a look back at yours and taemin's relationship over the years- from being young rookies in the industry keeping your relationship hidden, to being the industry's favorite couple
pairing. lee taemin x reader genre. fluff warnings. n/a word count. 402 note. short and sweet! hope you like! tysm for requesting :)
You met Taemin during the album release party for his first solo album. you didn't know much about him, but since you were both under SM entertainment at the time, and his group was notably more popular than yours, your management convinced you to go. Somehow, you and Taemin ended up getting shoved into a photoboth together- a move from your manager in an attempt to get you and your group some exposure.
But despite the awkward situation, you and Taemin actually hit it off almost instantly. He was actually just your type- a little offbeat, his personality separating him from the rest, with big brown eyes and a gorgeous smile, you were instantly a goner.
You kept your relationship a secret for a while, a decision ultimately made by your fear of getting harassed by crazy "fans". But it made things more fun in the beginnings stages; the sneaking around SM headquarters, stealing kisses behind closed doors, donning disguises to attend each others shows.
You wish you could say that the relationship becoming public was a gradual thing- maybe a few leaked pictures, spottings at each others shows, smiling a bit too much when the other wins an award- but no. It happened during an interview a few years into your relationship. Taemin was doing a solo interview while promoting Shinee's 1of1 album when the interviewer asked if he was in a relationship. Normally, Taemin would say no, his minimal media training working for him. But through a stupid slip of the tongue, he said "yes."
The whole industry was turned on its head after that simple word. The fans went insane online (and in person, they practically mobbed the SM building), both of your management teams working double time to try and figure out a solution. In the end, they decided honesty is the best policy, and you and Taemin confirmed your relationship two days later.
Fast forward to today, after a decade of love, several collabs, a few breakup rumors, and multiple awards dedicated to each other, you're still going strong. Despite the many people that said it wouldn't work, the media starting rumors, the hate trains on Twitter- none of that mattered.
You went from young rookies running around trying to keep your relationship hidden from the world, to two confident successful veterans proudly displaying your love. No matter the circumstance, you and Taemin were in it forever...
Warning(s) - Taemin breaks into your apartment multiple times, slight violence, making out with Taemin, small injury (reader bites him lol), blood, hickeys, swearing
Summary - As a designer for a luxury brand, you’ve dealt with theft before, but never a thief who leaves kisses like fingerprints. Taemin slips through shadows and silk, stealing more than couture and designs as he draws you further into a dangerous game of desire.
Word Count - 4.0k
Author’s Note - It seems only fitting that a Taemin fic titled Criminal would be about him stealing luxury items like how he did to Kibum LMAO
Taglist - @k-vanity @cosyhomenet (fill out this google form if you'd like to be added!)
Written for The Mirror of Erised Collab hosted by @taem-min-archived.
Now playing: Criminal - Taemin, Heaven - Taemin, Sherlock - SHINee
As you arrive home after a long day of work, you let out a sigh of relief as you plop your heavy folder and bag onto the kitchen table. The contents of the folder splay out the slightest bit, your sketches for Gucci’s newest Spring and Summer collections, but you’re too tired to care, already heading to your bedroom and slipping into the shower, all too eager to wash away the day's stress. With deadlines for the new collection coming up, you had superiors hounding you for designs, but creativity cannot be rushed.
Once you finished showering, you began the familiar, soothing tasks of your night routine. Having dinner while watching a show, doing the dishes, brushing your teeth, and most importantly, choosing your outfit for tomorrow. As a rising designer for Gucci, there was nothing more important than dressing for the part. Everyone in your department showed up to work dressed to the nines, but it only made sense.
After setting aside your meticulously planned outfit, you finally slide under the covers of your bed as sleep calls your name. Checking your phone one last time, you set it down on the nightstand next to your bed and settle in for yet another night, hoping for a restful sleep before yet another day at work.
As you begin to drift off, feeling your consciousness slip from reality, a noise jolts you back to your senses. It sounded like it came from nearby, maybe within your apartment. But that’s impossible. You remember locking the doors and closing the windows before you went to sleep. It was probably not a big deal. Perhaps it was just a pillow that fell off the couch. Telling yourself that it’s not a big deal, you manage to persuade your body to calm down enough to attempt falling asleep again.
It almost worked until you heard a small thump. Definitely from somewhere in your apartment and definitely not a pillow falling off the couch. You thought up scenarios of different things that could have made the sound. A jacket falling off a hanger? A trinket rolling off a shelf? A shoe sliding off the rack? Plausible.
You were nearly convinced that it was just your apartment playing tricks on you, but then you heard the rustling. Rustling of papers…coming from the kitchen…your designs. You remembered the folder of your designs that you haphazardly threw onto the kitchen table when you first returned home, not bothering to clean them up because you were so tired.
Sitting up carefully, trying your hardest to remain silent as a feeling of dread took hold in your chest, praying to whatever high power was above, you hoped that it was just your papers being blown around by some stray air current caused by the lazy construction of the building. But in the case that someone was in your apartment, going through your designs and threatening the upcoming collection…you looked around for something to protect yourself and your designs.
As a designer for a luxury brand, you had heard stories about thieves breaking into the warehouses and offices. Your coworkers told you those accounts as if they were ghost stories, meant only to scare new hires into protecting their work and their valuables. You had seen the emails the company sent out whenever there was a report of a break-in, but none of that prepared you for your own encounter with a luxury thief.
You picked up your water cup from the nightstand, not sure what you were going to do with it, but decided it was the closest you were going to get to a weapon or at least a diversion. Creeping closer and closer to your bedroom door, you tried to listen for any more sounds coming from the other side of the door. The faint sound of papers being rifled through continued, and you were sure that it was coming from the kitchen, exactly where you left your designs.
Your hand softly gripped the doorknob as you pondered what your next move would be if there was indeed someone in your apartment. Would you splash the intruder with the water in your cup? Would you pour it on your designs to stop them from being stolen? What if the designs were already photographed and being sent to another brand? What if-
You heard footsteps. And they were growing closer. You watched the shadows shift from the crack at the bottom of your door. The footsteps stopped right in front of your bedroom door. It was now or never. You swung the door open, hitting whoever was standing on the other side, and you doused them with the water in your cup, hoping to earn at least a few seconds to get a hold of the situation.
The intruder fell against the wall, staggering from the impact of the doo,r and you took in their appearance. Male, wearing all black from head to toe (mayhaps a fashion faux pas), their face covered by a black ski mask, broad shoulders with a slender waist tapering into long, slim legs. On another day, if you had seen this person in any place aside from your apartment under the current circumstances, you might have considered going up to them to recruit them as a model.
His eyes flutter underneath the mask as he struggles to pull himself together. You were stuck between dealing with the intruder and going to check on your designs. The man in front of you had seemingly nothing on his person, no bag, no case to carry your hard work away. That must mean he had already taken pictures of them. Against your better judgment, you dashed to your kitchen, needing to know whether or not the papers were still on the table.
When you slid around the corner to the kitchen, you saw your folder with papers spilling out of it. Your sketches were laid haphazardly on the surface of the table, most of their contents fully exposed to any person who was lucky enough to lay eyes on them. With the way they were positioned, you knew the intruder had stolen pictures of them, rendering these papers of no use anymore.
You ran back out from the kitchen and into the hallway, determined to catch the man and delete whatever images he had on his phone. But he was gone. The hallway was empty, devoid of any person aside from yourself. You carefully made your way through your apartment, searching through your bedroom, bathroom, living room, even your closets and cupboards. Everything was in its place except for the coat missing from the back of your armchair. The coat that was from the 2024 Fall and Winter collection that the head designer had gifted to you after you commented on how flawless the draping was.
Double-checking the locks of your windows and doors, you found that they were all locked, leaving no trace of how the thief entered or exited. You hadn’t gotten a face, a name, or any evidence to prove that your intellectual property had been stolen. There was no way you were going to sleep tonight.
When you arrived at work the following morning, you were met by words of concern from your coworkers upon seeing the dark circles that outlined your eyes. You did not sleep a wink that night, no matter how hard you tried.
Yet it was not sleep that you yearned for. It was answers. You were dying to know who that man was, how he entered your apartment, how he exited, and just what the hell he wanted with your designs? How did he find you? How did he know that you worked for Gucci?
Your coworkers laughed at you for all the overthinking you did, chalking it up to a lack of sleep. Perhaps you imagined the whole thing. Maybe there wasn’t a man in your apartment after all. Surely, you had just been so exhausted from work that it was all just a bad dream.
When you returned home that day, your mind had been put at ease by your coworkers, all of their hypothetical scenarios having flooded your mind enough to force it into believing that there was no thief. You went through the normal motions of your regular night routine, except this time, you made sure to tidy up your design folder and tuck it back into your work bag.
You closed the bag with a slight smile, feeling the slightest bit foolish at your antics, because if there was no thief, then surely there was no reason to be doing this. But you couldn’t help it. You all but jumped into bed, your eyes begging to be put to rest. The sheets tangled in your legs as you finally grew comfortable and felt the signs of sleep taking over. Then you heard it. You heard something thump in your apartment. Really? The second night in a row? Were you really that easy of a target for them?
This time, you were prepared. You grabbed a heavy, studded necklace with sharp points on the centerpiece off your vanity, along with a pair of fabric scissors. Moving swiftly, you exited your bedroom and ghosted down the hallway towards your kitchen. Empty. No sketches on the table, no papers in sight. This couldn’t be.
Then you heard your designs calling to you from the living room, the rustling sounds of your paper catching your ear. Cautiously, you left the kitchen, floating down the hallway to the living room, and there he was.
The intruder sat lounging on your couch, your sketches in hand, as he rifled through them. He paused briefly, looking up at you and meeting your gaze before his lips pulled into a grin. “I was wondering when you’d find me.” The sound of his voice made the hairs on your arm raise, not out of fear, but from how smooth it was. He was calm, collected, maybe even elegant.
“Quite the repertoire you’ve got here,” he chuckled, throwing your papers onto the couch next to him. “How about you explain them to me?”
This man has got to be insane. “Who the hell are you?” You gritted out.
“The name’s Taemin,” the man said, his coy smile never leaving his face. “Please, come sit.” He motioned towards the armchair next to your couch. It was all so surreal, being told to sit in your own living room as if you were the guest, yet you obeyed, putting down the necklace and water onto the small table next to the chair. “I’d like to know your creative process, the thought behind these designs.”
“I’m not telling you,” you spit at him, your fingers gripping into the plush fabric of the chair.
Taemin chuckles. “It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me right now. We have all night.” You were frozen in your spot when he stood up. Fear rooted you to your spot, and you eyed his figure, trying to see if he had any weapons. You couldn’t tell if you were relieved or not to see that he had nothing in his hands, no bulky items hiding under his form-fitting clothing. When he swung a leg over the arm of your chair, his arm gripping the top of the back, effectively caging you in, your breath was caught in your chest.
It felt like everything in the world stood still as he hovered over you. When you finally looked up at Taemin, finding his eyes, you finally took a breath. You were overwhelmed by him. His deep, brown eyes, the light, clean, fresh scent of his fragrance, his dainty pink lips- No. “Why are you here?” You ask him, pulling yourself from falling down the gutter.
“I think you know the answer to that, darling.” Taemin stared down at you, his eyes boring into your soul. “I’m just here to pick apart your genius, get a glimpse into that brain of yours.”
“Who do you work for?” If you could get a company name or title, you would take it upon yourself to get justice.
Taemin pressed his forehead into yours with a laugh. “That doesn’t matter, dearest. It’s not about me right now. I want to know about you.”
“I’m not telling you jack SHIT!” You place your hands on his chest and attempt to push him off of you, but he is faster.
He drops his entire weight onto you, his knees falling to either side of your thighs, barely fitting in the seat of the armchair. His hands fell from the back of the chair to cup your cheeks. “You don’t have to tell me anything right now…I’ll be back.” Taemin’s lips brush against yours as he speaks, ending with the lightest kiss. You didn’t dare move, scared of what he would do if you kissed him back.
Taemin climbs off your lap, and you watch as he disappears into your bedroom, reemerging barely a second later with two of your handbags. “Hey! Put those down!” You shouted at him.
He brought a finger up to his lips, leaving you with a quiet “shhh” as he slipped out through your own front door. How rude of him. Taking your bags and using the door as if he lived here.
When the door clicked shut, you finally allowed yourself to breathe and collect yourself. Your mind worked at a million miles an hour, trying to piece together everything you knew. The man, called Taemin, slips in like a shadow at night, leaving behind nothing except the lingering scent of his expensive cologne while also stealing your designs and couture pieces. You had heard your fair share about luxury thieves. But none were as audacious or as infuriatingly charming as Taemin.
You show up to work the next morning equally as tired as the day prior, but you don’t tell your coworkers about Taemin. You didn’t want to tell them about him just yet. He was your little secret, your creative project. When you sat down at your desk, full of half-done sketches and notebooks of ideas, you got to work with more fire and fury than ever before.
Your designs sang of Taemin. Sleek, minimal, fully clad in black. The only accents on your pieces are gold or silver embellishments on the buckle of a belt, the button of a coat, or the clip of a bag. None of your designs matched with the Spring and Summer collection being developed, causing your fellow designers to cast a sideways glance at you, wondering just what was going on in your head.
Chaos reigned on your desk. The once light, floral pieces you were working on had been thrown aside for the hard, dark lines of your newest passion project. When 5 o’clock rolled around that day, you stashed your sketches into your bag and headed home with a twinge of excitement blooming in your chest.
After your arrival home, you followed your routine just as usual, eating dinner, washing up, and picking your ensemble for the following day. The only deviation from your routine was the way you left your folder of sketches on the couch, exactly where you had found Taemin the previous night.
You couldn’t deny that you were awaiting Taemin’s arrival. But what you were going to do once he was within the walls of your apartment…you had yet to figure that out. Use your designs as a ploy to catch him and report him? Offer your designs as ransom to leave you alone? Neither seemed enticing. Regardless, tonight was the night that you were determined to have him in your grasp.
When you heard the resounding creaks and groans of your furniture in the living room, your heart pounded. Sneaking out from your bedroom, you find your way to the living room in the dark, the thumping of your heart ringing in your ears. A wave of heat washes over you when you finally lay eyes on Taemin, clothed entirely in black, except this time, his attire had you freezing on the spot. He was without a mask.
Your eyes were glued onto his face, his arched eyebrows framing his sharp eyes, the strong slope of his nose, the curve of his lips– all of it made your heart race. Not from fear, but from the way his head tilted and lips pulled into a smirk before he closed the space between the two of you.
Taemin moved as silently as a ghost, approaching you briskly until his lips were close enough to steal your breath. His hands floated over your waist, barely touching you, and yet you swore you could feel the heat radiating off his skin. He stayed there, just millimeters away from you. Within your reach, all for your taking. “You should really strengthen your security,” Taemin rasped, his voice low while his lips brushed against yours.
You should strengthen your security. You should report him. But you didn’t, and instead, you kissed him.
You closed the almost nonexistent space between your bodies, bringing your lips fully against him and allowing your hands to find their way up to his broad shoulders. Without missing a beat, Taemin reciprocated your actions, leaning into your touches and his own hands finally landing on your hips. His lips moved in tandem with yours, biting and licking the soft flesh whenever you gave him the opportunity. You let out a soft moan when he dug into a particularly sensitive spot, and Taemin took the opening of your mouth as a chance to allow his tongue to slip in. You fought back with your own, delivering a particularly hard nip to his bottom lip to establish your dominance. He gasped, pulling away with heavy breaths, his eyes wide and pupils blown out.
The glint of fluid on his lips caught your eye, the mix of saliva and blood glistening under the moonlight shining in from the window. Your hand trailed up from his shoulder, up the side of his neck, across the ridge of his jaw, and onto the swollen skin of his lips. Running your fingers across the inflamed skin, you pressed gently against where the blood was pooling. “Sorry,” you whisper, just loud enough for the two of you to hear it.
“Don’t be,” Taemin responded before leaving a kiss on your fingers. “I’ll treasure it. Proof that I was here.”
He dives in for another kiss, aiming for your lips, but you turn away at the last second, causing his lips to fall upon your cheek instead. “Why are you here?” You ask him, determined to get your answers this time around.
Taemin chuckled as his thumb wiped the smidge of spit and blood from your cheek. “For you.”
Your eyes bore into his, and you raised an eyebrow inquisitively. “Not the designs?”
He shook his head. “Not this time.” You couldn’t deny the way your heart fell at his words, thinking about how you toiled at work earlier in the day, drawing countless sketches just from his very image. Taemin watched the way your expression changed. “Something on your mind, beautiful?”
“It’s nothing.”
His gaze left yours as he turned away to look upon the couch where your folder of papers sat. “Did you want me to take a look at your designs again? See what new treasures you came up with?” He turned back to face you with a mischievous glint in his eye. “Did you leave them for me?”
You nodded, your hands sliding down to his chest, giving him a gentle push to sit down on the plush cushions. He followed your gestures and fell backwards next to the folder, his hands never leaving your hips as he dragged you down on top of him. You straddled his lap, leaning back just enough room for him to pick up the thick folder, opening it up to reveal the bold, dark lines of your work. He flipped through them, his fingers tracing along where your pencil had driven deep and hard into the paper. “These are splendid.” You bit your lip at the praise, your heart soaring. “But I must admit, it’s unlike anything you’ve made recently.”
He looked up at you from the papers, finding you already staring down at him. “They’re for you.”
“For me, darling? You shouldn’t have.” Taemin’s lips curled into a smile as he set the folder aside, freeing his hands so they could grip your waist. His attention turned to your neck, his lips latching on and sucking harshly. You threw your head back, giving him even more surface area to leave his marks. His lips trailed down the column of your neck, down to your collarbones, ending at the hem of your shirt sitting right at your sternum. He finally pulled away when he was satisfied with his creations, the dark splotches blooming on your skin. “Everything about you is so divine, you don’t even know.”
You leaned into him, your hands tangling in his hair as your head fell into the crook of his neck, copying his actions. You left your own marks on Taemin’s pale skin as he arched into you. He moaned when you sucked on the area right beneath his ear and you felt him tense up beneath you. You pulled away quickly, eyes scanning across his face.
“W-we can’t-” he stuttered. “We can’t do this.”
“Why not?” You ask, hands coming to cup his cheeks the same way he did to you the night before. “You’re my muse.”
Taemin heaved a broken sigh, pulling your hands away from his face. “Trust me.”
Your shoulders sagged in defeat, and you swung your leg off of him so that you could sit next to him. “You’re right. We shouldn’t.”
Neither of you looked at each other as he stood and made his way to the door. “We shouldn’t,” he echoed, his voice a shadow of yours. Just like that, he was gone like a whisper of silk, leaving you nothing to remember him by except the throbbing patches of his work. Likewise, he took your marks because the truth is, you weren’t the only one who couldn’t stop thinking about the previous night.
You sink into the couch, allowing the cushions to suck you in. What was one to do when their muse is a thief? You adjusted to fully lie down when you realized your folder was gone. Taemin had taken the designs…and one of your Gucci-branded throw pillows.
Night after night, Taemin returns, slipping into your apartment through whatever unknown means, pressing you against million-dollar velvet and lace, taking what he wants and leaving you breathless. Despite every warning in your mind, you allow him to do all of it.
“What will my favorite robber do once he’s stolen every designer item from here?” You tease through heavy breaths as Taemin pushes you down against the satin sheets of your bed.
His ever-charming smirk appears once more. “I’m not a robber.”
“But you are.” You gasp as he hovers above you, and his lips kiss their way up from your exposed collarbones to your jaw.
Taemin pauses after leaving a kiss on the corner of your lips, lingering there as if he were being tempted to steal yet another kiss from you. “Darling, I fear you’re mistaken,” he began, his soft lips moving against your skin and making you arch into his touch. “A robber uses force or the threat of force to steal.” His hands caress the curves of your body, treasuring every bit that you allow him to. “A thief steals without such force.” Your breath caught in your throat as he began to leave love bites over the expanse of your skin. “And with you? I don’t even have to ask.”
The real theft isn’t the luxury pieces he takes, or even your designs. It’s the way he’s stealing your heart.
Autoplay: If you liked this, you may also like Groove - K.Jongin
The second you say it—“이거 뭐야?”—and look up at me with that mix of bravado and fear, something settles in my chest like a lock clicking shut.
“Baby…” I slide my hand to your jaw, warm and steady. “You’re my girlfriend. 내 여자.” I don’t blink when I say it. I don’t hedge. “No guessing. No maybe. I’m here.”
You try to turn it into a joke, because that’s what you always do when you’re overwhelmed with a big feeling, but I don’t let you run from it. Not this time. My thumb drags across your lower lip, slow. “Say it back,” I murmur, eyes on yours. “Then I’ll kiss you.”
You swallow, tiny nod. “Your girlfriend.” That’s it. The gravity changes in the room.
I kiss you like a promise—and like a problem I don’t want to solve. Gentle first, then deeper when you sigh into my mouth. Your fingers curl in my shirt and I pull you into my lap like you belong there (you do). The world outside the curtains—neighbourhood noise, a distant bus —goes fuzzy. I can feel your heartbeat through your chest to mine, rabbit-fast, and it sends a shot of pride through me so hard I have to laugh against your sweet lips. “Look at you,” I whisper. “My girl. My y/n.“
You whisper, “탬,” and my control thins to silk. “Don’t,” I breathe, forehead pressed to yours, smile wrecked. “Say my name like that and I won’t stop.”
I don’t stop anyway. Why would I?
I kiss you the way I dance—tempo shifts, control, then the slip. Mouth to mouth, then I angle to your cheek, your jaw, the hollow just under your ear that makes your breath catch. “여기 좋아해?” (You like it here?) You nod, a little gasp, and I file it away: cartography of you, y/n. You like it when I grab your waist. You melt when I slide a hand up your spine. You go quiet when I kiss the soft place under your ear, and you claw at me (God, yes) when I mouth the side of your throat. “Hickeys?” I murmur, smile curving. “Say yes.”
“Yes,” you breathe, small and dangerous. “Good girl.” I keep it tasteful—slow, claiming, not too dark—and then I kiss where I’ve marked, soothing. “Mine,” I tell your soft skin, not because I need to hear it, but because maybe you do. “내 사람.”
You’re shy to dance with me, always, even though you love to dance—so I don’t ask. I just put on a slow song (yeah, “1 of 1” is queued next, because of course) and stand, keeping your small hands in mine, pulling you up into me. “No choreography,” I say, mouth against your temple. “Just this. Just us.“ We sway in my living room, your cheek under my chin, my palm sliding lazy circles at the small of your back. I feel you unclench minute by minute, your shoulders dropping, your breath syncing with mine. “You feel that?” I whisper. “That’s us. No shoe dropping. Just us.”
You tip your head back to look at me and I’m a goner. I kiss you again, slower now, like I’m sipping something expensive. When you smile into my mouth, I lose the plot and laugh. “누나… 진짜 미치겠다.” (Noona… I’m actually going crazy.) I mean it like worship.
I make you ginger tea in the kitchen without letting go for long—my fingers never leave your hip, your wrist, the hem of your shirt, like I have to keep you tethered. You sit on the counter, legs open, and I step between them, bracing one hand on the cupboard, the other around your waist. You’re watching me, eyes soft, and the urge to take care of you hits hard. “Had dinner?” I ask. You shake your head. I’m already on it—garlic, eggs, rice, quick and warm. “Not your nationality‘s treasure, but chef’s kiss,” I tease, feeding you the first bite with the chopsticks. You roll your eyes, pretending not to be charmed, but you take the bite and hum, and now I’m grinning like an idiot because your happy sounds are my new drug. “Better than being cool,” I say when you catch me smiling. “I’d rather be yours.”
On the couch again, I tuck my hair behind my ear—your “Korean long” comment lives rent-free in my head—let you card your fingers through it. You always do when you’re half-shy, half-feral. “Touch me,” I murmur, guiding your hand to the nape of my neck. “Like that.” Your nails scrape lightly and I shiver, eyes closing. “Christ, y/n.” I open them again because I want to see your face when I say this next part. “I know your past. I heard you. I’m not leaving. Stop looking for the exit when I’m trying to walk in.”
You go quiet, but the kind of quiet that means you’re listening. So I keep going, softer. “You think you’re hard to love.” I kiss the slope of your cheek. “But all I know how to do is want you.” Another kiss at your jaw. “Want you when you’re loud, when you’re quiet, when your stubborn Virgo-brain is manifesting the moon.” A smile against your skin. “I’ve been eating grapes under tables for years and didn’t even know why.” (You laugh, that snort you do when you’re trying not to, and I beam like I won something important.) “Turns out it was you.”
You pull me closer and I don’t make you say thank you with words. I let you say it with your mouth. I kiss you until you stop bracing for goodbye.
We drift toward the bedroom because gravity says so. Not rushed. I keep checking your eyes, your breath, your yes. I’m a menace, yeah—but I’m careful with what I care about. At the edge of the bed, I pause and tip your chin up with one finger. “Color?” I ask softly. (You roll your eyes at me, but the way you relax says it lands.) “Blue,” you whisper, and then you’re pulling me down.
What happens next isn’t a movie montage. It’s two people learning each other. It’s my mouth finding the places that make your back arch, and your hands finding the places that make my breath stutter. It’s me worshiping your tummy—yes, the one you say you hate—kissing it slow, telling you, “이 부분… 내가 제일 좋아해.” (This part… I like it the most.) It’s you going quiet and a little wet-eyed for a second, and me kissing that expression away. It’s your pretty eyes blowing wide when I tell you, plain and honest, “You’re exactly my type,” and then prove it with patience and a little menace, the kind that makes you gasp my name and clutch at the sheets. It’s the kind of heat that feels like home, where I don’t have to posture and you don’t have to pretend.
After, I do the small things that say more than speeches. Warm cloth. Water. My hoodie—“territorial behavior,” you accuse, smiling, as you tug it on; I shrug, unashamed. “Facts.” I press a kiss to your temple. You burrow into me, thigh over mine, your hand on my chest like you’re testing if I’m still there. I am. I always am.
You’re not a morning person. So I set your alarm, then set another for me two minutes earlier so I can wake you with kisses instead of a siren. I put water on the nightstand and a note under the glass where you’ll find it: No more ‘what are we.’ We are. A stupid little heart because I’m younger and cocky enough to get away with it. When you roll, half-asleep, to hide your face in my neck, I whisper, “내 사람.” (My person.) You answer in your drowsy native tongue that melts my spine and I have to bite my lip like a teenager.
Sometime around 3 a.m., you stir, the old fear flickering across your face like a shadow of a bad dream. I feel it happen. I always do. My hand rubs slow circles on your back, my mouth finds your hairline. “Shh,” I murmur. “I’m not a ghost. I don’t disappear.” You breathe out, long and shaky, and I press your palm to my heartbeat. “See? Still here.”
Morning in our city is grey-blue and soft. I slip out just long enough to grind beans, make your coffee exactly the way you like it, leave it where your hand will find it before your eyes fully open. I crawl back under the covers, cold hands on your warm waist, and you squeal, smacking my shoulder. I take the hit, laughing, and then I’m kissing you good morning like I promised—sweet, unhurried, plenty. “좋은 아침, girlfriend,” I murmur into your smile.
You squint at me. “We’re really doing this?”
I tip my head, pretend to think. Then I nod like a judge. “Yes. Sentence: unlimited kisses, public hand-holding, me singing badly in your kitchen, jealousy rights when men stare too long, and…” I lean in, drop my voice. “The right to tell me when you need gentler, and the right to demand when you want rougher.” Your eyes spark; I kiss the corner. “All appeals denied.”
You tug me close by the hoodie strings and kiss me like you mean it. I groan, happy and gone. “Look what you did,” I complain softly, but I’m already rolling over you, bracing on my forearms, hair falling around us like a curtain. Your fingers push it back, and I swear I could live in this exact moment forever.
We spend the day the way new lovers do when the question mark is gone and the exhale finally arrives. We walk along the river with your hand in my pocket and mine around your waist because I like you tucked into me. You point out dogs; I point out sunlight in your hair. You make fun of my playlist until I put on the exact song you were going to request and pretend it was your idea. We read horoscopes at a café; I scoff at mine and take yours dead seriously. We plan trips we haven’t booked and dinners we haven’t cooked. At crosswalks, I press kisses into your hair; in shop windows, I watch you watching yourself and mutter, “우와… 진짜 예쁘다,” (wow… you’re really beautiful) like it’s new information every time.
And every time that old doubt tries to creep in—when a car door slams too loud, or your phone lights up and you hesitate like you’re bracing—I’m there. A hand on your lower back. A look that says I see you. A kiss you feel in your knees. “No exits,” I remind you, grinning. “I’m already inside.”
That night, when we’re back at my place and you curl into me on the couch, I pull a folded page from the coffee table and slide it into your hand. It’s messy, written between dance drills and thoughts of you:
We are.
You asked me what this is. It’s me waking up and wanting your face before sunlight. It’s me dancing better because you exist. It’s me worshiping the tummy you think I shouldn’t love and loving it more out of spite. It’s me learning your native pet names and your favorite noodles and the exact pressure to put on your hips when you’ve had a day. It’s you, all of you. It’s home.
You read it, then look at me like I hung the moon, and I have to hide my face in your neck because I’m younger and pathetic for you. You laugh, that bright sound, and tug my hair. “Come here,” you say, and I do, because there’s nowhere else I’m ever going.
Later, in the dark, I trace the outline of your lips with my thumb and whisper the truest thing I know in both languages, so there’s no way you can miss it. “You’re my only one. 진짜 1 of 1.” You smile without opening your eyes, say, “I know,” and tuck your cold toes under my calf like you own me.
You do.
And when sleep finally takes you, I stay awake a little longer, kissing your forehead, memorizing the peace on your face, thinking how insane it is that a man can pray for something his whole life without a name for it—and then one night in a club, there you are, laughing like trouble, tasting like forever, asking me a question I get to answer every day:
Prompt: You just need to be patient. You can’t expect everything to happen perfectly the first time. That just isn’t fair.
You looked at Taemin, then the pile of clay shaped like a dick, then back at him. “I don’t want it to be perfect. Just less…dildo-y.”
He hid his mouth behind his arm and laughed. “Okay. I can show you how to shape it. Is it okay if I stand behind you?”
“Sure. I’ll do anything to end up with something I can actually show my mom.”
He came around the table and stood behind you, resting his chin on your shoulder lightly as his hands ghosted down your arms to your hands. His breath gently blew across your cheek as he guided you. “You were doing great. Kept it wet and centered.” He started the wheel and dipped your hands into the bowl of water. “But maybe you could use your left hand for force and use your right for support.” He pushed your hand and demonstrated the force needed. “And you go faster when centering than you do when shaping.” Once the clay turned into a dome, he pressed your thumbs into the center. “See? Just like that!” he said, his voice a mix of encouragement and mischief. You could feel the warmth radiating from him as he adjusted your grip, and it was hard to focus on the clay with all the sensations swirling around you.
“Okay, okay, I think I get it,” you replied, trying to suppress a giggle while concentrating on not ruining the dome shape. “But this still looks like something I wouldn’t want my mom to see.”
Taemin chuckled softly. “Maybe we should aim for ‘abstract art’ instead of realism then,” he teased. “The key is to embrace the imperfections.” He leaned in closer so you could hear him over the whirring wheel. “Just remember—if it doesn’t look good at first, we can always squish it back down and start again.”
You nodded, feeling more at ease with each wheel rotation under your hands. The rhythm was therapeutic. Even if your creation wasn't museum-worthy yet, you were having fun experimenting with shapes and forms alongside Taemin’s playful guidance. As minutes passed and laughter filled the air from playful jabs about your artistic choices, something clicked into place—not just in terms of clay, but also in how comfortable you were sharing this moment with him. Maybe crafting imperfect dildos wasn’t such a bad way to spend an afternoon after all.
he loves the warmth but not as much as when you heat his body up with your own
thinking about how needy your boyfriend gets during this time of year, this weather got him on something else. When you are out on a girls spooky movie-marathon night, he never minded when you would go out but when you would actually be out was when he would feel bored out of his mind, not having anyone to bother. He wanted to be with you every second of the day and always made sure you knew that.
He would follow you on a shopping spree to help you choose your next date night dinner outfit or what decor to buy for fall. He felt very comfortable being around you when you would shop for your liking, letting his masculinity energy go and feminine self enter.
He never felt like the type of man to do these thing but he was just with the wrong person.
Every morning this month, when you would get coffee he would join you, even getting himself a drink to start the day right.
He loved watching you set up the place, helping you with the decorations that would hang off the ceiling— being your personal ladder. You watching him hang up fall decor while you make tea for you both. Once he finishes, you lay back on the couch that’s filled with new cushions and throwing blankets you bought at hobby lobby.
He gets exited when you ask him if he wants to go to a pumpkin patch and pick some out to carve out for the outside of your house, he obviously agrees and gives you as much time you need to get ready.
Genre/Rating: 21+, established relationship, idol!AU, smut, angst, and fluff
Summary: Jimin and Jungkook play tennis, and Jimin makes a (not so) surprising discovery.
Warnings: Brief mentions of addiction and rehab visits.
WC: 1.3K
Author's Note: I'm posting this on Christmas so happy holidays to all that celebrate! And for those who don't, happy Wednesday!
Song Of The Chapter: Charlie Puth- How Long
"You know, I don't know what the fucking problem is," Jimin grunted as he used his tennis racket to smack the ball across the court to Jungkook. The two of them were having their tennis session that they tried to do at least once a month, as a way to both diversify their workouts and also catch up with each other. "She's not pregnant yet."
"Could we not talk about this right now?" Jungkook requested as he returned the ball and Jimin couldn't help but to smile at how winded Jungkook sounded. They did have to skip the last few tennis sessions because of their conflicting schedules so it wasn't surprising. "I'm trying to fucking beat you here, not worry about why your wife that you don't even wanna be with isn't pregnant yet."
"I do wanna be with her," Jimin rebutted. "And I'm serious about this, Jungkookie. Maybe there's something wrong."
"Maybe she's still on birth control," Jungkook pointed out and Jimin froze at that, causing the ball to fly right past him.
"What?" He huffed, setting his hands on his hips. "Why would you say that?"
"I mean, come on hyung," Jungkook sighed. "Just a month ago, the woman was very adamant about not having kids with you. Now, all of a sudden, she wants to have your baby?"
"People change their minds all the time."
"But she does it after she meets Kamaria and before she's able to notice that you weren't wearing your ring?" Jungkook reminded him. "To me, sounds like someone was a little threatened and I mean, who wouldn't be? Even a blind person can see the way you and Kamaria look at each other."
"Please, don't even bring up the ring thing," Jimin scoffed, walking away to pick up the tennis ball. "She chewed me the fuck out for that."
"Not surprising," Jungkook snickered. "You only cheated on her with your ex-girlfriend."
"I know," Jimin murmured as he walked up to the net where Jungkook was already standing.
"So like I said, maybe she's on birth control until she feels like she can trust you," Jungkook said.
"Should she even be trying to have a baby with someone that she doesn't trust though?"
"Should you be married to someone that you don't love?" Jungkook shot back and Jimin just looked at him before nodding.
"Touche."
"Speaking of though, have you talked to Kamaria lately?" Jungkook questioned and Jimin shook his head.
"Nope. She told me to have a nice life and we haven't talked since," he reported. "And that was, two or so weeks ago."
"Don't blame her for that," Jungkook shrugged. "I still can't believe she was even able to talk to you with a straight face. You going off and marrying Hye-ja was such a fucked up thing to do."
"Yes, I know Jungkookie."
"If I were her, I would've kicked your ass for it."
"Again, I know that, Jungkookie," Jimin chuckled. "But you have to remember, she's the one that left me. Not the other way around."
"And if you remember, she was well within her rights," Jungkook replied. "And again, if I were her, I would've left your ass sooner than she did."
"What is this, 'shit on Jimin just because you can't beat him in tennis' day?" Jimin wondered, making Jungkook laugh out loud.
"Maybe," he smirked. "You know, since I'm already annoying you, I might as well tell you this. You know she was seen out and about with Taemin the other day, right?"
"Hmm, really?" Jimin murmured, trying to seem as if it were news to him when it really wasn't. Jimin had seen the paparazzi photos of the two of them outside of Harbour, with Taemin holding Kamaria's hand. It definitely didn't piss him off or anything, though. At least, not that much.
"Didn't the two of them have a thing a few years back?" Jungkook wondered. "While we were in the military?"
"Hmm no, I don't recall that," Jimin shook his head and Jungkook smirked, knowing that his hyung was lying through his teeth.
"Well, in any case, they looked good together and most of twitter seems to agree," he told Jimin. "And most of Korea too, but that's neither here nor there."
"Stop fucking with me and just playing the god damn game," Jimin said as he threw the tennis ball at Jungkook, who caught it easily while laughing loudly.
"You know, if you're sick of talking to me about your problems, the hyungs give out much better advice than I do," Jungkook announced. "Why don't you just apologize to them?"
"And have to admit to my multiple wrongdoings?" Jimin huffed. "No thanks."
"They'd understand though," he replied. "They know now that it wasn't you talking, it was the pills and they'd understand."
"I had a hard enough time admitting to my bullshit with Kamaria after I got out of rehab," Jimin sighed. "I'm really not a fan of having to do the whole 'Forget everything I said because I was high out of my mind most of the time' conversation six more times."
"Rehab can help addiction but not egos, huh?"
"Unfortunately not," Jimin shook his head. "Your serve."
"Hye?" Jimin called out after he had walked into his house and toed his shoes off of his feet. He had noticed a few pairs of her heels near the door so he had hoped that she would be home and they'd be able to spend some time together.
"Jiminie?" Minhye smiled as she met him in the large hallway that connected the front door to the rest of the house.
"Hi Minhye," Jimin chuckled, leaning down and hugging her firmly. Minhye was a little 55 year old woman who worked for Jimin as his housekeeper. However, the longer that she was with him, the less work she seemed to do but Jimin didn't mind at all. She took good care of him, even when he was in the depths of his addiction, and he felt like he owed her so much.
"I wasn't expecting you to still be here," Jimin said as he pulled back from the hug.
"I'm picking up the grands today and their school is closer to here than my house so I thought I'd stick around for a little longer than usual," she explained. "I heard you calling for Hye-ja though, and she's not here."
"Do you know where she is?" He wondered. "She didn't call or text me to let me know."
"No idea, didn't ask."
"Minhye," Jimin admonished, even though he had a small smile on his face. It was no secret that Minhye did not like Hye-ja and though Hye-ja often tried to pretend otherwise, Jimin was pretty sure that the feeling was mutual.
"I'm not saying anything that I haven't already said to you," Minhye replied as she held her hands up in mock surrender. "The mail is on the kitchen counter for you and I've already made your dinner. All you have to do is heat it."
"Thank you," he told her, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to her cheek which made her smile widely. "Say hi to Haneul and Hei for me."
"Will do," Minhye smiled, fixing her purse on her arm before walking down the hallway and out the door. Jimin walked into the kitchen, grabbing the stack of mail off the counter and lazily glancing over them. As he did so, he noticed that one envelope was considerably thicker than the rest of them so when he pulled it out of the stack and held it on its own after putting the rest of the mail next to him, he saw that it was addressed to Hye-ja.
Admittedly, Jimin didn't know what he was expecting when he decided to open the envelope but nothing could've prepared him for the small white package that had been encased in the envelope.
Birth control pills.
"What the actual fuck?" Jimin muttered to himself.
Taemin as the most-loving-cute-affectionate husband&dad nothing else to add enjoy!
cr. for the photos: Jjakgoongie
Word count// 2,051 words
Pairing// Taemin x you
Summary// Cute moments with Taemin as parents of newborn baby girl, Taerinnie. (btw Taemin would make endless jokes when you call him Tae, showing with his daughter and asking 'what?' in the same time as they both share the same syllabe in names XD)
Genre// fluff
Warnings// talking about lactation, if you don't like pregnancy/ parenthood scenarios just don't read this ^^
MASTERLIST
You stirred in your sleep, absent-mindedly searching for Taemin who was supposed to lay in the bed next to you. He was usually there, that’s why you groaned under your breath and opened your eyes slightly, not feeling the familiar source of warmth next to you.
The bedding on his side was a little messy, which made you push yourself up on your hands, looking around. Light from the corridor streamed into the room through the slightly opened door, making you sure Tae hadn’t gone to the restroom.
You were so tired from getting up every two hours that you just put your head back on the pillow, with strong determination to wait until your husband come back. Then you wanted to just lock him into a bear hug and try to get some rest again. However, Taem didn't show up for a while, which forced you to finally get up from the bed.
You frowned as the light hit your eyes, sensitive from the darkness and took careful steps around the apartment. You catched a glimpse of your daughter’s room, sensing it could be the first place where Taemin went.
Taerinnie was born seven days ago, and your entire lives had been subordinated solely to her from the first moment. Your and Taem’s little sunshine needed a lot of care, which, combined with the exhaustion of pregnancy and childbirth, meant that you felt completely worn out all the time. Not to mention stress from being fledgling parents, afraid of every single thing happening around her.
Taemin, on the other hand, seemed filled with energy like never before. Smile never left his face, no matter how little he slept and how much he took over your household chores. Additionally, he never forgot to take care of you as well, praising you at least a few times a day. It seemed as if the expansion of your little family had practically given him wings, and you weren't surprised at all. As long as you could remember, for Tae there was always the right time to get married and have a baby, although seeing you didn't share his opinion, he never pressured you into anything.
You leaned carefully against the doorstep, noticing Taem sitting in your nursing chair with baby Taerin in his arms. You could only see a fragment of his profile, but clearly observe your little daughter, dressed in cute rompers and wrapped carefully in a light pink blanket. Her eyes, huge and dark, stared constantly at Taemin, and her adorable cheeks moved continuously as she sucked on the pacifier.
- Everything’s fine now, right? - a loving and warm voice broke the silence. - Did you just need a hug? It's okay, mommy and daddy will cuddle you as much as you want - he purred, rocking her delicately.
You smiled tenderly at the sight. There were times where you could see him taking care of children and how well he did it. But when it came to Taerin, he was simply the best dad you could imagine. Tae seemed to have infinite patience and enormous amounts of love, pouring it on his long-awaited daughter at every possible moment.
- We can't wake up mom every time, okay? - his fingertip touched her cute, tiny nose. - Mommy is very tired because she's feeding you and needs some sleep... But daddy can also take care of many things - Taemin’s voice sounded utterly satisfied. - You and I are a good team too - he chuckled softly to himself. You could see his cheeks lift into a smile as he stroked her little face gently, like a porcelain doll’s.
Taerinnie's eyes were becoming heavier and heavier each second, opening with difficulty, but she still listened calmly to what her dad had to tell her.
- How on earth did I deserve an angel like you, hmm? - Tae whispered pensively - I always thought that being with your mommy was like a dream come true, then I couldn't believe that mommy married me, and now… there’s you… I always knew you would be the most beautiful baby in the world, after all, you got it from y/n... She was so pretty when I fell in love with her, but why does she seem more gorgeous every day? - he titled his head a bit.
You felt as your cheeks flushed, and suddenly you felt shy standing there and listening to all of it. Taemin was always full of love, as if it was the first year of your relationship.
- You are like my two princesses... And I’m the one who loves you to death -Taem chuckled under his breath - Do you feel like sleeping already? - he asked, probably noticing how Taerinnie's eyelids finally drooped and her face became completely calm and carefree.
- Sleep well, you have to grow a lot - he pressed his lips on her forehead, observing her tiny body for a longer moment.
You moved away from the door, seeing him rise to put Taerinnie in her cradle. He made sure everything was fine, then turned off the light, carefully leaving the room.
- Oh, are you awake? - he asked, noticing you, obviously surprised.
- I woke up because you weren't in bed - you admitted cutely, walking up to Tae and just cuddling into him tightly.
- Taerinnie cried again - he explained himself and smiled fondly at your gesture, his arms embracing you strongly. - I decided not to wake you up because she didn't need to be fed... And we somehow managed to calm down on our own - Taemin said with satisfaction in his voice, and you glanced at him with a wide smile.
However, your eyes immediately went to the ends of his long hair that curled outwards. You reached for them carefully. - Taeminnie, your wings seem to be showing again - you muttered, teasing him a bit.
- Ah, come on - he rolled his eyes with pink shade coming to his cheeks. He reached his hands to your thighs and lifted you up. - This baby needs to sleep too - he purred lovingly, carrying you to the bed.
You let him make you comfortable on the pillow and cover you thoroughly with the duvet before he laid down next to you. His arms pulled you completely to him, leaving little space, and you could feel his warm breath near your ear.
Before closing your eyes, you tried to adjust your nursing bra a little, annoyed at having to wear it all the time. You couldn’t help but sighed loudly when you saw a small wet spot on your t-shirt. Actually, it was his piece of pajamas as you loved wearing it to sleep.
- I can't deal with this, really - you mumbled under your breath. You rolled up the fabric and struggled to correct the pads, which allowed you to forget, at least for a moment, about the way your breasts leaked milk at the slightest touch. Your body changes were quite hard for you to accept, maybe because Taemin seemed to be doing better than ever and despite passing years, he was still so handsome and hot.
- I need to change - you decided, trying to get up, but his hands didn’t let you do it, keeping you in place.
- Stay, don’t mind it - Taem asked in a low voice, his thumbs rubbing your side soothingly. - You'll still be getting up to feed Taerin - he added, and the tone of his voice suddenly became more worried. - Is it still the same?
- I think as long as I continue to breastfeed, it’ll look like this - you grumbled, clearly uneasy. - It's just... instead of a wife, you're hugging a cow at this moment - you tried to joke, chuckling hesitantly.
Taemin, however, wasn’t amused. - Don't talk about yourself like that - he chastened you in a serious tone. - You are still the most beautiful woman in the world. The most charming person I know. The sexiest one too - his hand slid slowly to your hip, which had been noticeably more rounder for several months now. - It's just… you smell… sweeter - he murmured affectionately, snuggling closer to you.
You gave him a side glance. - You're weird, you know that? - you cracked up at this unusual compliment.
Taem raised his head from the pillow, obviously outraged. - I'm just stating a fact, it's not weird - he hissed, lying down again immediately.
- Like asking if you can try my breast milk, not weird at all - you teased him, closing your eyes.
- Making sure Taerinnie likes it isn't weird either - Tae replied with confidence, but you could hear a slight laugh in his voice.
A comfortable silence fell between you as you tried to rest, knowing in the back of your mind that you’ll be woken up by crying again in an hour or two.
- I'm sorry - his thoughtful whisper echoed in your ear, making you gently open your eyes. - I know... it's difficult for you and... well, I was the one who wanted to have a baby of the two of us, and the reality is you're the one who has to deal with everything...
- It was our mutual decision - you interrupted him, speaking without doubt. - You just wanted it earlier, but that doesn't mean you wanted to have a baby more than I did.
- Well, yes... - he sounded inconsolable. - But... I guess… I didn't really know what it would look like... I see how tired you are. I wish I could take at least half of this stuff from you, but I can't…- the tip of his nose rubbed your cheek.
You decided to pull away slightly to look at him. - You actually do a lot of things to help me - you assured, looking into his concerned eyes. - And I'm grateful, really grateful, because I have your greatest support - you reached your hand to his cheek, stroking it tenderly.
- But... you're so damn tired - he stated the obvious, biting his upper lip gently.
You smiled fondly and closed the space between yours and Tae’s lips, pecking them sweetly. Currently, you didn't even have the strength to kiss each other more passionately, so your affection was limited only to hugging and rather innocent kisses.
- I'm so damn tired, and I love you both so damn much - you admitted with amusement.
- Hey, how could you say something like that to Taerinnie…? - he groaned indignantly. - What example are you going to give if you swear like that?
You rolled your eyes, taking a deep breath. - Okay, then I love you so damn much, and my love for Taerinnie is immeasurable - you muttered, annoyed by his comment. - Better?
- Better - Taem replied, satisfied with this answer.
- You actually have one task, one thing - you pointed your finger at him.
- What is this? - he stared at you with curious eyes.
- Just try to look for a younger girl without stretch marks and breasts that don't leak milk all the time, I'll strangle you - you threatened him, and Taemin bursted out into laugh.
- Ah, what are you talking about? - he whined loudly. - They're beautiful... just... - he tried to wrap his hand around them gently, but you hit it.
- No touching - you reminded him.
- No touching - he repeated with a mischievous smile, pecking your cheek.- I… just… kind of look forward to having them back…
You rubbed your eyelids with your fingers, trying not to laugh.
- Not only are you an idiot, you're also perverted - you commented, glancing at him again.
- Pff, if I weren't perverted, you wouldn't have such a little cute daughter - he kissed the side of your head a few times and corrected himself on the pillow. - I love you…- he murmured, making sure it came out as loveable as it could.
- I love you too - you answered tiredly, slowly falling asleep in the safest embrace of this world.
Lipstick Smudge
<< a [fluffy] taemin x reader scenario>>
For the anon who asked:
hii ^^ could you possibly write something for taemin where you guys are doing that chapstick challenge where you put on different chapsticks and he has to kiss you to guess what flavor it is. Or even that one tiktok trend where you smudge your lipstick and then he goes to fix it and the camera turns and he has lipstick marks all over his face. 🙏🙏
Reposting this because it's a shame it didnt pop up in tags.
You re-align your camera, trying to get a perfect view of the corner of your room. It was the only place that wouldn't have any reflection of the rest of your space. It wasn't that the 70% was dirty or unseemly for an influencer, but most of the time it was to hide the man with the shit eating grin, trying to distract you from creating any good content while he was around.
"Jagiya, I feel offended, you really are trying to hide me huh?" Taemin whines as he catched his hoodie with his face.
It has been 20 minutes since you tried to make sure that you were trying to hide items that might relate to him. Chucking items left and right, out of sight.
"You know, none of my stuff will link back to me...", he lets out a sigh, pouting as he sits on the other side of the phone setup, fiddling with various cases of lipbalms, with the labels frayed and torn off. "Beside you want to live stream don't you?"
It's no secret to those who follow you, that you have a boyfriend and make the excuse that he was the one who isn't interested in being in front of the camera and would rather support you from the side, hidden. Taemin smiled as he picks up of the chapstick and quickly swips the bullet against his lips, before making kissing noises, his lips puckered and pointed at you with that stupid smile on his face. "You're an idiot if you just want a kiss, an plus that's for the challenge!", you cried out halfheartedly as you slide into the seat with a spare phone in hand, ready to post a story that you were about to go on live soon.
For weeks, Taemin was very into the idea of at least making sure that your viewers didn't think you were full of shit by saying you had a boyfriend and just didn't want to show him off. Haters often comment that you were lying and you were completely 'motae solo'. Soon it went viral that you were single and delusional when in fact you had purposedly shoved Taemin into the bushes during one of your walks when Dispactch caught you walking at night by the Han River.
You re-adjust yourself in your seat, counting the numbers of people who had viewed your story before turning on your Insta live and sat back, waiting for your viewers to come in. Your fortnight lives was something that you enjoyed doing, whether it was cooking challenges or just late night pillow talk, you were appreciative of the fans who had swarmed in from TikTok, to join you in your lives.
Soon, you were greeting your followers, conversing with them through the comments they have left and began to introduce the fact that your partner was behind the camera, really wanting to do the chapstick challenge with you. Taemin had caused a ruckus by trying to slide one your indoor clothes line into view, with a perfectly draped sheet on it, so he could hide behind it.
Meanwhile, the comments were in a frenzy, saying how they had never heard you sound so relaxed and giggly before. Some comments were even teasing you to pull down the sheets so they could see your boyfriend. It came to the time where Taemin had reapplied the lipbalm he kept on hand, yelling at you to taste him already.
At his comment, you snorted and laughed, deeming his words as inappropriate because people might take it the wrong way.
"Yeobo, fine, shut up!" You laughed as you wheeled your chair towards the curtain and dart your head to peck his lips before popping out so the viewers could see you smack your lips, hmm-ing and haa-ing about the flavour.
"Cherry?"
"Oh? Is it? I don't know.." Taemin teased.
"What do you mean?", you asked bewildered, reaching back behind the curtains to grab the component out of his hand and reading the underside of it where you had written the flavour. "Ya. Lee-ssi, you need to read the bottom! The fans will get angry at you!", you laughed in defeat as Taemin lets out a loud giggle, enough for the fans to comment about it. "It was cherry by the way.", you speak to the camera.
You reached forward to grab another two unlabelled chapsticks, throwing one towards the back of the curtain for Taemin to catch as you apply one on yourself, the distinct smell and flavour should be easy for him. "All right, I'm ready.", you grinned before moving your head.
An aggravated groan left your throat as you saw Taemin, sheepishly applying the new flavoured balm on his lips. "Yah..", you put out a struggled smile as you were fully slumped into your seat, one hand on your face, massaging your temples. "It's supposed to be my turn, for you to guess the flavour...", you whined as your eyes catch the over flowing number of laughing emojis dancing across the screen.
"Ah okay okay, I got too excited.", Taemin giggles, attempting to wipe his lips before puckering them again for you to kiss.
You lean in to peck his lips, hoping that he would get the right answer. "Ahh! Lemon!", his answer was too confident for your liking.
You had shifted back closer to the phone, to look at the comments with an unamused look on your face saying "No." to his guess, encouraging to try again. Taemin went suddenly quiet, and through the screen, behind the draped sheets, you could see two arms pop out holding a phone with your livestream playing. "Yah, you look shit, when you are pouting like that.", he laughs, teasing you like always.
"What?! You are such an idiot." you breathed out in defeat as the viewers teased that your boyfriend, is such a troublemaker and seems to get a kick out of annoying you.
"Yes, everyone, he has been the bane of my existence for a year now."
"A year?! I'm hurting..."
"Okay, two??? Three?"
"Probably halfway to three? Way before I joined the army."
"Almost three years, he has been a pain in my head" you smiled towards the camera before looking back at the sheets, now seeing the faint glow of a phone screen behind them.
"Was it orange?" He finally comments out.
"Yes... Your turn.", you let out a sigh before returning to look behind the improv-ed covers to see Taemin, smiling at you. He couldn't resist and held your seat by the armrest and pulled your seat towards him so he could plant a soft kiss on your lips before peppering small pecks around your face. Taemin lets out a small cackle before pushing your seat out, causing it to roll back to your desk.
The seat was still swiveled to face him and as you turned around you made your guess. "Was that strawberry? It tasted like strawberries." you muttered.
As you turn to face the camera, it took a while for you to process that the lighting in the room, made it hard for you to discern that your face was now covered in faint tints of pink kisses. While inspecting your face through the screen, you could see Taemin's hands slowly sliding out from the side with his thumbs up followed by an 'okay' sign followed by a series of breathless laughter. "You look like I just mawled you."
"Wow, y/n eonnie, he must really love you. Wah eonnie, you are so lucky.", you read out the comments out loud, snickering at each one, which made you blush.
"Why does he have such femenine lips?", Taemins voice erupted from behind the sheet. "Reported!"
"Imagine if that isn't her boyfriend... Reported." he continues on.
You placed your arm on the desk, propping your chin up as you converse through the comments asking that you should make a TikTok with him right now. You stated once more, you weren't sure what challenge you could do that wouldn't impede on his privacy and internally, it disheartened you that you couldn't scream to the world that you were in love with someone without saying his name, and Taemin couldn't think of ways to console you. He wasn't afraid to admit he was in a relationship with you and it wasn't the first time you two had been linked together anyway. But you kept rejecting the idea because you assumed, both of you may not have the mental constitution to keep fighting the haters.
A couple minutes went by and you resumed doing the chapstick challenge, commenting there was probably 4 more flavours to try. Each one turned more chaotic as Taemin had caused a scene because he was determined to shift the sheet screen closer so he could steal he muscat grape chapstick from your desk without being seen. Your spare phone lit up from under you with a message from Taemin with a link. You opened it up to see the new lipstick tiktok trend and underneath the link, he messages you once more. 'My love let's do this...'
Before you could even collect your thoughts, Taemin spoke out once more, now speaking towards your viewers. "Everyone! Be patient right now, we'll film something okay?"
"Really??", your eyes widened, unsure how to react.
Taemin stood up, his head was just fortunately cut off from view of the camera. He mouths a few words which you understood as, 'lower the camera so we can walk around comfortably'. You followed through, lowering the camera so it focused more on your desk, but still had enough view to see that you and your boyfriend can now be seen from the waist down and were now walking around and there were indeed two people in the room.
"We still have the stream running up and we are viewing it through another phone, so we can still read comments and respond to everyone" you called out cheerfully, hoping the numbers don't die down.
You quickly grab a dark lipstick and carefully applied while Taemin looked at you with such an endearing stare. "Please god tell me why I was gifted such a beautiful partner.", he gleefully jumps and down, barely controlling his excitement.
"Such a con-man, you are only doing this because you are on camera my love."
Effortlessly, your lips began to retaliate with kisses across Taemin's face, each time, he giggles. Every time he checks his reflection through his phone camera he would voice out his displeasement that some of the kiss marks were uneven and that you should either kiss his face harder, or top up your lipstick.
Y/N-nie, what was the most stupid thing he did?
"Oh...? There was that time he said he could walk across the frozen pond and if he got to the other side, I owed him a new kitten", you started much to Taemin's behest. "Well.. He fell halfway in and was super super grumpy but I got him a grey and white kitten a week later."
Once he was satisfied with his over all look, Taemin takes off the jacket he was wearing, boldly showcasing more of his figure, but in his head, no doubt people wouldn't confuse him with a look-a-like, people would know it was him. Lee Taemin.
How did you two meet?
"We met an an event. She was panicking so hard she skipped greeting me and shook hands with my friend instead." Taemin replied, causing you to smack his chest.
The lipsticks swipes across your lips for the final time to get it even before asking your boyfriend if he was ready to film. He passes a phone to you, with the front camera at the ready. You proceed to start recording with one hand while lipstick in the other, bumping your arm to cause a smudge at your lower lip.
As Taemin's hand reaches up to caress your cheek, he guides you by the chin to look at him as you pan the camera towards him, his side profile in sight, obviously covered with stamps of your painted lips, looking at you lovingly before casting a devilish grin from the corner of his lips. The camera pulls back slightly, so that both of you were in frame, smiling contently as you look at each other, before facing the camera with a cheeky smile as he pecks your cheeks, leaving another faint tint of the strawberry chapstick.
As far as content making goes, it was perfect and you felt like if you could, you would post it as is, one try, one take. But you saved it as draft after viewing it and placed the phone down. Commenting out loud, there was no need to redo it, it looked perfect enough, Taemin agreed with you before adding that he thinks it would go viral. Your head spins to throw him a frown and pout, objecting to the idea despite the fact he knows, how much you would love the thought of finally no longer keeping things a secret.
Will you be posting it?
Please post it.
What did you film?
Will it be uploaded soon?
Guys... They were suspiciously quiet... Guys.. It's okay to turn of the livestream now if you want.
You and Taemin giggle at the following comments before he lunges behind the camera as you tilt your phone upwards, letting it re-focus as you waited in front of it as you continue talking to Taemin. It was obvious to anyone who was watching you that you loved your boyfriend so much. Your eyes were so soft and endearing towards him and you looked at him as if it was he first time you saw him and Cupid had his arrow at the ready.
"Hmm, I'm not sure I'll post it, but it's on drafts so you never know", you sang in a sweet teasing tone. "But please ask questions.."
Y/N eonnie's boyfriend. Do you think, eonnie is the one?
"Do you think I'm the one?"
"Everyday.", Taemin replied eliciting causing a reaction on your face that could only be described as look of awe and constant realization how in love with you were.
An hour had somehow passed by and Taemin was more than happy to air out embarrassing stories, habits of yours that he found adorable and personal questions about his likes and dislikes. Everyone was ecstatic to know that he was more keen in being in lives if he was allowed to be more present.
"Everyone.. Once I finally reveal myself, hopefully you keep on supporting y/n and us." Taemin announced.
"Jagiya, you are giving them too much hope, we have to end the stream soon and get to our dinner with your...friends..", the last word caused you to stumble almost saying 'manager', which might imply that your boyfriend was somewhat more of a big-deal.
You were finally addressing your goodbyes reminding your viewers that you will be back on again and on your next post that they should comment what they would like to see next. However your attention was caught by the alarming statements that flooded your screen.
Wait is this real?
Eonnie? You are a lucky bitch.
How the heck did you catch a guy like him.
Gosh you could see it his eyes, this isn't a joke.
Y/N and Taemin look good together.
Is 'dinner with friends', actually dinner with SHINee?
The last two comments had made you dizzy in your seat. What was going on? Your hands would instinctively fumble around your desk so you could find your phone to check what was going on. If it weren't for Taemin, clearing his throat you wouldn't have looked up at him. There he was leaning over he desk, resting on one hand while the other was waving his phone with the screen pointed out to you.
It had not occurred to you that it was your tiktok account that was logged in on his phone and while you were too distracted trying to read the comments, Taemin had handed his phone to you to film instead and while he was answering questions, he was oddly pre-occupied with his phone. From what you could see between his phone and how your spare phone is going insane with notifications. You quickly open your phone to check. It was official. Taemin had posted the video on your behalf and even linked it in Instgram, tagging his ID.
"I'm not scared to tell the world that I love you. So I posted it.", he smiled.
Taemin smirked as worry had set on your face, lips slightly gaped in shock as Taemin made the first move to publicize your relationship. Like he was the first one to say I love you almost three years ago. Like he was the first one to chase after you after a serious argument. Like he was the first one to do informal introductions with his family.
The woman was too stunned to speak kekekeke.
Holy shit, she really didn't expect this.
You guuuys, you are too cute. Please don't break each other's heart.
Taemin quickly rushed around the table and knelt down beside your seat, wrapping an arm around you. Your eyes followed his line of movement, never breaking away, so many questions in your head and so much more emotions. Primarily, you were ready to cry.
"Okay, while y/n recovers, see you in two weeks guys!", he waves towards the camera.
Your body slumps down onto the desk, struggling to let out a pained chuckle before sitting up slightly to cover your suddenly flushed face with your hands. You were so embarrassed that you continued to try hide your face with one hand as you waved at the camera.
"You are insane Lee Taemin. You idiot", you giggle, smacking his shoulders playfully in a repeated manner as he leans forward to end the livestream, flashing a playful grin and thumbs up as it cuts and the live has ended.
"Yeah, I'm insane about you, but now we don't have to hide it anymore. Plus, the old Dispatch articles didn't have a lot of hate comments on it...", he calmly stands up and leans on the edge of the desk,
"Yeah.. But your fans are going to rip me apart... I'm not really.. Conventional?"
"We'll figure it out okay?"
"Okay..."
"So... It was viral years ago. But do you think fans will realize you were the girl at the fan event and you struggled to shake hands with me and greeting Onew hyung instead?"
"Yes, because Onew laughed at you because you kept your hands out waiting and just shook your own hands when I didn't go back to you.."
Taemin rolls his eyes, remembering the video in question, reaching forward to pull the seat you were in, closer to him. He rests each hand on an arm rest and looks down at you with, kissing the crown of your head before catching your lips.
