here, Y/N,” he relented grimly. He placed a large hand on your shoulder in comfort and you smiled reluctantly, thankful someone has your back.
In the shadows, a blond-haired man watched the bulky man lay his hand upon the small girl’s shoulder, his clenched fists shaking in anger.
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Taeyong darted across the street in the night, dressed in charcoal black to blend in with the shadows. He lifted his black hood over his baseball cap, and tugged his mask tighter over his face. He could not be seen at any cost.
After weaving through the rambling streets of Seoul, he stopped in front of a non-descript apartment complex. He checked his phone and verified this was the right address, before walking to the back of the building.
He had a mission to accomplish.
Taeyong carefully stepped through the trees and clambered up the high stone wall dividing the street from the building’s backyard. He landed with a soft thud and he cringed, hoping the creaking of the wood wouldn’t give him away to the people residing inside this particular unit.
Taeyong saw the soft glow of lights from the floor-to-ceiling windows of FEM’s dormitory and cheered, thanking god that someone was home. He checked the forum for FEM sasaengs, for god’s sake. The calendar said that Sunmi, Bella, and Bolin were out recording for a radio show while you stayed in the dorm to recover your voice, as you had lost it by overusing it a few days ago.
He had planned for this moment days in advance. He had to needle your address from a staff member from your company, and had to ensure that his schedule was clear too.
The red-haired man crept nearer to the glass, peaking hesitantly around the corner. However, when he did, he saw the most beautiful sight in his life.
You were humming as you sat at your vanity, rubbing several creams and lotions on your face. You were still beautiful bare-faced, in Taeyong’s eyes, even more beautiful than made up in makeup and shadows. His eyes hungrily drank in your bared skin as you were just wearing a thin tank-top and underwear.
Finished doing your night-care routine, you got up from the vanity you and Sunmi shared. You grabbed the lotion sitting on your cabinet and proceeded to hoist one leg up on the bed.
Taeyong nearly creamed himself at the sight of your beautiful legs bared to his vision, your core only covered by a frilly underwear piece. You proceeded to pump some lotion onto your hand and rub it down your legs.
The blond-haired spectator fumbled for his phone in his pocket and pressed record, tilting his camera at the perfect angle to record your half-naked figure.
Your hands got closer and closer to the crevice of your thighs and Taeyong rubbed his hardening erection through his jeans. He bit his lip as the tips of your fingers brushed the edges of your panties, and he nearly dropped his phone when he saw the tips of your nipples jutting through your thin t-shirt.
Taeyong followed the line of your body as you stretched and proceeded to dim the lights. Your half-naked figure flopped onto bed then curled up in the sheets. The boy idol ended the recording and walked carefully closer to your side of the window. He grunted softly at his erection nearly bursting out of his jeans, making it uncomfortable to walk.
He snapped a few pictures of you sleeping, your bared backside clad only in frilly underwear. God, he imagined grasping that full ass as you rode him, you covering your mouth so your moans wouldn’t escape and eyes closed in utter rapture.
Was it wrong to dream such lewd things about someone who just turned twenty?
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You were jogging around the Han River extremely early in the morning. Your manager had woken you up from your sleep and forced you to go running, yelling insults at you as you ran out the house.
Biting your lip, you tried not to cry when you remembered the way Mrs. Kim had called you a fat, dumb pig over and over this morning. The members couldn’t even hear her insulting you because it was so early in the morning and no one was awake.
You were on your third mile and already breathing hard. There was an already painful stitch in your side that had developed around the two and a half mile mark and sweat dripped uncomfortably down your back.
You gritted your teeth and kept on running, determined to show Mrs. Kim you weren’t a pig. Nor were you dumb or untalented.
Besides being a devil of a woman, your manager had unfortunately woken you up from one of the most pleasant dreams of your life.
It was filled with vibrant colors and happiness, pleasure and bright lights. The only concrete things you could remember were dark, dark eyes and pink, pretty lips pulled up into a smirk.
You had been feeling antsy these past few days ever since you felt like you were being watched at night. You grew more paranoid, looking out the window frequently and checking your back. Curiously, you also grew restless, as in… unfulfilled. Something in you felt restless while your underwear was always soaked. What was happening? Did adults usually experience this?
So caught up in your thoughts you ran into someone standing by a pier. You gasped a little as you fell flat onto your butt.
You rubbed your head, which was smarting from the impact into someone’s broad shoulders.
“Miss? Are you okay?”
You opened your eyes to see those black eyes from your dreams, hidden behind a white baseball cap. Your eyes were drawn to those pretty pink lips from your dreams, which were bared from his pulled down mask.
“L-Lee Taeyong- sunbaenim?!” you stuttered nervously, curling into yourself. God, you probably looked like a glazed donut with how sweaty and unkept you were.
His eyes widened in surprise. “Y/N-ssi?”
“What are y-you doing here?” you asked, still in shock at his presence. He was the face that brought you all those bright lights and vibrant colors in your dream.
He chuckled slightly, the dark sound rumbling in his chest. He offered a hand, smiling slightly at you.
“Why don’t I help you off the ground first? It seems rather uncomfortable down there.”
Ah, so this was the gentleman people told you that was Taeyong.
You took his proffered hand and he helped lift yourself up. You saw his toned arms quite well, as he was wearing one of his classic sleeveless tank-tops. His veins and muscles bulged slightly with the effort and you decided to focus on that rather than the handsome man’s face.
The pair of you stared at each other in silence, drinking in each other’s features.
Taeyong watched as horror crept over your face until you bowed deeply.
“I’m so sorry! I forgot to greet you, sunbaenim—”
Taeyong grasped your shoulder until he could see your sparkling eyes.
“It’s alright, it’s alright. Just call me Taeyong-ssi, is that okay with you?”
You nodded, your flushed face and gleam of sweat reminding him of something else—
“So, what are you doing out here so early in the morning?” you asked, averting your eyes from his gaze.
“Oh, uh, just walking. I love the morning, y’know?”
Gradually the two of you struck up a conversation while walking next to the Han river. He really was kind and easy-going, which surprised you greatly. You thought he was a cold man, but he got rid of that notion as he made you laugh.
During your walk, Taeyong suddenly hissed in pain and held his leg.
“Taeyong-ssi? Are you alright?” you asked in panic, holding arm unwittingly.
“Y-yeah, I’m fine,” Taeyong grunted out.
“Are you sure?” you questioned, looking at Taeyong holding his leg gingerly.
“Yeah, it just the leg. I don’t know if you know, but I had a stage… accident a year ago. Broke my leg, put me out of commission for our group’s tour. It’s just probably one of the pain echoes my doctor told me would occasionally flare up since I was so active after the injury.”
“Oh my god, that’s horrible! I’m so sorry,” you said, genuinely feeling bad for the handsome idol. You imagined him performing when one of those pain flashes hit, and he had to grit through the pain and perform.
Taeyong smiled at you until he rose up, standing closely beside you as you kept walking.
“Well, enough about me. Was there something specific that brought you out here on such an early morning?”
Your bright smiled dimmed, and Taeyong noticed it immediately.
“Just wanted to exercise, that’s all,” you murmured in a soft voice.
He’s watched you enough in videos to know you were lying, and that made him worried. Taeyong lifted up your chin with his pointer finger until you were forced to look at him directly.
“Hey, hey, is something wrong? You can tell me, you know,” he whispered lowly, looking at you with so much care and compassion in his eyes you almost melted in his hand.
You then remembered the words of your mentors when his thumb started to stroke you lips. “Be careful of those predator idols, alright? There’s many male idols that like to prey on young, rookie idols like you.”
You stepped slightly backward, eyes wide. “Are you one of those predator idols my teacher told me about? Because please, don’t touch me.”
His eyes widened slightly until he burst into laughter. You watched in confusion as he cracked up, holding his waist with how hard he was laughing.
“No, I’m not. I promise. I can tell you some idols from my company that are like that, but I promise you, I’m not.”
You pouted suspiciously at him until he smiled disarmingly at you, and you relented.
A brief silence ensued until Taeyong spoke up. “But seriously Y/N, what’s wrong? You seem… really troubled.”
An inner war raged inside you for a few minutes until you turned to him.
“I’m exercising because I’m fat,” you told him, hugging yourself in comfort.
“Wait, what?” Taeyong exclaimed.
“Yeah. I just… well someone told me I needed to lose some weight so,” you waved your hands helplessly, “here I am.”
Taeyong never felt so furious in his life. Who would dare insult this goddess? Y/N was perfection, she was better than anyone he’s ever known.
“What the hell? Y/N, I can confidently tell you that you are one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever met and I’m from SM, for god’s sake. You are gorgeous, okay? Don’t let anyone ruin that for you,” Taeyong exclaimed, struggling to keep his boiling hot temper in check.
You sighed. “It doesn’t even matter if I’m pretty. I’m kind of dumb too, and I can barely sing.”
Taeyong was one word away from snapping and murdering whoever planted these thoughts in your head. What kind of bullshit was this? Y/N was the kind of person who deserved to be always smiling and laughing, not wallowing in self doubt. His fingers clenched in the pocket of his windbreaker.
“Look, whoever told you this bullshit is lying out of their ass, okay? You are not dumb, and you can sing. I’ve only known you for a little while but I know you are intelligent, even just talking to you for a bit. Plus, you’re the main vocal for a reason. You can outsing most of these female rookies these days. Seriously, fuck the person who told you this crap,” Taeyong seethed.
You saw how angry he looked and warmth filled your being. Was he really this mad on behalf for you?
You touched his arm, and he settled down a bit. You looked at the deep, dark eyes you thought you feared and smiled widely. Taeyong thought you looked beautiful, smiling a real smile unlike the ones you plastered onto your face during those variety shows.
“Thank you... oppa.”
Taeyong never felt so aroused and in awe time at the same in his life.
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Fuck. You had messed up big time.
Your voice had cracked, in the middle of your fucking high note on stage during the live recording. Holy crap, you were in for a world of trouble when you got back to the dressing room.
“Shit, shit, shit,” you mumbled, striding across the hallways.
Shownu, in his manly glory, stood in front of you with his face a mask of utter concern.
“It’s just oppa to you, alright?” he smiled.
Oppa. Even saying that in your mind felt wrong.
“Is it not a bit unprofessional? We hardly know each other,” you asked cautiously, trying not to cross any boundaries. Sometimes, you hated this culture of having to be so respectful to your elders to the point of self-degradation.
His smile fell. “O-Oh, that’s fine. If that’s more comfortable for you.”
You kind of felt guilty at the forlorn expression on his face, but even so, it just felt wrong.
“Well, anyway, you did great on stage,” Shownu offered.
You snorted in disbelief before covering your mouth, horrified at your lack of grace and respect.
“I… was not satisfactory at all. I have to work harder.”
“What’s wrong? I saw you dancing. You and your group did amazing.”
“Sunbaenim, my voice cracked. During my solo part. In the climax.”
He was speechless for a moment, unable to respond to that. Shownu quickly recovered, a disarming smile back in place on his chiseled face.
“I, well, that’s unfortunate. However, you’re just a rookie– you have a lot of time to improve!”
You bit your tongue to stop yourself from arguing him. He debuted once, he knows what it’s like for rookie idols. Even now, the standard is so high for rookies to be perfect in looks, dancing, and singing. It was unreasonable, but the business was harsh; that’s what it was.
“Thank you, sunbaenim.” You bowed to him politely.
He bowed in return and almost turned to leave until it looked like he remembered something.
“Wait, is your manager still doing… you know?”
You bit your lip, desperately trying to find a way out of this.
“Ah! Look at the time. The stylist told me she needs to, um, retouch something! Yeah, so I better get going. Bye!”
You quickly fled before you could see the intrigued expression on the handsome man’s face. Running reluctantly to your group’s dressing room, you hesitantly opened the door and entered.
“Yah, what the hell was that?!”
There she was again, in her full resentful glory. Mrs. Kim.
You sighed, rubbing your temples as you took off your heels. Reaching up to loosen the velvet pussy-bow tie that was suffocating you, you slumped back into a chair while the other members were… what were they doing? Practicing?
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Kim,” you offered weakly, hoping to end this scolding soon because you felt like you were about to fall asleep any minute.
“Sorry? Sorry?! That’s all you can say for yourself for that, that travesty you dishonored the company with on stage?!” Mrs. Kim yelled, slamming the door and getting up in your face. You could see the stress lines in her forehead and the remains of her old beauty, her youthful beauty turned into this old hag.
“I- It was a mistake,” you stuttered, folding your hands in your lap and turning your gaze downwards.
“Your voice fucking cracked on stage— what the fuck? I thought you were our main vocalist for a reason! We should just replace you with a dying pig and no one would notice!”
Mrs. Kim went on to pace angrily throughout the small dressing room, releasing a barrage of insults while throwing things around. She got red-faced and puffy, violent, ranting how you were an utter disgrace and you were a slut who couldn’t even sing.
“ — hope you realize the gravity of your actions today! Why, if I were you—”
“But you’re not,” you whispered, feeling a strange energy in you.
Mrs. Kim paused in her furious pacing, and turned to your folding chair.
“What did you say to me, you pig?!” She hissed, getting all up in your face again.
“Are you deaf? I said, “I said “But you’re not”, Mrs. Kim,” you sullenly glare up at her.
“I’m going to kill you—”
You suddenly push back your chair, the poor folding chair sliding back harshly until it banged into a makeup desk.
“Wake up, Mrs. Kim. You will never be me, nor can you ever be me,” you gritted out, suddenly towering over her until she had to step back.
“You don’t know shit, you’re a failed idol. You had one hit-- a dance hall song!-- and that was it, until your fame and beauty faded out and then you were forgotten in the eyes of the public.”
You crossed your arms as she seemed conflicted, a mixture of rage and anger and wounded pride glimmering hatefully in her beady black eyes.
“How can you even criticize me when you didn’t even sing? Dance well? You couldn’t do anything as a MGirls member, not even perform.”
“Then, when all of it was gone, you asked yourself many times, “why am I working at the gas station? I was an idol”, until you started blaming the world.”
You felt invincible. You saw Taeyong smiling and getting angry on your behalf and his lips and color and vibrancy— it was like something physical inside you snapped and released all your anger on your manager.
“It’s their fault I’m barely making money, it’s their fault I can’t perform well, it’s their fault that I’m not loved or payed attention anymore— until you finally met someone that you could vent your anger out onto: me.”
“But wake the fuck up Mrs. Kim. You can not and never will be what I am. Don’t be jealous that I’m living the life you always wanted,” you spat in her face.
Uncharacteristically, she went silent for a moment. The perpetually deep lines on her face softened and made her look much nicer, much motherly. Mrs. Kim was truly unreadable and you couldn’t tell what she was thinking at all.
The edges of your lips lifted.
Suddenly, pain bloomed in your cheek as your head was slapped to the side. Her slap hurt so badly that the site of impact felt numb and you lifted your hands, rubbing your probably red cheek.
You didn’t have to time to recover as she reared back her fist with an expression of utter rage, her lips pulled up in a ferocious sneer as her beady eyes looked like they wanted to pierce you.
The blow hurt stung the crown of your head and you cried out, but Mrs. Kim quickly wrenched your long hair and pulled. Your mouth opened to scream, but her other fist gripped your jaw so tightly it felt like she wanted to crush it with her manicured hands.
“You bitch,” your irate manager snarled, as she spit in your face.
Her foot delivered a punishing blow to your exposed midriff, and the air was taken out of you as you fell back onto the ground. You tried to curl into a fetal position as she pulled her leg back again and again to hurt you, punish you as her embarrassment and rage against the world culminated in a tiny dressing room backstage of a music broadcast.
The world was spinning as she forced your face to look up at her, while you were lying, wounded, on the ground. In your blurry vision, even you could see the psychotic and deranged smile on her face as she knelt beside you.
“Thank god we’re done recording,” she said, and then the world went black.
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Taeyong was roaming around the halls of backstage, unable to stay in the dressing room with the members awkward and nervous atmosphere. He wasn’t a fucking stranger, for fuck’s sake but they acted like he was a new member in the group. Taeyong gritted his teeth and his jaw went taut as he remembered when they thought he wasn’t looking, they sent him pitying glances and sighs of sadness.
Taeyong inconspicuously grabbed some pills from his bag and burst out the door, unable to handle the stifling environment. He fully intended to take the two white tablets in his hand in some kind of isolated place, but first, had to remember where all the good places were.
He remembered the first time roaming these halls and meeting his sunbaes, incredibly in awe of their confident yet polite demeanors. Now he was the sundae, as groups younger than him and new rookies nearly tripped over themselves to bow and greet him. They looked at him in awe, “Korea’s Visual Treasure” as nicknamed by Vogue, while not looking discreetly at his formerly broken leg to see if he was limping or something like that.
And as always, his thoughts drifted back to Y/N. His smile turned utterly lovesick and infatuated when he thought of seeing you when you were a rookie, in your demure pink tennis skirt and fucking stockings. The ones that ended at mid-thigh and was held up by garters, the ones that every senior boy group jacked off to every night.
He fingered the thin slip of lace in his front pocket, rubbing it between his fingers in tandem with his heeled boots clicking on the ground.
What were they?
Why, they were your panties, of course.
What else would it be? Whose else would it be?
Taeyong lovesick grin was luckily not seen by anyone as they curled up in a delirious edge. They were hard to attain, as was everything related to you was. He had gone through several parties to find your dorm’s housecleaner, a young girl that was easily bribed into taking a pair of panties and some of your tank tops from your drawers. His love for you knew no bounds, nothing as silly as the law and the right to privacy would stop him.
But then, he remembered that guy.
That son of a bitch touching Y/N, looking so concerned when he was basically on top of her. Taeyong saw the intentions in his eyes, the way he undressed you with his mind and the way they roamed over your figure.
He was going to kill him, one day, he swore. Maybe chop off an important part or something so Shownu could never lay a damned finger on your holiness.
His phone buzzed. As he looked at his phone, he realized it was nearing prep time and grimaced. He looked for a door leading downstairs, vaguely recognizing the hallway as the fifth floor. Taeyong opened the door to what he thought was the stairwell, and instead realized it was a storage closet.
The blond-haired man was about to shut the door until he saw the hall lights striking upon something shimmery and he stepped forward to take a better look.
It seemed to be from some kind of fake clothing gem, attacked to the middle of a pussy bow. His eyes followed the shape of the pussy bow to the top, followed the new line of something vaguely human and soft and when he opened the door a tiny bit more to see better, his heart leapt into his throat.
It was you.
Taeyong saw you, the girl of his dreams and nightmares, spread across the dirty tiles of the storage closet like a doll whose strings had been cut. Even in the dark and with red and purple bruises blooming like flowers onto your skin you were still enticing.
His panic gave way to unwanted lust, his addiction to this girl coming back in full force when she was right in front of him like she was delivered there. He bit his lip as genuine care and concern battled the shameless wantonness that arose when he saw the tantalizing peaks of your breasts through the white shirt. Your skirt had splayed haphazardly across your legs, revealing inch by inch the delicious skin leading to your core until his vision was impeded by black safety shorts. Taeyong’s hungry eyes made out the shape of your mound through the spandex and dropped to his knees, so overcome by care and lust that his weak body could barely contain the sensations.
His vision swam until it focused back on you, where the dark lights illuminated your body like a halo. He crawled on his hands and knees, the package between his thighs physically throbbing in need, while he came closer to your prone body.
He raised a tentative hand to touch your glowing skin until his right mind screamed at him to stop, that this was immoral and dishonorable but the pill he took 15 minutes ago egged him on to go on. The hand that had paused in the air resumed its descent onto your body, landing softly onto your knee.
Taeyong held his breath as he softly stroked the skin of your knee, and when you didn’t show any signs of waking up he got braver. His whole palm rested on your played out leg, tracing over the bruises with tenderness. His hand seemed to wander down to his trousers on its own, palming his cock in his cupped hand roughly until he was dry-humping his own hand. He closed his shadowed eyes shamefully, blocking out the shear embarrassment of the situation.
Taeyong heard a small moan of pain then jerked his hands away from his half-stained trousers when he saw your petal lips open slightly.
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The first thing you saw when you opened your eyes was darkness and the silhouette of a person stood against the cracked light of a doorway,
Then you registered the burning pain all over body, mainly on your stomach and back. A pained scream left your lips as you curled deeper into yourself, trying to escape the bone-deep ache of the injuries.
“Shhh, shhh,” the silhouette whispered as the presence settled beside you, a man’s almost painful heat pressing into your skin like a brand.
He started stroking you back and you unconsciously leaned into his heat, wanting his all-consuming warmth to burn away the aches and pains that you body was composed of until you snapped back into reality.
You jerked away suddenly from the man and his touches, backing away frantically until your back painfully banged into a metal shelving unit.
Your mouth opened to scream but it was blocked by a hand, his hand, and it clamped over your mouth so that it muffled your panicked noises.
“Wait, shit, hold on—“
The dingy light of the supply closet flicked on and the cold light threw everything into relief. Your thrashing ceased as you saw those haunting eyes staring right at you, so uncomfortably close you didn’t know how to react.
Taeyong-sunbaenim kneeled in front of you, the gaunt hollows of his face deepened even further by the light of the one light bulb hanging above you.
As he saw you were not protesting anymore, he carefully removed his hand and leaned back, sitting on the floor in front of you.
An awkward silence enveloped both of you until you caught sight of your bruised arms and legs and you yelped, frantically trying to cover the evidence of your weakness from one of the most handsome and captivating individuals you’ve ever met.
The most handsome and captivating individual.
“Hey, hey, no, it’s alright you don’t need to hide it from me,” Taeyong urged, extending his hands as if to help.
Please don’t, he begged silently. Don’t hide yourself from me. Don’t deny me your perfection.
You curled further into you self and buried your face into folded knees, hardly looking at him. You struggled not to burst out in tears, whether it be from the furious beating you received or the embarrassment you did not know, but they still bubbled up.
More silence preceded until he broke it.
“What happened?” he whispered tenaciously.
“…me,” you whispered back.
You heard a small huff of air when a pair of arms wrapped around your trembling body.
“It was that person, huh?”
You bit your lip and nodded into his broad and strong shoulders, feeling tired and drained all the sudden. It was like his touch had sucked away all your anxiousness and worries, just leaving you and him and nothing else.
“Oppa,” you mumbled. You didn’t hear the sharp intake of breath as you continued. “Oppa, she beat me up.”
“Who’s she, baby girl?” he urged, but you still didn’t hear the dangerous edge to his deep voice,
“M-my manager,” you said almost silently.
Somehow, he must have heard you or felt your lips move against his shoulder because he tensed up and his grip on you tightened.
“You’re fucking manager did this? She beat you up? Called you fat? Dumb?”
Even though you didn’t answer as a wave of brutal pain passed over you, he understood.
“I’m going to rip the throat out of that motherfucking whore—“ he hissed as he motioned to get up until your small hands tightened on his shoulders.
“...Please, don’t leave me. Please,” you cried, clinging tightly to him.
Taeyong looked down at your face, knew that you were delusional with pain and probably wanted anyone to hold you, but he couldn’t resist your red eyes and trembling lips…
His shoulders untended and he carefully sat back on the ground, pulling you into his lap. You straddled his lap while you sobbed into his silk stage shirt in total pain.
Totally forgetting his prep and the pills he was supposed to take in his pocket,  all of his intense focus was on you. After this small taste of your gift, he knew he would never be able to live without it again.
He just couldn’t.
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You looked out the window of the private clinic, deep in the neighborhoods of Seoul. IV’s and various cords were hooked up to your arms as you shifted against the cotton material of your hospital dress.
A sigh escaped your lips when you saw the piles of bandages wrapped around your legs, reminding you of an embalmed body from Egypt or South America.
Wonderful thoughts.
The door creaked open as the nurse click-clacked in, a polite smile on her face.
“I’ll be rewrapping the bandages again, is that alright?”
“Y-yes,” you croaked out, immediately reaching out for the glass of water beside you.
Your eyes began to get entranced by the repetitive actions of the nurse as she unwrapped and wrapped, snipped and snapped.
When you turned to look around the room, you could see the nurse out of your periphery looking piteously at your bruises. That summed up most of the reaction of the clinic when you limped in with Taeyong. They quickly and quietly admitted you in, and when finally asking the origin of the injuries, you had lied. You had told them you fell in the gym while Taeyong thrummed in anger beside you and the doctor scribbled in the false information. They even knew for sure that you were beaten up when they examined your wounds, but they pretended not to know and put you to bed.
“There, that’s all better,” she smiled softly.
Just as she was about to walk out the door, she seemed to remember something.
“Oh, also, someone left you a get-well gift. I’ll get it.”
Soon your hands arms were full of a fluffy pink teddy bear, it’s beaded eyes and stitched-on smile beaming dopily up at you. A sky-blue ribbon was wrapped around its neck, and you shifted the bear like it was a baby to read the note attached to it.
“Get better soon, my lovely junior. -Oppa :)”
Your lips parted slightly in shock as you stared at the beautiful present, not believing the larger-than-life Global Idol Lee Taeyong would send you a get better gift. Or let you cry on his shoulder. Or accompany you to the hospital. Wow.
The door to your room opened once again, but it was not the nurse that walked through, but the main doctor.
“Y/N-ssi, it’s nice to see you looking better.”
He sat down in a chair beside your bed and pulled out an important looking binder, emblazoned with words that disappeared too fast for you to read as he opened it.
“Y/N-ssi, I want to talk to you about your injuries.”
You automatically grimaced and your hands clasped your arms, hugging yourself.
“We all know you were physically hit in some kind of fashion.” he continued, maintaining eye contact with you.
“We also wanted to know if you wanted to file a police report.”
“No!” you automatically rejected. First, it was because of the embarrassment, but then it was the fact that you were an idol and you weren’t supposed to get into these kind of situations. Plus, who would believe you anyway?
“Well, alright, if that’s what you think is best for you—”
Suddenly, the door to the room burst open and you spot Sunmi panting.
“Sunmi?” you asked, perplexed. The doctor in front of you could only stare in utter confusion.
“Y/N,” she wheezed. “It’s manager Mrs. Kim.”
“She’s in the ER— injured.”
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“Sunbaenim?” you asked through the phone, voice muffled from crying.
“Y/N? Is everything alright? Also, it’s oppa,” Taeyong urgently replied. As usual, his deep timbre sent shivers down your spine even through a phone line.
“C-can you come here? I’m so sorry, I know that if you can’t, it’s alright, it’s just—” you rambled in embarrassment, ashamed of having to ask for help.
“Y-yeah, it’s alright, I’ll be there soon, okay? Stay put for oppa.”
The line goes dead and you stare out the window of your dorm room blankly. No one was in the dorm right now, all visiting Mrs. Kim in the hospital while the company ordered you on bedrest.
You weren’t exactly rioting.
After dropping the huge bombshell on you, Sunmi tried to get you out of the room but the doctor had refused, stating you had to rest at least a week to go back outside. Sunmi sullenly relented while you hadn’t protested at all from the side.
Bits and pieces of information filtered back to you in your hospital bed. Mrs. Kim was currently in the hospital in a medically-induced coma after she was found 11 stories down from her apartment roof, splayed out on the road. She was barely breathing when the EMT reached her.
The doctors had stated they were unsure if there was foul play involved, since Mrs.Kim had shown an increasingly frayed psyche in the past few months. However, there was evidence she was pushed off the roof since her injuries showed signs of fighting.
You didn’t know what to think.
At this time, you heard the doorbell ring and you jumped up from the bed, almost tripping as you tried to get to the front door. The cold air conditioner breeze brushed your thighs and you were suddenly reminded you were half naked, only clad in a gigantic t-shirt and panties.
A blush rose up on your cheeks as you fumbled to find some shorts. Can you imagine what would’ve happened if you faced the mighty Lee Taeyong clad only in an oversized shirt and tighty-whities?
After pulling on a pair of shorts, you pulled open the door to find the slender figure of Lee Taeyong dominating the entryway. He was sporting just a regular white t-shirt and black skinny jeans, although not without shades and a medical mask. Taeyong looked like every manhwa fantasy school girls had, the picture perfect image of a bad boy on the regular.
You hurriedly pulled him in, looking around the hall to see if there were any nosy neighbors but finding none, you closed the wooden door.
Suddenly, he was too close to you. Your head was close to his chest and you smelled his expensive cologne and something that was just him, something that broke through your willpower and insisted you just stand there and inhale all of him. A small “eep!” escaped your mouth at the unfamiliar distance between you and Taeyong.
“C-come in! Do you want anything to eat? Drink?” you stuttered, guiding him to the living room as he took off his expensive-looking sneakers.
“Nah, I’m alright,” he said, and plopped himself on a couch.
An awkward silence pervaded the area as you looked down in embarrassment and his eyes wandered all over the place. Oh god, he probably spotted the huge pile of dirty dishes in the sink. And the copious amount of junk food you and Bella had scattered on the counter.
“Well, uh, I’m sorry, but—”
“Hey, no, you can tell me everything, okay?” he rebutted, the perfect picture of concern.
You fidgeted again, inwardly hating yourself for being so weak and shy in the presence of Taeyong. He probably thought you were so weak rookie girl who couldn’t deal with shit.
“Well, I don’t know how to tell you anything if you can’t start. Trust me,” he beamed, leaning in closer to you.
So you started. You told him all about what happened (all though he had a glint in his eye when you told him your manager was in a coma) and what you were feeling, the guilt of being ecstatic that the person who helped make your career was now effectively a vegetable.
“Fuck, I don’t know what’s going to happen. The company doesn’t have any staff that could help with this mess, and we’re almost bankrupt for god’s sake, and adding to the fact that we have a new album repackage coming up? I literally have no idea what’s going to happen.”
You rub your temples and bury your face in your hands. Taeyong is pensive for a while until you can feel his weight shifting on the couch, scooting closer to you.
You feel his tentative hand grasp your shoulder and a cool hand grasp your chin.
“Hey, look at me,” he whispers soothingly. His hand moves down from your shoulder to your upper arm, rubbing soothing circles into your arm. “I honestly am no help to you. But, realistically, after looking at your debut, you’re on an upward spiral.”
You didn’t feel his fingers trembling on your skin as you were so enraptured by his eyes, deep dark depths that bored into like a drill.
“– you’ll get those brand deals, the concert invitations, just wait for it, ‘cause I know I did.”
The edges of his lips lifted in a small smirk as his hand trailed from your upper arm to your curled hands, grasping them softly and then with more pressure. Long, slim fingers folded over your own like a vice.
“I’m here, y’know?”
Your heartbeat rapidly as you closed the door to Taeyong, your whole body quaking in nervousness? Fear? Excitement? You had no idea anymore when it came to this man.
His fingers felt like they were still blazing fire over your skin, still leaving goosebumps in its wake. It was like those colors and feelings in that dream but in real life, splayed out in front of you.
You shakily padded back to your room, the cold air-conditioning brushing on your skin in a lacklustre reminder of Taeyong’s touches. You staggered onto your bed, collapsing into it and melting into the sheets.
Faux fur brushed against the side of your face, causing you to sneeze. You came face to face with the rather large teddy bear Taeyong sent you a few days ago, it’s black, beaded eyes staring right into your own as your curled around its stuffed body.
Funny, they looked like Taeyong’s, but had some kind of depth, like a camera lense or something…
You remembered his hands and his lips and his eyes as your hand unwittingly wandered down to your shorts, slipping beneath the waistband and fingering the lace of your panties. A small moan left your lips as your inner thigh nudged your teddy bear.
Everything felt hot as you slipped down your shorts and rolled over onto your belly, lying atop Taeyong’s gift. Your panty-clad hips undulated onto the bear as you hid your heated face into your pillow. It was so embarrassing to do something like this, god, this was so wanton. Who the hell humped their teddy bear?
The teddy bear’s fur tickled your thighs as you ground down more upon it, jolting energy into your whole body and making every hair stand on end. It was like the soft caress of a lover, the brushes of Taeyong’s hand that made you shiver in pleasure and at that the unusual feeling.
Your t-shirt rode up and up until it reached right under your breasts, and the mound of material annoyed you so much you took it off and threw it off to Sunmi’s general side of the room. Your bare breasts were sensitive to the fabrics underneath you, your nipples scraping your sheets over and over until they were erect.
“Oh, fuck,” you whispered, feeling the wet stain on your panties with your fingers.
Still, your hips ground more and more into the bear until your panties were so soaked through they were basically useless and you slipped them down your legs. You were completely naked now and clutching onto your bedsheets for dear life as you thighs clamped down upon the toy.
A delirious cry left your lips as your clit felt the tiny hairs of the fur brush once, twice upon your nether lips. You could only move faster, gritting your teeth at the unexplainable feelings that exploded inside of you. You felt like you were possessed, a slave, to your desire as your fingers slipped themselves inside your sopping wet hole.
You imagined they were Taeyong’s fingers sliding in and out of you while you were curled on his lap. Your face would be buried into his shoulder, involuntary tears slipping out as you ground against his slender appendages. You would feel his broad chest rumble with laughter, clutching you tighter as he thrusted harder and harder into your core.
His thumb would slowly sneak it’s way up to the bundle of nerves hidden under a hood of skin, and when he would suddenly press his thumb on it—
Colors and flashes of light exploded in your tightly-closed eyes, your teeth biting into your lips with force. Your bare body seized in pleasure, contorting in all sorts of ways, unable to handle the pleasure. A flood of liquid left your pussy and it coated your thighs, the fur of the teddy bear clenched in between your legs. Tears leaked out of your eyes in sheer pleasure, and you pitifully ground your hips into the bear to prolong your orgasm.
You could only hear the sound of heavy breathing in your room and you rolled onto your back, staring at the stark-white ceiling above you. A glint from the periphery of your eye caused your head to turn.
Your mouth dropped open at the puddle of glistening liquid coating the teddy bear Taeyong had bought you, staining the fur a dark pink. God, what the hell had you done?
Embarrassment quickly took over you as you cleaned yourself up, putting the bear and your soaked panties in the washing machine. Everything cleaned up, you fell back into bed and turned off the lamp.
As you lied in bed, ready to sleep, one thought occurred to you.
How did Taeyong know your address?
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A few miles away, in an state-of-the-art dance studio, a blond-haired man in a bathroom could only stare in shock at the image of Y/N’s breasts bouncing as she ground back on forth on something. When he got the daily notification of his private camera in the feed named “Baby Girl”, he rushed
However, he didn’t expect this.
This masterpiece of Y/N, her pretty pink lips parted and presumably giving way for moans. Her eyes were shut in pleasure as both of her hands clasped over her mouth, and Taeyong could see the angle of the camera shifting downward as she humped more and more.
He could see the fur of the bear and her core rolling over and over the belly, yet he couldn’t see her true treasure. Flashes of popped up occasionally as she rose up like a tidal wave but only to sink back down into the stuffing of the bear.
Taeyong took a deep breath and flushed down the pills in his back pocket into the toilet, knowing how much of an idiot move this was. You couldn’t go cold-turkey, he knew; you had to go through therapy and rehab and all that kind of crap. But, Taeyong didn’t have time. Idols were discreet and expected to deal with messes alone, so he could deal with the withdrawal period to focus his full attention on this.
Y/N bouncing up and down on his phone screen, in pleasure.
Just for him.
Only for him.
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Shownu yawned as he walked to his apartment’s mail cabinets. Dressed in only sweatpants and a sweatshirt, he hoped no one from the press would see him.
It was relaxing to be alone. So he bought an apartment away from the members, an apartment building filled with the elderly so fans shouldn’t be here. It was his own haven of isolation, his breath of fresh air from the punishing lights of the stage.
He shook his head in disbelief at his silly philosophical thoughts, and pulled out his key.
Inside the box was a fat bunch of mail, him guessing it was probably 75 percent junk mail. As he walked up the stairs, he sorted the various flyers and letters and his guess was right.
Seriously, he didn’t need another ad for plastic surgery.
However, when soon got up to his apartment door, a small letter underneath all that pile of junk remained in his hand.
A simple “셔누” (Shownu) graced the front, but no return address listed. There were no postage stamps or anything.
Suddenly, he felt a bad feeling about this. Shownu was not usually the superstitious kind of guy, but when something as minimal and small as this shows up, it’s never something good.
Was it a sasaeng, an obsessed girl trying to contact him? Trying to get his attention?
God, he hated sasaengs. Did they have no shame? No basic respect for privacy? For god’s sake, he had to break the lease on the apartment he was about to get 3 months ago when a fan found out he was moving, and now he was here.
They were so obsessed with this ideal of him, an idyllic version of someone who he probably wasn’t at all. The girls that followed him on flights, called his number in the wee hours in the morning, the one time someone actually broke into his hotel room in California.
They weren’t in love, they were fucking psychotic. Infatuated with someone who wasn’t him.
Shownu shut the door to his apartment and after throwing all the junk mail into the trashcan, he stretched out on his favorite leather sectional.
The simple white letter with simple black letters stared back at him. Should he at least get this screened or something first?
To hell with it, he was curious.
The first thing that fell out was a newspaper clipping. On the 3rd page of the Korea herald, was a small section announcing the hospitalization of Kim Sohye, a middle-aged woman whom was a popular idol in the nineties. The article went on to detail how she was splayed across the road in blood, having either been pushed or fallen off the roof of her apartment building. Now, she was in a medically-induced coma.
What did this have to do with him?
He was quite annoyed, thinking someone was probably fucking with him, until he saw the last part of the article.
Kim Sohye is the manager of FEM, a rookie girl group who has just gotten their first win. No word has been released from their company on what will happen to the group’s activities.
While he was shocked, Shownu lad a large part of him that yelled “good riddance!” to the woman who had verbally abusing Y/N.
Good for her then, he’d have to find some way to check up on her. Maybe backstage at Music Core?
Another white paper fell out of the envelope, the paper feeling quite slippery to the touch.
I took care of the manager when you couldn’t. I actually did something instead of watching from the sidelines. Anyways, good luck trying to reach Y/N. She isn’t interested in you, you know? My goddess is simply too good for your whoring ways.
With much loathing,
A Fellow Idol
(P.S. By the way, I don’t think you’ll be able to reach her anyway. You should’ve stuck to your gut and got this piece of mail screened. This letter is coated in a poison that goes airborne when the envelope is opened. You won’t be touching Y/N anytime soon. Rot in hell, you son of a bitch.)
Shownu, horrified, belatedly realized the slipperiness of the paper was due to the poison. He was so confused, so filled with fear and that all ended when everything went black.
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Laughter filled the apartment as sunlight streamed through the window.
“D-Did you see that? He- ha!”
“He just— I’m dying!”
You and Taeyong were curled up on the couch, laughing your asses off at the viral facebook post of cute shiba dogs being clumsy. You were stilled wrapped up in your laughter, however, the man’s warmth next to you still made you self-conscious. Taeyong might be a comfortable friend instead of an intimidating senior, but he was still an intimidating man. Pretty-boy looks he was known for, but whenever you were near him, there was a sort of self-assuredness and confidence that cornered you and had you speechless.
Well, not so much nowadays. Taeyong and you were genuinely good friends after the whole debacle. He talked to you, listened to you, gave you advice: even drove you to the hospital to visit your injured manager while standing as emotional support outside the room.
Although, Taeyong was sort of… strange? Perhaps it was just you, since you had never had a close guy friend or any romantic relationship of the sort, but something felt off. The handsome man never really wanted to leave you, not in the lovey-dovey kind of way but in the kind of intrusive fashion that made you late for things. Talking about other men in the presence of him had him incensed and sullen, often blackening his mood and ruining the day for both of you. He also had a weird thing about calling him oppa, always insisting you use the term instead of “sunbaenim” or”-ssi”.
You stroked your teddy bear in thought, hugging it tightly and blushing, remembering the things you had done with the teddy bear. Hugging it tight and close in embarrassment, a hard object pressed into your chest. Hoping Taeyong (who was enraptured by the video on screen) was not looking, you gently felt up the teddy bear.
In your fingers was something hard and square underneath all the fluff and stuffing of the bear’s head. You imperceptibly frowned. Was it a box of some sort? Maybe it was a device that helped it speak?
You watched Taeyong through your eyelashes, his sharp features glinting with the reflected light from the screen. God, he was so handsome.
Momentarily forgetting the box, you felt a deep ache in your heart for Taeyong. He was too kind, too gentle and caring for you not to fall deeply for. Stupid, inane, ridiculous— this infatuation was all sorts of stupid for so many reasons.
You were barely 20, he was already 25.
You just debuted, a rookie; he. an established senior.
You an idol from a small company; he, from a behemoth.
You, a girl who would get attacked for whatever she did; he, a beneficiary of a double standard.
But the heart wants what it wants.
You felt tears inadvertently well up in your eyes as you finally feel the hopelessness of the situation. Turning away so Taeyong wouldn’t notice the glistening tear roll down your cheek, you quickly compose yourself and turn back.
“Oppa? I’m going to get something, okay?”
He turned and you were once again faced with the full force of his attention. It was like a bag of sand on your shoulder, except you weren’t an air balloon and they weren’t getting cut off. No, they were piled and piled onto you like you were supposed to drown.
“Yeah, yeah. I get the cute babies and dogs all to myself now,” he joked, leaning back into the couch.
You took the hand of your teddy all the way to your bedroom, wiping your eyes along the way. You imagined you looked somewhat like a distressed toddler, padding back to your room.
Holding down the bear, you raised the pair of scissors over the gift.
Snip. Snip. Snip.
White stuffing exploded out of the cut, going this way and that way as you stuck your hand in. After a few seconds of blind searching, you pulled out the box you had felt against your chest earlier.
There, resting on your palm, was a camera with a blinking red light.
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Taeyong lounged on the couch, feeling content but a little restless.
A feeling that usually pervaded his whole body when he was away from you.
When he could not touch you, see you, feel you, Taeyong was antsy. He couldn’t sit still, his eyes zoomed around like balls on a roulette table, couldn’t focus. It was like withdrawal, but from you.
His members noticed. They noticed he was maybe a tiny bit healthier, less gaunt, but forever distracted. Yuta remarked sullenly that he was always on his phone, never making time for the rest of the members in the dorm.
But how could he? How could he focus when dancing when his baby girl was just one swipe away?
Taeyong’s leg bounced up and down as he waited for Y/N to return from her room.
Taeyong’s dark brows furrowed as heard your voice. You haven’t called him “sunbaenim” in private in weeks.
He turned around and what he saw nearly made his heart stop.
Taeyong’s face went through several phases. He turned bone-white in shock, eyes wide in panic, and stuttering in desperation.
“What is this?” you asked, your tone deceptively light.
“Why did I find a camera recording inside the stuffed bear you gave me?”
For once, Taeyong was speechless. He didn’t have a smooth condolence or excuse to give you. His eyes looked pained when his hands reached out towards you.
“Y/N, baby, let me explain.”
“Don’t call me baby! You better have some damn good explanation for this, I- after all this time? You’ve been spying on me?” you voice had gotten very angry but then had immediately turned anguished.
“Baby girl, please, I had to keep eyes on you somehow! I couldn’t just let you go, can’t you understand?”
“Understand what?”
“I’m fucking in love with you! I need you! I can’t breathe, can’t sleep, can’t eat without you!”
You reared back in shock.
“Taeyong, this isn’t love,” you spoke slowly, backing away from him. “T-this is obsession. You need help”
“This is love, Y/N. I have given up everything for you, I’ve done everything for you.”
He stalked towards you slowly, trying to not scare you off like a frantic doe.
“Why do you think your manager suddenly fell of a building? That bitch certainly didn’t fall off by herself. I fucking pushed her fat ass, I hid near the roof entrance and threw her off the skyline. It’s a pity she isn’t dead, but you know what? She’s in a coma and in pain, she deserves it after hurting you.”
“Oh my god—”
“There’s more! Remember our dear, handsome, Shownu?”
An expression of horror befell your face and seized your heart.
“Your dearest Shownu is in the ER after being poisoned. It isn’t on the news, but I sent him that letter. It was a letter coated in poison. Poison that goes airborne after being exposed to the air after 24 hours in being in liquid form. He couldn’t man up for you, so I did away with him!” he shouted, sounding crazed and delirious and not like your Taeyong at all.
“Taeyong, you’re scaring me!”
He sucked in a gasp of pain, distress radiating from his whole body. His eyes were like fractured glass, broken, and had a touch of desperation shining in those mesmerizing depths.“Oh no, baby—”
You stumbled away from his body.
He relented and sat back down on the couch reluctantly. When he sighed, it felt like he was on the cusp of doing something but he just put his head in his hands.
After a moment of tense fear, he spoke up. “I gave up so much for you. I gave up the pills for you.”
“After my injury last year, I was addicted to narcotics. They just got rid of all the pain in my body and in my mind. You have to understand, baby girl, I was distraught. I couldn’t participate in the world tour with all my members, couldn’t see my fans, couldn’t even fucking perform of my broken leg. I didn’t even know if I would be able to perform afterwards.”
You let out a small gasp.
“But for you, after seeing you on stage on our win looking like salvation, I gave it all up—”
“ —and focused all on me,” you whispered.
He nodded, his eyes scanning over you and his body tense in anticipation, like he expected you to bolt.
Your head was spinning. All these revelations being revealed. Taeyong, the sweet, caring, oppa of yours that had helped you through pain was the a criminal, a menace to society that had nearly killed two people. He was insane, delusional, a sasaeng of the worst kind— the kind that thought he was in love. You needed space, or else him and his eyes and his passion would consume you and never let go.
“I- I Taeyong—”
“Oppa,” he muttered.
“-this,” you waved a frantic hand between the space of you two “isn’t healthy. I need to think—”
You hadn’t even blinked before Taeyong slammed you into a wall, pressing his lips onto you like a brand. His hands grasped your waist tightly to him like he was trying to meld your body with his, trying to crawl into a cavity and never come out.
“Baby girl,” he said in between the kisses. “Don’t leave, me, please.”
“No, we need to talk this out—”
“No talking, Y/N. Sometimes we need our bodies to express some things that can’t be spoken for us. I have been waiting to touch you for real for months.”
His slender fingers didn’t even fumble when they slid underneath your t-shirt. His thumbs massaged the skin of your sensitive sides. His fingers left goosebumps in their wake while they slowly traveled up and up until his hands were right beneath your bra.
Meanwhile, his other hand had played with the edge of the back your shorts. Slipping in and out, unable to choose whether to play with elastic of your shorts or your panties.
Please, just go in! You frantically thought and then immediately recoiled in disgust. This criminal, this murderer, was touching you and you submitted to him like a bitch in the heat? You raised your knee to hit to where the sun didn’t shine.
Almost predicting your actions, he smirked into your kiss and slipped in whole hand into your panties. Your knee dropped as you clenched your teeth, the wall supporting the whole of your weight. He was now cupping your butt in his large, slender hands and he pulled you in even more towards his body.
“Oh, baby girl, you’re mine, you know that? Since the day I saw you…”
His hand abruptly pushed your bra cup and was holding your breast in hand. A reluctant moan came from your lips as you tensed from the sensations.
“…to the day I saw you getting off on the teddy bear I gave.”
You gasped, embarrassed and ashamed then tried to push him off, but Taeyong took advantage of your parted lips and slipped his tongue. You were still a deep red, now knowing he knew of that time you humped his teddy bear picturing him, imagining his fingers you.
He chuckled deeply, letting it hang in the air. “What a naughty girl, huh? No one would never expect that kind of wantonness from you.”
“But, me?” He whispered, right at your ear. The puffs of air coming from his lips rushed over your skin and you shivered. You were so over-sensitized, feeling his hands on your butt on your chest on your neck— fuck, he was everywhere. You needed him stop before you couldn’t think why this was wrong and- “I see it. You’re all for me to devour.”
Taeyong started stripping off your shorts, and a soft hiss was heard as they were dropped to the floor around your feet. His talented hands started unclasping the clasp of your bra strap and you felt the decompression of the band around your chest.
“You’re like alcohol, you know? To me,” he casually said, as if you were having a conversation instead of groping each other.
He rubbed his fingers near the crevice of your thighs. “You begin the night wanting to nurse a glass, to savor it, taste it.”
“But in the end, you just end up drinking the whole damn thing and get the most wonderful high.”
Taeyong, without warning, pinched your clit. A shout left your lips and he quickly quieted you down, pressing his lips against yours. Your hands clenched his broad shoulders like a vice and you shamefully looked downwards, unable to look this man in the eyes. What were you doing with this- this sinner?
Rubbing two fingers against the wetness coating your nether lips, he slipped them in and curled.
“Taeyong!” you gasped.
He played your pussy like a well-practiced instrument, undulating with an unheard rhythm known to his ears only and you could only anticipate. A bit pressure this way, he learned, made you gasp, but a curl in this direction made you keen loudly and hump against your hand. You couldn’t believe your mind was kept captive by your helpless body, and you wished so badly you could tell him stop but--
He lightly stroked your clit and you jumped, shaking in his arms until he held you still. Over and over again he pressed but never at the prefect pressure or the perfect spot.
Abruptly, he pulled his fingers out of you. He nearly creamed himself when he saw you pouting your perfect lips up at him, pressing yourself against him like a wanton whore.
“Do you really want this, baby girl? Tell me,” he said, wrenching at your shirt to get it off.
“Yes!” you hissed, far beyond rational thought at this point.
“Well, my baby girl has to show it for oppa, okay?”
He scooped your bare legs up and sat on the couch, you straddling his lap.
“You’re going to cum while grinding yourself against my dick,” he smiled wickedly as he roughly guided your hips atop his bulge.
“W-what?” you asked confusion.
He grabbed your hand and placed it atop the bulge in his trousers. The bulge twitched and thrummed under your touch while a vein popped out from Taeyong’s forehead.
Taeyong leaned up to your ear. “You get to hump yourself against a real dick this time. Not some pathetic teddy bear.”
You looked reluctantly at him, butbegan to undulate your panty-clad pussy against his clothed dick.
“Faster, baby. You can do better than that.”
More and more you went over his dick, stimulating your clit in the most wonderful of ways. Actually having a warm presence under you increased your pleasure ten fold and adding in the fact it was Taeyong? One hundred fold. You felt a wet spot forming on his trousers and already soaking your ruined panties.
“I want to see you come undone for me. Need me. Want me.”
You clenched your eyes shut as you stuffed a hand in your mouth to stop yourself from screaming. You tried to angle your clit into touching the hump of his dick underneath his trousers, but it just rubbed against your pussy lips.
Taeyong thrust up for the first time while you, in mid grind, harshly pushed against his dick.
It hit the spot.
Even with your hand covering your mouth, your scream could be heard throughout the apartment. You came apart on Taeyong’s lap, not even being penetrated, and you shook uselessly against his chest.
He laughed that annoying chuckle again, cool and calm as a cucumber. He stroked your back as you came down from your high, holding you against him desperately.
“Good job baby girl, I’m gonna do my part now.”
Flipping you over on your back, he pulled at your panties you lifted yourself up, allowing him to take the soaked material from your core. Your pussy was exposed to the cold air and, seeing his eyes resting on your vagina, you clenched your legs together.
“Tsk, tsk, my baby girl shouldn’t hide herself away from me,” he spoke serenely while painfully wrenching your legs apart, veins popping out for his forearms from the effort.
He finally took your bra off your chest, and your nipples stiffened in the cold air.
Taeyong’s eyes glazed over and he groaned, nearly falling to his knees from the pure perfection of the sight of you naked.
Taeyong took off his shirt then unbuttoned his trousers and he exposed his cock to your hazy vision. He stroked his dick, spreading the precum along the veiny sides.
Lowering himself, he buried his head in your neck and his cock pressed against the entrance to your core. You grasped onto his broad shoulders, feeling his defined collarbones beneath your feelings, and tightened your grip.
“You’re the first thing I think of in the morning, anytime, and I’ll make you think of no one but me.”
With that, he thrusted harshly in. Mutual moans of appreciation were elicited from you two. He was a perfect fit inside of you, providing the puzzle piece to you incomplete puzzle. It felt like your nerves were going haywire after being surrounded by him.
“I knew you would be a perfect fit. You’re mine,” He stated it like a fact of nature.
He rolled his hips against yours and you couldn’t stay still. Your hand searched for something to latch onto in an ocean of pleasure, and Taeyong’s hand was the beacon of light to hold on to.
Your pussy clenched him at different times, often catching Taeyong off-guard and having to rein himself in from cumming inside you too quick. After your last pulse which nearly brought him crashing headfirst into oblivion, he removed himself from you.
You whined, your legs trying to bring him back in. However, Taeyong just flipped you over and dragged you to the edge of your couch, throwing you over the arm. Your butt stuck up high in the air while you buried your face into a pillow, screaming in anticipation. He quickly slipped himself back in and you screamed.
This position let you feel him better, and let him go deeper. He hit spots he hadn’t before while you were on your back. He was panting loudly, and you could bet sweat was running down the sides of his chiseled face.
All your pining and his obsession was coming to a culmination. He thrusted harder and harder into you until you could feel your cheeks turn red. You could feel his desperation in his hands, that clutched you like he was never going to let go and his thrusts, rutting into you like a demon.
“My goddess, my goddess,” he repeated like a mantra.
“Taeyong!” you yelped. Inside you was an even more vibrant explosion than your dreams could have ever fathomed, consuming your vision and you body and everywhere. You thrashed in this overwhelming pleasure, being consumed and devoured by a passion.
“Yes, baby girl, cum for me— oh, fuck!”
His hips stuttered as his cum coated your walls white, thrusting his semen into you. The feeling was so pleasurable you felt like you nearly had a second orgasm. You felt his cum coat the lips of your vagina and slowly run down your thighs.
He stopped, and hunched over you, breathing harshly. Taeyong put a shirt on you as he fell back into the couch, pulling you to sit on his lap.
“I- I love you!” you blurted out suddenly. You groaned in embarrassment as you covered your eyes.
“Baby girl, you don’t know how glad I am to hear that. I’ve loved you from the first time I saw you. I can’t even explain what I feel for you, that’s why I’ve done crazy things for you. Feelings like this come once in a lifetime and you can’t let them go, no matter the price,” he whispered, stroking your belly with infinitive care, knowing what must be forming in your belly right now.
The sound of a click resounded throughout the apartment and you looked up to see the three horrified faces of Bolin, Bella, and Sunmi through the doorway.
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Sleep, Y/N. We’re going somewhere far, far away from here and I promise…
… you’ll love me…
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holy shit, i have had to repost this because it’s not showing up in the tags im so sorry if you’ve seen this like 12837293472 times
7K notes · View notes
caiuscassiuss · 3 years ago
Mile High Club (M)
NCT/WayV Ten ♡ Female! Reader
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Description: The passenger in the first class cabin was getting a little bit... antsy. How convenient that you were a model air hostess that served to please.
Genre: PWP | humor WC: 4k Warnings: graphic smut (fellatio, semi-public sex, fingering, semi-dubcon, domination kink, dirty talk), alcohol, profanity
(A/N: y’all this is just a indulgent fic as a reward for 400+ notes on Muse! i’m going to hell but I hope you like it~)
 “Welcome aboard flight 8374 departing from Bangkok, Thailand on course to Seoul, South Korea. I am your captain Lee Junseo, and if you are in need of any assistance during the duration of the flight, do not hesitate to ask our wonderful flight attendants. We at Korean Stream hope you have an enjoyable flight.” Looking out the window at cruising altitude, you noticed the complete darkness outside only interspersed by the occasional red blinking of the beacon. While this has been a familiar sight to you, the wonder and delight of being 37,000 feet up in the air has not failed to keep you entertained and spirits, lively (as much as they could be in a cabin full of cranky passengers).    Taking the captain’s message as a cue, you and your fellow 5 flight attendants unclick your safety belts and quickly get to the carts.    “Sarah, Sooyoung, to the economy class. Katie and David, get to your positions in business class. It looks like I’m stuck with first-class duty,” you say with a sigh, looking over at the class assignments.    “Why do you sound to put-out? I’m the one dealing with entitled wannabes, here!” David snorted as he fixed his tie. The silver, gleaming name tag emblazoned with Kim, David: Flight Attendant was affixed firmly to the lapel of his dark blue blazer, while his gelled back hair shone.    “Oh, please! My termination could be one misplaced caviar egg away!” you shoot back, as you straighten the wrinkles on your dress you might’ve attained while sitting. You were so lucky that your employment began when Korean Stream upgraded their previous hideous uniforms to gorgeous, elegant outfits. The navy blue dress, with long sleeves and hemmed just above the knee, was set off by an orange-based red neckerchief.    “Our terminations could be a flight away if you don’t get your asses to your stations!” Katie, your chief flight attendant, scolded.    “Yeah, yeah,” the four of you hummed glumly.
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   Ten gripped the cushioned armrests of his reclinable chair greatly, the butter-soft Italian leather feeling quite smooth under his incensed grip. He tapped his foot on the carpeted floor and squirmed in his seat, looking around the luxurious first-class cabin he had bought for himself.    Irritation was not an unfamiliar emotion on Ten’s fine-boned visage, whether it be seen screaming at incompetent workers or bossing around employees. However, this irritation was not caused by the little bumbling chit in the secretarial department (who couldn’t tell the difference between the hour and the minute hand) or his gambling step-brother (who seemed to think the company card was his own), but rather his own traitorous, male sexual organ.    Which was barely constrained by the cut of his tailored Savile Row trousers.    Ten hadn’t the slightest idea why this was happening. He hadn’t watched porn in the hours before the flight. No female had tried to impose their physical attentions on his body. Hell, he had gone to the bathroom in the first-class Korean Stream lounge so it couldn’t have been unintentional. All he knew that he had a painful boner in his pants, a slight fear of blue balls, and need to fuck any female at this point.    The successful entrepreneur huffed and opened the remote control panel underneath his armrest, and flicked on the TV. Perhaps the mindless static of commercial television would occupy his thoughts and off of his unfortunate erection. It buzzed on, the cold LED display a harsh contrast from the warm, ambient lighting of the cabin. Ten rested his head on his palm as he flicked through the channels, a spectacularly bored expression on his face as he went through piles and piles of infomercials. Seriously, he paid 9000 pounds for this? Overly smiley flight attendants advertising products he did not want, nor need?    Things were not made better by his still pressing erection between his legs, which he had crossed his legs over in order to stifle it down. Obviously, it had not worked. Ten had the urge to run his hands through his hair but was reminded he had had it slicked back for his business meeting in a few hours in Seoul. If his erection were not taken care of now, well, his case of blue balls would not be pleasant to bear during a meeting with the shipping company he wanted to acquire.    Just as Ten was about to unbuckle his trousers, a pleasant little knock sounded on the sliding partition between him and the rest of the plane.    “What?!” Ten gritted out.    Silence followed. “My apologies Mister… Leechaiyapornkul. If you would like me to come back with refreshments during a more convenient time, I would be happy to return,” an undeniably female voice rang out.    The young CEO was snapped out of his growing annoyance when the soft voice sounded through the partition. A lasvicious smirk crawled up and over his plump lips, a devious and rather naughty plan forming in his quick mind. A flight attendant, hm? He had always wanted to fuck a girl a few thousand feet in the air. Maybe playing with this little flight attendant would help him take care of his little… problem and cross a thing of his imaginary bucket list.    “My apologies. Do come in,” Ten straightened in his chair and settled the Hermés throw blanket provided over his lap.    To his great delight, a rather attractive lady stepped cautiously through the door. Dressed in the signature fitted navy blue dress of Korean Stream, it’s fit hugged her pleasant curves and showed an enticing amount of leg. Killer red heels adorned her feet, that matched her necktie and painted lips and drew his eyes when she bowed politely.    “What would you like to drink, sir? We have sodas and juices, but also a fine selection of alcoholic beverages if you’re feeling for something stronger,” you smiled at him, albeit robotically.    “I find myself in the mood for something a bit stronger, you know. Something that gets the blood pumping through the veins. The harder it is, the better,” he smirked at you, fully aware of the suggestive innuendos coming from his lips.    He was pleased to see the flight attendant— y/n, was her name? That what’s it said on her nametag, so nicely placed at the swell of her breast—look a bit shaken at the clearly provocative undertone of his statement.    “I-I- Of course, sir. We—”    “Call me Ten, now. No need to be so stiff,” Ten smiled.    “Um, yes... Ten. We have Dom Perignon, a great menu of wines, some tequila, vodka—”    “I think I’ll take up the offer on the vodka, please.”    “Coming right up.”    Ten was treated to a magnificent view of your backside, a pert bum giving way to a pair of killer legs only making his erection stiffer.    Y/n quickly came back with a tray of a glass and a bottle of Stoli Elit vodka. She leaned down and set down the tray on his chairside table, before bowing.    His hand shot out to take the glass, before “accidentally” brushing against the flight attendant’s thigh. The cute little minx gasped, her lips slightly parted in shock (which he’d like to see wrapped around his dick).    “Oh? I’m very sorry about that—” not feeling sorry at all “ — that was rather clumsy of me,” Ten smiled at the attendant. She smiled politely and took the vodka bottle and poured some into the glass encased in Ten’s sinuous fingers. The businessman’s fine eye for detail quickly caught on to the fine tremors that wracked the lady’s arm as she served. Secretly, his lips pulled up in a smirk; his plan was working.    It always did.    However, a jolt of turbulence unexpectedly hit the plane, and some of the vodka in Ten’s glass sloshed over onto the attendant’s dress.    “Oh, my!” Y/n gasped in surprise. She put down the bottle of Stoli Elit and began dabbing at her clothes with a wipe she procured from her pocket. Ten was on his feet immediately, his arm stretched out to help.    “Goodness gracious! My dear, I am truly sorry, here, let me help—”    “It’s alright sir, I’ve got it handled myself! I wouldn’t want to trouble you—”    “Here, let us go to the bathroom. Perhaps we can fix that mess a bit with a good rinse.”    “It’s truly fine sir—”    “Ten, and it’s no problem to me. Let us go.”    Silenced by his authoritative manner, y/n had quieted down.    “T-Thank you.”    “The pleasure is all mine,” Ten gestured to the entrance of the hallway with a flourish. You followed him out the door, and Ten smirked as he closed the partition with a satisfying click.    “Truly, it is.”
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   Why in the seven hells were you in this situation.    Here you were, leading the way to the opulent bathroom reserved for first class passengers only, with one of the most handsome and successful men you have ever seen on your trail.    Ten Leechaiyapornkul was a man truly blessed with good genes if you had ever seen one. His black hair was gelled back in a devil-may-care style, loose strands framing his sun-kissed complexion. Dark brows were settled over mischievous eyes, like he knew something you didn’t, while his plush lips were pulled up in a slight smirk.    Not to mention his good looks, but his amazing cunning. To have such a successful business at such a young age, you were a bit reverent of Ten’s achievements.    Long, lean legs, quickly caught up with you in the corridor, his height only slightly taller than you. You noticed that everyone was virtually asleep, no TV’s playing and silence permeated throughout the cabin. Well, at least no one would gossip about the pair of you.    You slid open the door to the lavatory, which was not some tiny cramped restroom that could barely fit a toilet and a sink. Oh no, this lavatory fit a toilet, a full counter and sink, and a shower provided for the comfort of Korean Stream’s first class passengers. The room comfortably fit the pair of you.    You immediately made a beeline for the sink and turned on the faucet, all too aware of the dangerous man standing behind you. He clicked his teeth and gently pushed you out of the way, getting some soft towels and running them under the tap.    “Here.”    The businessman bent down to your abdomen and dabbed slightly at the stain, trying to remove it from your dress. His intense focus on his task made your knees slightly shake, and you put a glove-covered hand on the counter to steady yourself.    “Oh dear, it looks like it has gone through your dress,” Ten says sympathetically as he keeps on wiping.    “Perhaps you should try to remove the top half of your dress to get the stain out,” Ten suggested boldly, riskily taking a chance to get to his goal quicker.    “I-I excuse me? That’s highly inappropriate—”    “Compared to the situation we have now? A passenger and crew member in a spacious lavatory together?”    You stayed silent.    “I’ll turn my back, I promise,” Ten swore as he turned back towards the counter, his wine-colored suit jacket stretching over his shoulders as he crossed his arms.    “O-Okay,” you stuttered.    Hell, this was one of the worst ideas you had, but if the smell of vodka on your work attire made itself apparent to your Chief Flight Attendant, you were done for. Stripped of a job and highly enjoyable career, all because of behavioral misconduct. And you couldn’t even ask the passenger to leave, because he was a powerful man with powerful connections that could get you blacklisted.    You slowly unbuttoned the top of your dress, fingers trembling in nervousness. Somehow, your panties dampened unconsciously due to the extremely handsome man in the room. You pushed down the material of the top half and bunched it around your waist. You took the towel and swiped harshly at the stain on the bodice of your dress.    Unbeknownst to you, Ten had a perfect view of the proceedings. You had forgotten there was a perfectly functioning mirror behind the sink so he could see inch by delicious inch of your skin being revealed. When your bra clasp came into view, he decided to make his move.    He turned around quietly and crept up behind you. He quickly unclasped your bra clasp and put his hand on your waist    “I’m afraid my promises mean shit, however.”    Before you could protest, Ten had your mouth captured in a searing kiss, plump lips dominating yours powerfully. You could only grasp onto his shoulders weakly as he slammed you against a wall, hard enough that you are 500 percent sure that someone in the corridor heard it. He nips and bites at our lips, and you involuntarily moan as his hands climb lower and lower. The CEO smiles against your lips and trails his kisses to your neck.    "I don't think... we should do this..." you pant.    "Oh, sweetheart, I know you want this too. Don’t lie to me"     Your fingers grasp at his blazer and quickly try to shove it off, which he obliges in helping with a smirk that clearly signified he had won. Ten roughly shoves a leg between yours, his erection pressing beneath your thighs hard and hot.    You palm his erection, enfolding his lips with yours, fingers teasing. You stroke the bulge in his pants, squeeze and continue stroking while his grip on you grows tighter.    “Doll, you’re playing with fire there,” Ten warns as his kisses trail to your breasts.    You let out a coquettish giggle, and shove a hand into his boxers to touch his dick.    Ten roughly shoves you away and leans against the counter. He crosses his arms imperiously, a king commanding his citizens.    “Kneel, doll.”    You gave him a confused look, biting your lip and looking at him seductively.    You see his knuckles turn white as he balls them up tightly, and his voice grows even more forceful. “No matter how pretty you are, doll, I warned you and now you’re going to take your punishment like a good girl. So kneel.”    You slowly get down to the floor, keeping eye contact with him throughout the whole process. Although he is unwavering in your lustful gaze, you can see the glint of want in his penetrating gaze.    “Yes, sir.”    You draw a finger over the stitching of inseam, slowly and steadily. You deftly unbuckle his Louis Vuitton belt, shiny golden buckles hanging in the air. You smile and carefully unbutton each button of his trousers, taking your sweet time. Your hand creeps out and pulls his hard dick from his briefs.    His length bounces into your face, unceremoniously slapping against your cheek. His cock is one of the best you’ve ever seen, a good length and as thick as your wrist. Perhaps he was physically blessed in many ways. Your thumb swipes over the head of his cock, spreading the oozing precum left and right. Ten still has an inscrutable expression on his face but was frowning a bit harder than he was before. You wrap your whole hand along his dick, pumping up and down quickly before slowing down, then speeding up again.    “I want to see those delicious red lips wrapped around my cock, doll. Get to it.” Ten says after a few seconds of his handjob.    You pout but oblige. You hold his dick carefully and position it to your mouth. Your cherry-red lips open wide suck at the tip of his cock, your eyes locking into his innocently. Your tongue twists patterns and patterns on his oblong length, feeling his veiny texture and memorizing it.    Ten throws his head back and moans loudly, his hands clenching tightly against the counter. Somehow, his legs still hold strong and don’t buckle underneath the pleasure of your rather excellent blowjob.    You decide to get a little riskier and completely remove your hands. Your hands reach underneath your dress and poke at your clit. You squeal a bit, shocked by how sensitive your core is. Your index finger lazily draws circles around your pussy, sometimes even pushing up farther. You lower and lower your head until your nose hits his pubic hair, cheeks stuffed with his cock.    “Oh, doll, you’re doing a great job taking your punishment,” Ten says breathily.    “Thank you, sir” you mumble, your mouth a bit occupied with something at the moment.    You slide your lips back and forth along his length while sucking hard and soft. Ten’s right-hand darts out and clasps your ponytail and shoves your head harder onto his dick.    “Doll, I’m about to cum. Take… Take it like a good girl, okay?”    He strokes his length harder and harder, the head slightly pushing against your open lips. A few seconds later, a throaty moan signifies his ejection of cum, streams of it spurting into your mouth. Most of it gets into your mouth and is swallowed, but some of it splatters onto your chin.    Ten breathes heavily for a few moments and then straightens up. He reaches down as grasps your waist then lifts you up like a limp doll, settling you on the counter with a muffled smack.    “Since you did so well, I’m going to give you a little treat okay? Sit tight.”    He harshly bunches up your dress to your stomach, leaving your near transparent panties exposed to the cool air. The businessman looks like a little boy who found his candy as his eyes rake over your spread thighs encased in tight white panties, eyes greedily glinting as he takes in the view.    Ten shoves down your panties to your ankles and wastes no time in putting a hand to your clit. You let out an extremely loud moan which you muffle with your hand, eyes closed in rapture at the feeling. Ten looks at your face and at your gaping lips, cavern still dripping with cum. He smirks and strokes his thumb against your engorged clit harshly, and a piteous whine escapes your lips.        “Let your moans out, doll. I want to hear them, okay?”    Too focused at the pleasurable feeling in the crevice of your thighs, you do not deign him a response. Ten frowns and inserts 2 fingers into your pussy deeply.    “Do you hear me?”    “Yes, sir!” you cry, pussy clenching hard against his fingers.    Ten tsked and looked at his fingers, now dripping with your juices.    “Oh dear, you’re already so wet, doll, and it’s only been a few minutes. You must want it really badly, hm?”    “Y-yes, yes please!”    “I don’t think you want it hard enough, doll, maybe I should—”    “Please, sir! Please!”    “Please what?”    “Please… Please fuck me!” You cry, intensely frustrated at his teasing.    “Oh, alright. You only had to ask politely.”    With that, Ten shoves his whole length into your pussy, no warm-up or preparation necessary. He immediately sets a hard and fast pace, his belt buckle clinking wildly as he his slam up against your yours. You can feel your back hitting the cabinet several times, the handle digging in harshly into your shoulder blades giving a mixture of pleasure and pain. His fingers dig into your thighs creating red marks, while Ten’s body is almost completely covering yours.    The veiny texture of his cock your tongue had memorized so well was stimulating the walls of your pussy, eliciting wanton whines from your lips. If you had ever witnessed this scene from another standpoint, you would’ve been horrified at how indecent you looked as the dirtiest noises came out of your mouth and filled the charged air.    Ten’s breath was coming out hard against the side of your neck, while he was whispering extremely dirty things in your ears.    “Guess you’re an easy one, huh? Fuck, you feel so good against my cock, shit, I could ride you all day, baby. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, doll? Fucking you wherever I could?”    “Yesss,” you hiss out, a haze of euphoria and pleasure addling your brain as effectively as heroin.    “I could bend you over in the middle of the plane aisle in front of all those people and you’d still be moaning like a whore for me! Shit, who taught you this, huh? You’re so fucking tight, fuck!”    Ten speeds up, hips slapping lewdly against yours. The fear of someone passing by and hearing the illicit noises from the first-class passenger bathroom was completely wiped from your brain. He lifted your legs up to his shoulders, killer red heels pointing up into the air, legs spread apart and quim bared to his hungry gaze.    The new position enabled him to dig even deeper into your pussy, the head of his cock hitting places that you didn’t even know that existed. He surpassed any former sexual partner you had, by far, the way he made you feel was unparalleled. However, the feeling in the pit of your stomach built up and up and up until—    “Ten!” you cry out.    Your pussy clenches around his dick harshly, as you cum hard. This was the first time a man had ever made you cum without foreplay. Your back arched off the counter and pushed your breasts into Ten’s face.    Ten kept fucking you through your orgasm, still looking for his release. You can see his teeth grinding against each other, brow furrowed as sweat beaded up against his forehead. The strands that escaped his gelled hairdo had multiplied, and now many of them swung back and forth at the sheer force Ten was screwing you with.    “Fuck!”    He quickly pulls out and you can feel warm streams of come splattering on the inside of your thighs. While he jerks off, cum spurts sporadically from his dick. Cum drips down your legs, and you can feel a pool of it underneath you on the counter.    Your ragged breaths resound around the confined, airplane lavatory. Coming to your senses, you can smell the raw scent of lust in the air and the mugginess of the bathroom. You can hear the wind of the airplane through the cabin, and the dinging noise over the intercom signifying the seat-belts on sign.    “Well, we better get back, shouldn’t we?” Ten composed himself, zipping back his length into his trousers.    “Yeah…” you absentmindedly say as you work on cleaning Ten’s cum from your inner thighs. He sees and rushes to aid you, finding the linen-soft paper towels of the first-class passenger bathroom.    After clean up, you straighten your dress and underwear, looking into the mirror for any sign of your illicit rendezvous. Thankfully, your makeup wasn’t too far out of place and your hair had a few stray curls, but that was the extent of the damage. However, the satisfied glint in your eyes would signify to any sexually-active person in range to notice that you got fucked.
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   You scrambled to the attendant’s seating, at least 5 minutes late after the announcement of turbulence. You drew the seatbelt over you and settled into the plastic cushion of the chair.    “Well, well, well, why is Miss Y/n late?” David asked sardonically.    “Nothing,” you defensively shoot back.    Katie, who is next to you, gives a quick scan over and comes to a definite conclusion, evident in the way her mouth drops and her lined eyes widen.    “Y/n!” Katie gasps.    “What?” you ask.    “Did you do what I think you did?” Katie says hushedly.    “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you say stoically, hands fidgeting as your eyes travel to your lap.    “I have it on good authority there were banging noises and muffled moans coming from the first class lavatory. So who is coincidentally missing and who happens to also service the area?” Sooyoung sardonically laughs, raising an eyebrow.    “Fine! I… I might’ve… might’ve done something extremely… unprofessional,” you stutter, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks. Damn, you were caught.    “Might I add not in the curriculum the flight attendant handbook?” Sarah quips.    “Going above and beyond duty, that’s for sure. Was he at least hot?” David asks as the group explodes in laughter.    You grumble good-naturedly, still feeling the small stiff card burning in your pocket, emblazoned in wine red ink with Ten’s number and address.
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sichengjpeg · 2 years ago
ten: *kissy emoji* *hearts emoji* *diligently preserving his lovely charming idol image by flirting with the camera*
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totally-correct-kpop · 2 years ago
Hendery: How can your body replicate the feeling of falling from high altitudes in a nightmare if you’ve never fallen like that before?
Ten: *whispering to Kun* I don’t think I like this kid, he’s too aware and that scares me.
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