lee taeyong x fem!reader
cw: explicit language, sexual themes, spit kink, drug use
the studio is dimly lit, with a soft hum from the equipment. it's past midnight, but time doesn’t matter here. it’s just you, taeyong, and the haze of smoke as he passes you the blunt with a lazy smile.
“take it,” he murmurs, watching you with half-lidded eyes. you reach for it, your fingers brushing his. the high is setting in, making everything slow down and feel more intense.
you take another drag, the smoke curling in the air between you and taeyong. the room feels smaller, the walls seem closer as the high settles in, making everything feel more real.
taeyong leans back against the couch, one arm over the backrest, his eyes on you as you exhale. the dim light casts shadows on his face, highlighting his jaw and lips. he’s quiet, but the silence between you isn’t awkward.
“feels good, doesn’t it?” he asks, his voice low. he takes the blunt from you, his fingers brushing yours again. you watch as he inhales deeply, his eyes still on yours.
you nod, licking your lips as you lean back. “yeah… really good.
he grins, the corners of his eyes crinkling, making him look younger. “we should do this more often,” he says, holding the smoke in his lungs before exhaling slowly, the haze drifting toward you.
you hum in agreement, your eyes on his lips, watching the way they curve around the blunt. the sight stirs something in you, a memory of the last time you kissed him, the way his mouth felt against yours, the taste of him mixed with the sharp tang of weed.
it was good—more than good, really—but in your current state, with your thoughts a little muddled, you can’t help but wonder aloud. “you know… you’re not that great of a kisser.”
the words hang in the air between you, and for a moment, you wonder if you’ve crossed a line. taeyong’s eyebrows lift in surprise, and he lets out a small laugh. “oh, really?” he asks, passing the blunt back to you, a playful expression on his face, but there’s something more in his eyes. “so, who was your best kiss?”
you take the blunt from him, your fingers lingering on his for a second longer than necessary, and bring it to your lips, inhaling deeply as you think about your answer. you exhale slowly, the smoke curling around your words as you smirk at him. “you don’t know them. but they came before you.”
taeyong’s eyes narrow slightly, a smile playing on his lips as he watches you. “is that so?” his voice is calm, but there’s tension and curiosity in it. he leans forward slightly, his gaze locked on yours, and you feel the air between you grow thicker, heavy with what isn’t being said.
“yeah…” you say, gesturing with your hands, holding one higher than the other. “they’re there, and you’re here.”
he hums, his eyes never leaving yours as he leans in closer, his lips hovering near yours. you can feel the warmth of his breath, the scent of weed and something uniquely him filling the small space between you.
“what, you jealous?” you tease, parting your lips slightly, daring him to close the distance.
taeyong’s eyes darken, his voice dropping as he replies, “nah, because i know you’re messing with me.”
your eyes lock with his, the weight of his words hanging in the air. there’s a pause where neither of you moves, the room thick with tension. it feels like the world has narrowed to just the two of you, every sound, every breath amplified. you can feel your heart pounding in your chest, the pulse in your ears drowning out everything else.
taeyong’s gaze drops to your lips, and you know he’s thinking about it—about what it would feel like to close that last bit of space between you. his hand, still resting on the back of the couch, inches closer, fingers brushing against your shoulder, a touch so light it almost doesn’t register. but it does, and it sends a shiver down your spine.
“you think i’m jealous?” he asks again, his voice low, almost a whisper, his eyes still on your mouth. he’s close now, so close that you can feel the heat radiating off him, smell the faint scent of his cologne mixed with the smoke that lingers in the air.
you open your mouth to reply, but the words catch in your throat, trapped by the intensity of his stare. instead, you find yourself leaning in, your body moving on its own, drawn to him like a magnet. your lips are just a breath away from his, and you can feel the anticipation buzzing between you, the electric charge of what’s about to happen.
taeyong’s fingers graze your jaw, tilting your head slightly as he finally closes the gap, his lips brushing against yours in a way that’s almost teasing, a soft, tentative kiss that leaves you wanting more. it’s not enough—not nearly enough.
you respond quickly, pressing forward, deepening the kiss, your hands finding their way to his chest, gripping the fabric of his shirt as if to pull him closer. he groans softly into your mouth, the sound vibrating against your lips, and it sends a thrill through you, the knowledge that you can make him react that way.
the kiss quickly becomes more heated, more desperate. his hands, which were gentle at first, become more insistent, sliding down your sides, slipping under your shirt, fingers splaying against your skin. you shiver at the touch, the coolness of his hands a stark contrast to the warmth flooding your body.
taeyong pulls back slightly, his lips just inches from yours, both of you breathing heavily. his eyes are dark, filled with something primal, something that makes your heart race even faster. he stares at you with an intensity that pins you in place, his gaze dropping to your swollen lips, then back up to meet your eyes.
his tongue darts out, wetting his bottom lip as he studies your face, seeming to take in the way your chest rises and falls with each breath. he leans in again, but this time, he doesn’t close the distance completely. his mouth hovers close to yours, his breath hot against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.
you can feel the anticipation building, the heat between you simmering just beneath the surface. your lips part slightly, a silent invitation, and he watches, his gaze never leaving your mouth. then, with a slow, deliberate movement, taeyong tilts his head slightly, just enough to gather saliva in his mouth. he holds your gaze, his eyes locked onto yours, making sure you know exactly what’s coming.
without breaking eye contact, he lets the spit drip from his lips, a slow, deliberate stream that lands directly on your tongue. the sensation is unexpected, raw, and filthy in a way that makes your entire body tense with arousal. your breath hitches, a gasp caught in your throat as the wet heat of it fills your mouth.
taeyong doesn’t give you a moment to recover. as your lips part in shock, he closes the gap between you, his mouth crashing against yours with renewed fervor. the kiss is more intense, more passionate than before—his tongue pushing into your mouth, tasting the wetness he left there. he groans into the kiss, the sound vibrating against your lips, and you can’t help but respond, your body arching into him as the sensation overwhelms you.
his hands roam over your body, one sliding down to grip your waist, pulling you closer, while the other wraps around the back of your neck, holding you in place as he devours you. every touch, every movement feels amplified, the intimacy of the act sending jolts of electricity through your veins. the world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you, lost in the intensity of the moment.
his hands continue their exploration, moving with purpose as if mapping out every inch of you. the kiss deepens, tongues tangling, sloppy and wet, the taste of him mixed with the lingering flavor of weed. you’re both lost in it, the world around you disappearing as you give in to the overwhelming need to be closer.
taeyong’s fingers find the hem of your shirt, slipping beneath it, his touch cool against your heated skin. he moves with practiced ease, his fingers tracing the curve of your waist, sending shivers through your body. he pulls you even closer, his grip firm, possessive, as his lips trail away from your mouth, down to your jaw, then your neck. each kiss is slow, deliberate, as if he’s savoring the taste of you, the feel of your skin under his lips.
you’re trembling in his arms, the anticipation nearly unbearable as his hand moves lower, brushing against the waistband of your jeans. he pauses, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, “is this okay?” his voice is rough, thick with desire, and the sound of it sends another wave of heat coursing through you.
you nod, your breath coming in short, shallow gasps as his fingers dip below the fabric, teasing at first, just skimming over your skin. the anticipation builds with every light touch, every brush of his fingers, until finally, he slips his hand fully inside, his fingers finding their way to where you need him most.
a broken moan escapes your lips as his fingers start to move, slow at first, then with more intent, curling just right. the sensation is overwhelming, a perfect mix of pleasure and desperation that has your hips bucking against his hand, seeking more, needing more. his thumb finds your clit, circling it in time with the movements of his fingers, drawing out another moan from deep in your throat.
“fuck,” taeyong murmurs against your neck, his voice thick with want. “you’re so fucking wet.”
his words send a fresh wave of arousal flooding through you, and you can’t help but grind against his hand, desperate for more friction, more contact. his free hand moves to your waist, guiding your movements as he continues to work you with his fingers, each stroke bringing you closer to the edge.
your hands are fisted in his shirt, holding on as the pleasure builds, every nerve in your body on fire. your breath comes in ragged pants, each exhale a soft whimper of his name, and you can feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter in your belly, ready to snap.
but just as you’re about to tip over the edge, just as everything starts to blur at the edges, the lights outside the studio flick on, cutting through the haze of your desire like a knife.
your eyes snap open, heart pounding in your chest, as the haze of desire is replaced by a sudden surge of panic. the tension that moments ago had been pulling you toward bliss now pulls you back into a harsh, cold awareness. the lights outside the studio door flicker on, casting long, eerie shadows that stretch across the floor, and the unmistakable sound of footsteps echoes down the hallway.
you freeze, your breath hitching in your throat as the implications of what’s happening slam into you. taeyong’s fingers still inside you, the sudden halt in movement almost as shocking as the light itself. he’s frozen too, his eyes wide, pupils blown with a mixture of lingering desire and dawning realization.
for a split second, neither of you move. time seems to stretch, the moment suspended in the air between you, thick with the remnants of your shared heat and the cold shock of interruption. the footsteps grow louder, closer, each one pounding in your ears like a drumbeat, driving home the reality of your situation.
taeyong is the first to react, pulling his hand away from you with a speed that makes your body jolt in surprise. the sudden absence of his touch is almost painful, the loss of contact leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable. he scrambles to sit up straight, his face a mask of concentration as he tries to compose himself, though his chest still heaves with the effort of regaining control.
you follow suit, hands shaking slightly as you try to adjust your clothes, your mind racing to catch up with what’s happening. your body is still thrumming with unfulfilled desire, every nerve on edge, but the urgency to cover up, to hide what was happening, takes precedence. you quickly smooth down your shirt, your fingers fumbling with the fabric as you force yourself to breathe, to act natural, even as your heart continues to hammer in your chest.
the door creaks open, the sound slow and agonizing, and you barely have time to exchange a panicked glance with taeyong before johnny steps into the room. his eyes sweep over the two of you, taking in your flushed faces, your disheveled appearance, the way you’re both sitting just a little too rigidly.
for a moment, there’s silence. johnny’s gaze lingers on you, then on taeyong, and you can see the wheels turning in his mind, trying to piece together what he just walked into. but then, his expression shifts, the corners of his lips quirking up into a smirk, completely oblivious to the charged atmosphere he’s interrupted.
“were you guys smoking weed without me?” he asks, his tone mock-offended, though there’s a playful light in his eyes. he steps further into the room, completely unaware of the tension that lingers in the air, or the way your heart is still racing, your body still humming with the remnants of what could have been.
as johnny settles onto the couch beside you, you steal a glance at taeyong. his face is a careful mask, but his eyes flicker with something unsaid. your breath hitches, a subtle reminder of how close you were, how close you still are.
taeyong shifts slightly, his knee brushing against yours in the small space. the touch is fleeting, barely there, but it sends a jolt through you, a silent promise that this isn’t over. not by a long shot.
you quickly look away, focusing on the other blunt as johnny picks it up.
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