SUMMARY: you have sworn that you would never get involved with the campus fuckboy, Eric Sohn. however, you have decided one day that enough was enough, and you would sacrifice yourself and ignore all of the tornado warnings that were clearly tearing you apart.
PAIRING: fuckboy!Eric x f!reader
GENRE: angst, suggestive, slight fluff
WARNINGS: nc-17, frat parties 😃, alcohol consumption, the sexual tension here is strong yall oops, fuckboy Eric...need i say more than that 😁, he is flirty af, he is umm shirtless at one scene 😀, cheating & playing with one's feelings (don't do that irl folks), petnames (babe, princess), name-calling (again, its horrible don't do that), reader walks in on Eric making out with someone at one point 👀, kissing, making out, teasing, arguments, slight manipulation, reader ignores her own feelings/well-being for months but eventually faces them
WORD COUNT: 3,604
A/N: back with another release for the emails i can't send fwd: series with @sanaxo-o, and this is written for @mosviqu ✨ happiest birthday bar, i tried my best and i really hope you liked this!! 💓 thankiew my dearest 妹妹 @sungbeam for giving me ideas & helping me beta (along with @drunkdrazed emma & sana) i love yall always 🥹💗 also tagging other eric mooties for this 👀 @itsbeeble @kimsohn
This will be the last time I’ll ever do this again.
You have been repeating that to yourself over the past several months, constantly reminding yourself that you will never get into a messed-up relationship again. At least, that’s what you thought about before you were brought back to reality, where you’re standing on the front porch of a party location for the night.
Why exactly was that? Frankly, you had no idea yourself.
But there was only one way to find out: to enter the frat party that catered to the seniors for the night. You pretty much knew most of the people here since they were students who belonged to your batch.
Instead of carrying out your usual routine, go to find your deskmate in psych, who was the one who often dragged you out from your bubble to parties like this, and have a couple of drinks before passing out on one of the couches towards the end of the room; you decided to do the complete opposite tonight.
You walked straight towards the outdoor pool area, where most students were holding their glasses of cocktails and dancing around the pool. Some were enjoying their time playing in the waters. You had one goal in mind: to walk straight towards the other end and to find him.
Sure enough, he was there lying on one of the sunloungers with his favourite whiskey in hand while a few girls were hovering around him, touching his bare chest. You couldn’t care less about that since you already knew this was his norm.
But now it was your time with him, and you boldly made your way towards him, standing right before him before he ushered the other girls away. He allowed you to crawl up to him before settling down on his lap, and he rested his free hand on your waist.
“Hey babe, I have been waiting for you since forever,” he grinned before leaning towards you while resting his fingers on your chin.
Instead of giving him a reply, you stared deeply into his eyes before wrapping your arms around his neck, making the male rest his thumb on your lips to part them. “Look at you, already missing my touch so bad. We’ve only just bumped into each other this morning on campus.”
Once again, not a single word left your mouth, but eventually, you decided to lean in to close the gap between you both before sealing your lips with his. The kiss was messy, and you were slowly savouring the leftover alcohol that was on his lips, slowly getting drunk by the way his lips moved against yours as if he knew exactly which spot to get to.
You have lost count of how many times you have made out, and Eric Sohn knew you from A to Z, especially when it comes to playing around with your feelings and emotions.
He was the campus fuckboy, after all.
Flashback
“Y/N! You won’t believe what just happened.” Your roommate Naomi came rushing through your front door, not even bothering to close it before she frantically entered your bedroom.
“Woah, what’s up? And why exactly is your face flushed red?” You asked.
“What else would it be? Obviously, it’s about the guy we all hate to the depths of the earth’s core!” She yelled, placing both hands on either side of her hips before she began rhythmically tapping her feet.
As soon as you heard the word “guy,” you knew exactly who she was referring to—someone you had sworn to never get caught up with again.
Eric Sohn.
“Let me guess, he had a one-night stand with one of our acquaintances,” you announced with crossed arms.
“Not just an acquaintance, Y/N. It’s Stella-”
Upon hearing that name, you immediately stood up from your chair, dropped some of your lecture notes, and made a mess on your tidied-up bedroom floor. Anger began rising rapidly within you, and you had to try your best to contain yourself and not make a scene before your neighbour started complaining about your specific unit for the nth time this month.
“Not Stella,” you fumed.
“Oh yes he did, Y/N. And things are not looking good right now.”
“Please God, tell me she’s alright,” you pleaded with Naomi, shaking her shoulders. But it seemed your roommate wouldn’t spill the tea that easily.
“It’s best if you check it out yourself,” your roommate silently mumbled before you dashed out the door and grabbed your coat frantically to go see whatever mess he had done this time.
And you hoped that it wasn’t as bad as the previous one.
You were now supporting Stella upright as she tried to position herself directly in front of the sink and calm herself down after having too many drinks than her usual intake. You absolutely hated how your friend—well, former friend—got Stella as messed up as he did to the other girls.
You and Eric went all the way back to kindergarten, where you had always known that there was this little boy who would often cry every single day all because he knew that he wasn’t going to see his parents for a couple of hours, and would try all sorts of methods to convince that he wasn’t fit to enter the school’s compound.
Naturally, everyone knew and labelled him as the “crybaby” and just didn’t really know how to interact with him much.
In the beginning, you reacted the same way with the other kids, thinking that he would eventually grow out of it and decide to mind your own business. However, it came a day when the kids were paired up for a little mini-activity, and that was when you got the infamous boy himself.
Contradicting what the others said about him, he was a jovial and happy-go-lucky kid. In fact, he was the one who helped bring you out of your bubble and made it easier for you to go around meeting new friends. He would often link his arms with you as you walked down the school halls daily, which made the other kids label you two as a couple.
Frankly, you didn’t mind all that because you enjoyed his company. In reality, you often looked forward to being paired up with him again for another activity or sport. After that experience, he would often make his way towards your desk, eat his bento boxes with you during meals, and show off the pretty animal-themed meals his mother had made especially for him.
You often giggled at how he would talk about himself all the time, and it was just mesmerising to see the joy and look on his face whenever he spoke of himself. Adding on to that, he was definitely taught well at home with the way he would go all-out to make friends with others during school hours and help them out in any circumstances possible. He was no longer the “crybaby” that everyone once labelled him as.
Things were going well until one day, his family decided to leave for the States. To say that you were sad about your friend leaving would’ve been an understatement—you were devastated. Not only was he the very first friend you made in kindergarten, but you also felt as if he was your soulmate since he knew everything about you and had never once done nor said the wrong thing that made you upset.
During that time, Eric couldn’t say much either since you were both still young, so he had no choice but to leave with his family. On the very last day when he was in Seoul though, he made sure to give you the tightest hug and place multiple pecks all over your face, promising you that fate would reunite you both someday.
That day eventually came, but you never would have expected to reunite with him the way you did after all these years.
You were both 22, casually entering your second year of university before you encountered the man himself. You were shocked, to say the least, when he first stepped into the lecture hall—his hair was fully blonde, he had several tattoos all over his body, and every girl swooned over him.
He was now a hot mess.
The Eric Sohn you once knew was far gone because the one here was nowhere near the little boy you admired back in kindergarten. Word often spread quickly in college, so you frequently heard about his little date nights with multiple women and his so-called “flavor of the month.”
He was one of the wealthier students on campus, hosting house parties almost once every month. These parties attracted quite the crowd, causing a more ever-present distinction between them and students like you and your roommates—the goody-two-shoes who prioritised studies more than drinking and making out with different people in one night.
That was until he got involved in your affairs.
It all started with him dating one of the girls within your circle, and it ended horribly, to the point that the student herself decided to cut all ties with everyone and isolate herself either in the library or in the comforts of her apartment all the time.
It took you a while to figure out what happened before you could get the girl to talk it out. He was toying with her throughout the relationship, and there were no fixed boundaries or respect while they were together. He seemed unable to settle down with just one girl, and cheating was prominent throughout the entire relationship.
Unfortunately, he didn’t stop there. Multiple exes followed after that, and you’ve seen the heartbreaks he had caused throughout campus. You couldn’t believe it, or rather, you didn’t want to think this was the same soulmate you once had way back in your childhood.
It just didn’t add up.
That was until it happened to Stella.
You couldn’t believe your ears when you found out that your best friend had decided to date with your former friend. As much as you wanted to pull her out of the mess, she knew what she was getting into; who were you to judge or have a say in someone’s decision and relationship?
However, now that you’d witnessed your friend’s downfall in person, you could no longer sit back and watch your former friend continue on his sick, twisted games. So you stomped right out of the bar and walked all the way to Eric’s apartment. Thanks to Stella, you also knew his pin number to unlock the front door, and you wasted no time and quickly barged into the compound.
Sure enough, you found him making out with another girl on his couch, and both of them were definitely surprised to see a random girl going into his apartment without prior notice. The girl under your former fried began grilling him some questions, but all Eric did was stare back at you, eyeing you from head to toe.
In the end, he kindly dismissed the girl for the night before closing the front door and walking straight towards you, now standing a few centimetres away from you.
“It’s been a while, Y/N. To what do I owe the pleasure? Have you been alright?”
“Don’t give me that bullshit, Sohn. You know exactly why I’m here,” you spat, trying to contain the anger and fumes that were slowly rising.
Instead, your reaction intrigued the man, and he returned the favour by smiling at you, one that you knew wasn’t going to end well.
“What does Stella got to do with you, hmm? Unless you’re jealous-”
“Jealous? Don’t make me laugh; I’m here to put you right in your place, mister.” You stomped right towards him and shoved him against the wall, cornering him with both your hands beside his head. “I don’t know what the hell happened when you were in the States, but I surely did not anticipate such behaviour from you after all these years.”
Eric quietly stared at you for a few moments before he lifted his thumb and rested it on your lips, which made you twitch at the contact. “You know, Y/N. There’s this joy in seeing how so many people around you want you. It’s fun and quite thrilling if you ask me.” He was now smacking his lips, and you knew he would make advances if you didn’t stop him there.
Hence, you smacked his hands away before grabbing onto his collar. “Your time playing with innocent girls is up, Sohn. Leave them the hell alone,” you snarled.
“Hmm, what makes you think I’d listen to you?”
You were now put in a bind spot. There was no denying those words that Eric had just spat right into your face. You had no control over him, and hell, even if you were part of the student council, you couldn’t do anything since he wasn’t posing as a threat to the other students.
Another factor was that he was well-loved by the students, particularly female students on campus since he was the guy that everyone wished they could elope with after all. It must be a joke for the fuckboy to listen to your proposal, thinking that you’ll ever have hopes of changing the guy.
But something in you snapped, and you couldn’t care less about the methods you would try to pull off.
Even if that meant sacrificing yourself.
“If I were to date you and meet your needs, you leave the other girls alone.”
That came as a shock to Eric; never in a million years would he have thought you would suggest something like this. You have always been a goody-two-shoes from kindergarten until university. He was well aware of your group of friends: the library was where you would visit most frequently, and you would be back in the dormitories by ten at night.
It took him a while to respond properly, and you weren’t just going to stand there and wait all night, so you did the impossible and pulled him down towards you.
You locked your lips with his.
It all happened so fast, and the anger and frustration prevented you from rationalising your thoughts and making you do what you had done. If you would’ve told yourself that you would lose your first kiss to your former friend turned campus fuckboy, you would’ve immediately jumped off the nearest cliff off campus.
As soon as you pulled away, a smirk appeared on his face, and he quickly turned the tables so that you were now pinned against the wall, his hands travelling down to your waist before licking his lips once again.
“Whatever you say, princess.”
This whole situationship went on for months, and you were slowly losing your sanity each day. Eventually, you slowly began to give into his urges, playing along with his little games if that meant keeping your friends safe.
Nobody understood why you did it, especially your roommates and circle of friends. Naomi would constantly remind you about all of the horrible things that he did, and you would one hundred percent regret getting involved in his affairs. But if that meant keeping your friends safe and unharmed, you would do it ten times over.
Hence, there is a change in your daily routine: meet up with Eric every day after lectures and accompany him either to the local bars or the comforts of his apartment, and stay the night there whenever it gets too late for you to return to your own. You really didn’t mind it at all since you had a roof over your head and you were safe in his arms.
At least that was what you convinced yourself it would be.
His fuckboy demeanour didn’t stop there, and he would often be seen hanging out and flirting with the other girls. But there was a drastic difference this time: he knew exactly when to draw the line and chose not to advance further than that.
As much as your circle of friends would constantly remind you about all the terrible things Eric had done, you convinced yourself that if he doesn’t see them, then they probably didn’t exist after all.
But one question still remains: Are you really okay with everything unfolding in front of your eyes?
Was lying to yourself about your actual feelings worth it for the sake of your friends? And was going into this despite ignoring all the tornado warnings worth it in the long run?
End of flashback
“Hey babe, is everything alright?”
You were brought back to reality with Eric rubbing off a little teardrop that flowed down to your cheeks, not realising that you had been consumed with your thoughts so much that you actually cried in front of him.
You were at a loss for words and couldn’t pinpoint why that was either. All you did was gently touch the area he had just wiped off before you felt your eyes begin to water again.
This time, Eric genuinely seemed concerned and cupped your face gently with his hands for the very first time since you both started this entire messed-up situationship months ago.
“I don’t know…I don’t even know why I’m here tonight, Eric,” you began sobbing but tried to hide your tears by choking back them. Why am I like this? Why do I keep doing this with you, knowing my feelings are not validated or ignored? Why did it have to be you?”
You couldn’t care less if people around you began giving you the side-eye, seeing that a girl was sitting on top of Eric in the midst of the frat party sobbing uncontrollably. You have held it in for far too long, ignoring all the warnings your friends have constantly tried to ingrain in your mind.
You got yourself into this situation; you should’ve known that you were getting yourself into trouble when you proposed that idea to him. You should’ve known that you were going to get your heart broken-
Before you could continue with those thoughts, you felt a little peck on your forehead, only to open your eyes to see that Eric had left a little mark right there, closing his eyes to cherish that short moment before pulling away.
“Did that help?” He asked, once again rubbing your red puffy cheeks with his thumbs.
“Eric…why would you…” you sniffed.
“I realised something, Y/N. While I was with you for the past several months.”
“W-What exactly was that?”
“I’m well aware of the things people call me. I know all about the red flags people say about me; frankly, I’ve done some screwed-up shit and brought myself into this messy situation. I know you decided to date me for the sake of your friends, and it’s very brave of you to do that, despite knowing the hurt and harm that would prevail when getting together with me. But that’s not my point-”
He cuts himself off by positioning himself upright on the sunlounger he was lying on, now holding both sides of your shoulders before taking a deep breath to proceed with what he was about to say to you.
“Y/N. You’ve shown me how friends would stand up for each other in a situation like this and how all of these games that I’ve been playing for so long aren’t going to last forever. Emotions are something that shouldn’t be taken lightly, and you shedding actual tears in front of me proved more than enough for me to make my final judgement,” he huffed, knowing that it wasn’t easy for him to get those words off his chest.
Eric began mumbling a few words before he finally decided he was ready to say them out loud to you. “Y/N, will you teach me how to love?”
Your eyes widened upon those words coming out from him; it felt as if you were looking right at the same boy back in kindergarten, your soulmate and childhood best friend. The sudden wave of nostalgia came rushing over you, and you tried your best to hold those tears back as you needed to properly hear him say the words you wanted to hear for the longest time.
“What are you saying, Eric?”
“it is exactly that, Y/N. I’m…trying my best to muster up the courage to say that out loud to you right now. I know you’d probably laugh at my face,” he chuckled. “A guy like me asking the girl who he's been taking advantage of to teach him actual love? Yeah, I’m insane for all of that, I know-”
Before he could finish his sentence, you sealed his lips with a kiss, pushing him back down the lounger, savouring the taste of his lips. Eric returned the favour and deepened the kiss by wrapping his arms around you, his fingers running through your long, wavy hair while he was at it before pulling it apart for some air after a good minute.
“W-What was that for?” He stammered.
With that, you finally gave him a genuine smile for the first time since reuniting with him here on campus. “Welcome back, Eric Sohn.”
In the end, you both burst into laughter, enjoying that little moment together before resting your forehead against his. “So, I’m taking this as a yes? That you accept my proposal?”
You chuckled before ruffling his hair with your hands.
“Maybe if you take me out on a skateboard date the next time, I’ll consider it done, Mr. Tornado Warnings.”
sfw, gn reader , similar to my subtle skinships but something a little new ♡ hope you enjoy
sangyeon
waking up before you to prepare breakfast and maybe even pack a lunch for your school or work day
drawing bubble baths for you (and if you ask him to join of course he will oblige)
day trips!! always opens the car door for you and makes sure you're buckled up before leaving
buying you gifts especially jewelry and leaving it on your bed while you’re away so you have something sweet to come home to
literally already acts like a husband to you like . once you do get married not much will change,,he worships you
jacob
playing his guitar when you can’t sleep
making playlists with songs that remind him of you/your relationship. sometimes he sends them to u and they're called like "for my love"
wants you to be involved with his family and includes you in his calls and facetimes with them
likes driving you to spots and parking just to listen to music and talk with you
very even-keeled and becomes your rock. always there to listen to you talk about your day looking at you with heart eyes the whole time.
younghoon
always getting you little things when he travels on tour like even if its a little keychain, and writes a little note or card to go with it
regularly talks about your future together like it's obvious you're life partners
literally never argues with you,, even when you disagree he's very sensitive to you and just wants to work things out peacefully with you.
you're his whole world. he adores you, has to let everyone (including you) know as much as possible, reminds you he's a better person because he met you.
will drop everything to make sure you're ok. brings you drinks or food when he can during your day. if you're feeling down he will like - run errands for you, bring you snacks etc
hyunjae
regularly brings you to his family home bc he knows how much his parents (and darong) love you
sends you pics of the sunset when he’s away at work but thinking about you
frequent hugs with kisses that start from the top of your head until he works his way down to your cheeks
has to be holding your hand,, crossing the street? laces your fingers for safety, sitting down together? grabs your hand and kisses the back of it
likes when you do his hair care and fix it for him the best. closes his eyes and hums when you're putting the product in and massaging his scalp
juyeon
petting your hair when he’s sat next to you and his arm around you also loves to give you shoulder/neck/head massages to relieve your stress
always keeping an eye out to make sure you’re good in social situations (he may seem aloof but he’s in tune with you!!) ur happiness is his happiness
that being said . sometimes he doesn’t realize when you’re flirting with him he just thinks you’re making conversation T^T but then he catches on and tries to play into it which usually ends up in yall giggling maybe kissing
refuses to let you pay for anything, provides for you happily
so patient with you, always listening attentively with eye contact and appropriate responses <3 an angel
kevin
always trying to make you laugh whether it be twerking, sending you tiktoks he thinks you’ll like
baking and cooking for you ! his lucky taste tester,, literally doesn’t care if you just sit there and watch him but would love if you joined him!!
loves that you have a good relationship with stella lowk gets jealous when she texts you with news before him
brags about you to anyone that will listen "they're so funny and cool and great and smart,, i'm so lucky"
makes up little songs to narrate what you're doing even if it's like. the dishes -_-
chanhee
couple fashion yes yes ! obsessed with taking ootd pics with you
expect his whole camera roll to be you and his favorites are all the ones of you together
always attentive to you whether it be getting something off your clothes, getting you water, reminding you to rest and offering his shoulder when he notices you're tired, moving your necklace clasp to the back, etc
lowkey gets nervous around you like NOT THAT HE'S NOT COMFORTABLE but if you give him too much eye contact he starts blushing and laughing
always leaning on you, head on your shoulder, hanging on you holding your hand/arm. JUST loves u sm and wants to be close to you it's sweet.
changmin
wants to “do your hair” and ends up knotting it up (he’ll brush it out though)
gives you really weird hypothetical situations bc he knows you'll actually put thought into your answers <3
he's a silly guy but he likes his chill time and loves it more when you're with him. sometimes he'll bring you home and you take ghana on walks together,, or he just wants to watch a movie with your feet propped across his lap yktv
whenever you're out together at a cafe or restaurant he always lets you taste his order before him and lets you have as much as you want if you like it
will bite you. you'll just be laying together and he bites whatever part is closest NOT even hard enough to leave marks like juyeon but just enough where he can express his ,,,, cute aggression
haknyeon
shares his love through food with you
has a specific time slot for you in his week set aside for just spending time together whether he's taking you out or spending a night with snacks and a movie :>
loves when he can get you up early to watch the sunrise together (always brings coffee/tea and a pastry for you)
your biggest cheerleader. literally texts you with a message every morning encouraging you for the day
comes home singing loudly to announce his presence. you're the first thing he looks for when he walks through the door and has to give you an ENGULFING hug and at least 3 kisses on your face to prove how much he missed you
sunwoo
saying you’re “too far” when there’s more than 5cm between you
if he's sitting across from you he holds your hand(s) INSIDE his sleeves
low-hanging fruit but he absolutely has a folder FULL of songs about you
loves nights where he's just laying in between your legs or when he's holding you,, either way just wants you close, doting on you all night
pretends to be too cool for being your sweet angel baby sugarplum fairy but when you pull away from showering him in affection he goes "why did you stop -_-"
eric
has a picture of you as his lockscreen and his wallpaper, in his wallet, on his mirror, a framed one on his dresser, etc. etc.
if you're watching a movie and an attractive person comes on, he covers your eyes with his hands and says you should only be looking at him bc he thinks he's sooooo funny
always buys you a mango juice or whatever drink you like when he gets his from the convenience store
wants to include you in everything he does as much as possible whether it be going out with his friends, all his days off, his early morning walks
needs his face as close to yours as possible; kissing your cheeks/eyelids/nose biting your ear, etc etc
do not repost or rework/copy any of my posts here or on other sites
warnings: sunwoo is a little mean, cutie juyeon, oral, sex,no use of protection( STAY SAFE YALL), use of the nickname “princess”
you enter the warm coffee shop, following your regular routine: ordering your favorite coffee then rushing to class. after placing your order you quietly scoot to the waiting area, looking down at your phone as you receive a message from your best friend.
her: GIRL.
you: WHAT??
her: u will NOT believe who followed me omg .
you: omg who??
her: FUCKING. MARK LEE.
you: BRO??
you: THE ONE FROM UR ECON CLASS??
you: THE ONE WHOS JAEMIN’S FRIEND??
her: YES. YES.
you: that’s messy bitch
you: wasn’t jaemin ur ex lowkey ..
her: yeah but mark is cute idk…
as you were typing up a response the barista spoke up to notify you the drink was ready. you whispered a small thank you as you walked away before taking a sip of it.
fuck! this is way too much caramel.
while mentally cursing out the barista you became to absorbed in your conversation to realize there was someone in front of you. by the time you realized, you had already bumped into the person. as you both tried to hold your balance you failed.
“god, can you watch where you’re going?” said the guy across from you. the man in front of you was tall, he was also very pretty. you snap out of your thoughts seeing how rude he was. maybe those were good looks gone to waste.
you were about to curse him out, when you felt the sudden sting of hot coffee soak up your clothes. you let out a groan again before muttering, “asshole, you think i wanted to bump into you?”
you both continue to go back and forth before his friend lends you a hand to help you out, “sorry about him, i can buy you more coffee?” he smiled. “or better yet a change of clothes?”
you smile at him, “thanks so much, but it’s fine. i have to run to class im late!”
“here take my sweater to at least cover your shirt… its kinda see through.” he continued to maintain eye contact as you shuffled to cover your chest. “im juyeon by the way!”
this was lee juyeon. lee. fucking. juyeon. star player of the football team of your school. he was every girl’s crush. he was always accompanied by his large group of friends, who are all very hot.
and of course today he couldn’t be accompanied by a nice one. he was walking with kim sunwoo, who was another captain of the infamous football team. you sighed as you realized you knew way too much about these people who definitely didn’t even know you.
“yeah i know who you are, youre one of the star players of the football team.” you sighed. “oh god im so embarrassed…”
“okay, princess and the frog, can we move on from this shit, or are you guys gonna kiss and turn each other into frogs?” sunwoo spoke up annoyed tone coding his words. “come on juyeon, we gotta go to class or coach will make practice tougher today.”
you rolled your eyes as juyeon smiled again, “all right ill see you around princess?” your ears flushed at his statement.
you looked down at your phone quickly unlock it to text your friend.
you: BITCH.
her: what hoeeee
you: FUCKING LEE JUYEON GAVE ME HIS SWEATER.
her: OMFG UR LYING . he is so fine!
you: he’s finer up close oml
you: his annoying friend spilled coffee on me
you: and had the nerve to act like a bitch
you finally got through your whole lecture and all you could think of was juyeon, his beautiful smile, and gorgeous face. he left you his sweater and you were going feral. the scent was to die for, faint smell of expensive cologne and the sweet smell of vanilla.
as you walked out the school you heard some loud yelling from the schools gym. out of concern you take a peak to see a crowd of shirtless guys celebrating. in the crowd you locate juyeon. your heart melts as you see him smiling brightly.
he looks beautiful, the contrast of his muscles against the dimly lit light. you felt like you were dreaming, a smile creeping on your face as you watched him.
your smile quickly turns into a frown as sunwoo walks into your field of view. “what are you doing in the boy’s gym?” he questions. “are you stalking me?” he asked making a grossed out face.
you groan, “what’s your problem?” as you started unzipping the sweater. “im just here to return this to juyeon.”
“alright you can give it to me, ill give it to him.” he rolls his eyes grabbing the sweater from your hands harshly. you try not to smack him right there.
“you’re really annoying, you know that right?” you mutter loud enough for him to hear.
he gives you a questioning look, “hm? and what else?” he rolls his eyes making you more annoyed with him, but you stayed silent. your gaze shifting from sunwoo to juyeon.
sunwoo follows your gaze, turning around slightly in order to see what you were looking at, or better yet who. “what? you like him now?” he looks into your eyes as he leans on the door frame with a smirk, his body coming into your view. your cheeks quickly turn red and he lets out a chuckle. “knew it,”
you look away, breaking eye contact. “no, i -“ you were cut off by juyeon himself.
“sunwoo, coach said to come back we’re ordering pizza!” he smiled at sunwoo before turning to you once he noticed your presence. “coffee girl!”
your face started flushing again, “juyeon, hi! i just came to drop off your sweater.” you started shifting around in your place. sunwoo rolled his eyes out of annoyance once more. he stomped away towards the coach as juyeon talked to you. “alright, you have it now!” before you could get a reply you started to walk towards the exit.
“hey! wait! i never got your name?” juyeon yelled loud enough for you to hear. slightly raising his arm, muscles flexing.
“its y/n!” you yell back with a bright smile on your face. you covered your mouth once you saw students of other clubs come out of classroom glaring at you. “y/n!” you whisper-yelled this time.
“swing by practice again tomorrow, y/n!” he whisper-yelled your name to mock you.
you turned around with a bigger smile, but before you could even begin to celebrate your moment you saw sunwoo glaring the two of you. he looked pissed, but you couldn’t pinpoint as to why. you weren’t doing anything to annoy, if anything he’s annoying you.
you shrug it off and make your way out, heading to where your car was parked.
the next day approaches fast, and you get through the day just fine. today wasnt too bad as you got your coffee right this time, and you didnt bump into an annoying asshole with a cute friend.
speaking of devil, there he goes. his tall figure leaning against the the wall as he talked to a girl. he seemed uninterested as she talked his ear off
they seemed to be talking about something serious. you dont mean to eavesdrop… but its not being nosy if theyre being loud enough for you to hear right?
as you continued to look over to get a grasp of the situation, sunwoo’s eyes met with your own. his intense eye contact makes you a little nervous and he seems to notice as his lips carved into a sly smirk. his eyes stayed on yours as the girl kept talking to him.
you break eye contact as you see juyeon come out to greet you. “y/n! you actually showed.” he said with a smile.
“well since you had asked so nicely,” you smile. “sorry im a bit late, i had to return some books to the library.”
“it’s fine,” he smiled. “i actually wanted to talk to you,”
your face lightens up a little at the sound of that and you hum a small “mhm?”.
“one of my friends, eric, hes throwing a party this saturday. i was wondering if you wanted to come?” he let out smile. you stay composed on the outside but internally you were jumping up and down.
you were panicking inside: a cute guy just asked you to come to a party you would’ve never go to willingly. your eyes meet once more with sunwoo’s. he is watching the interaction intensely his brows raising slightly at you, anticipating the answer.
you look away as juyeon speaks up, “if you are free, of course!”
you snap out of your sudden trance, “yes! yes, id love to go!” you say a little too excited. “i mean, if you want me to i could,”
he chuckled at what you said, “okay great,” he smiled as he looked down at you. “give me your number so i can give you the details,”
sunwoo was pissed. he was not happy seeing this little scene play out. you were quick to give him your number and he couldn’t help but be pissed. why do you like juyeon so much? he walked away from the girl as she was talking, not caring about her look of disappointment. fuck, why do i care about who she gives her number to?
you were doing the dishes as your friend showered. you were humming to a song you heard earlier when she started talking from the bathroom, “y/n! have you chosen an outfit for the party yet?” she yelled, her voice sounding faint due to the running water. “it’s tomorrow,”
“not yet, i cant find anything cute in my closet.” you sighed. she came out the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her head and her long robe covering her body. “let’s go!” she said walking towards your room.
you followed right after her, “i’m telling you theres nothing good.” after the words left your mouth you were quickly shunned by doubt. if anyone was going to find an outfit it’d be her.
… and that she did. after a long hour of arguing and disagreement she finally prepared an outfit for tomorrow night. you both settled on a tight dress that hugged your curves perfectly and hung right below your inner thigh. even you didnt remember having this dress. and though, you typically didnt wear heels you borrowed one of her heels to match your dress.
“youre coming with me right?” you looked at her with pleading eyes and she smirked. “of course i am! a chance to hook up with one of the hot football players that play with your little boyfriend? sign me up!” she said shaking her body in excitement.
you rolled your eyes playfully. letting out a chuckle.
your clock read 9:50 p.m and you were on your way in a cab. you were wearing a tight black dress, your friend decided to go with a similar option. to say the least, you wanted juyeon to like you too.
you applied some lipgloss to your juicy lips as your friend spoke up, “juyeon will be amazed by your beauty, babes!” you smiled, putting down the little mirror you carried with you. you whispered a optimistic ‘i hope so!’
soon you arrived, and quickly sen juyeon a message so he could come outside and get you. shortly after you sent him a message he was already making his way out. he ran to you once he spotted you. “you look amazing, y/n.” he smiled into your hug. “you as well,” you blushed.
he greeted your friend too and soon you all make your way in to the house, the music getting louder as you enter further in. following juyeon lead you to the kitchen where everyone was getting drinks or playing beer pong.
as you turned around juyeon was gone. you shrugged it off, deciding to get a drink with your friend. in the haze of the moment you saw a familiar face, sunwoo. you rolled your eyes choosing to ignore his presence.
“you came?” he asked shocked. “well obviously, i am here.” you rolled your eyes causing your friend to laugh making sunwoo glare at you.
“i don’t appreciate your attitude, princess,” the roll of his tongue on the word making you scoff. you didn’t want to admit but sunwoo looked hot, and his words didn’t change your mind.
it was now 11:56 p.m and you took a sip of your drink. you were looking for juyeon or your friend. as you looked around, you spotted your friend talking to a guy, who you learned was juyeon’s friend. and juyeon was nowhere to be found.
you headed to the kitchen once more. as you entered the dimly decorated kitchen you spotted juyeon finally.
he was talking to the same girl from earlier. his hands were all over her and she giggled pulling him into a kiss.
you feel your heart sink. you put the cup down and head outside, sitting on the front porch. should you leave or wait for your friend? fuck it.
as you were getting ready to get up someone sat next to you, “alone?” sunwoo asked handing you a beer.
great. now sunwoo had to see you like this he’d make fun of you for sure. “yeah, i guess you can say that.”
he looked over at you worried. his eyes following your sad eyes. “what’s wrong?” was he actually being nice for once? you looked away from his gaze unable to look him in the eyes from the embarrassment.
“i tried to dress up. i thought maybe he’d like me too,” you laughed sadly. “but there he was making out with a girl.”
you drop your head only your lap, sighing. “you can laugh now sunwoo, i know you wanna,”
sunwoo took a long pause before saying anything, “y/n?” you hummed a soft ‘hm?’. “i’m not gonna laugh at you, princess,” he said, you quickly lift up your head quickly shifting your head to look at him.
“you’re not?” you ask, still in disbelief.
“no, why would i?” he rebutted. “you know, juyeon is a dumbass for not paying attention to you tonight.” you furrowed your brows at his comment, wondering what he meant by that.
“you look breathtaking,” his eyes locking with yours, both of you unable to look away from one another. you were about to break the silence when his soft lips kissed your own.
the kiss was soft, which surprised you since you thought sunwoo would be rough. he quickly pulled away, his face shocked at what he said and did. “i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have kissed you,”
your lips form a slight pout before you nodded, maybe he was right. kissing him wasn’t the best thing to do right now… or so you tried to convince yourself. he coughed slightly, clearing his throat before speaking up, “do you want me to drive you home, y/n?” he asked with a serious tone. avoiding your eyes as he got up.
you quickly got up, nodding, “if you don’t mind,” you say before pulling your phone out to see if your friend wants a ride too. “let me ask my friend if she’s coming or not.”
you: i’m going home
you: are u okay staying i wouldn’t wanna ruin ur night
you: or do u wanna come back home w me
you: sunwoo’s driving
her: i think imma stay in hangin w hyunjae
her: if yk what i mean 😉
her: don’t wait up babes!!!
you: okayyyy have fun 😊
you put your phone away, “she said she will stay, we can go now.” you say and he starts walking to his car. both of you walking in an awkward silence.
you make it into the car and the silence feels worse. after asking you to type your address in the two of you fall back into the same silence from before.
damn it, why did i enjoy that kiss? you wondered why you couldn’t think about anything else as you looked out the window. sunwoo’s eyes looking over at you then at the road ahead.
he thought that maybe he should strike up a conversation, but decided against it as the car pulled up to your apartment complex. “alright, we are here,” he said quietly getting out the car with you. “i’ll walk you to the front,” he said. “since it’s dark,” he added to justify his decision.
you nodded and as you both reached your building’s entrance you turned to him. “thank you for driving me home,” you smiled slightly. “and walking me to the front!”
his lips curved into a smile unable to respond as his eyes shifted from your eyes to your lips. pushing himself to kiss your lips once more, this time his movements seemed rougher. his hands wondering your body, hands landing on your ass. he gave them a squeeze causing you to moan into the kiss.
you pull away, though you were eager for more. “let’s go up to my apartment,” you say, almost begging him to come up with you. you pulled him to follow you before he could even reply.
when you get to the elevator, you click the button, kissing him again as you two waited for the elevator. “i can’t believe you said you didn’t mean to kiss me,” you say in between kisses.
he chuckled against your lips. the elevator door opens, and you rush in. clicking the button to your floor impatiently as you and sunwoo kissed each other again. “fuck, you’re gonna kill me princess,”
the elevator door dinged, signaling you had gotten to your floor. you dragged sunwoo out and to your door. fumbling with the keys to quickly open the door.
as you and sunwoo were still kissing you entered and closed the door behind you. your hands wondered his body pulling his jacket off him as if you were a madwoman. “someone’s eager?” he moaned into your mouth causing you to giggle and nod.
“fuck, yes, i’m starving.” you take off his shirt staring at his half naked body with lustful eyes. this atmosphere was dangerous.
you continued to undress each other throwing the clothes around, not caring where they land. you drag him to your room. lightly pushing him to your bed as you climb on top of him. your lips locking again, moans pouring into your mouth as you grind against his growing bulge.
“fuck, princess…” he whimpered. “if you keep doing this i might cum right now,” he says in a low tone against your ears making you moan out.
you pulled away from him making your way down to sit on the floor between his legs. his eyes looked down at yours as if he was going insane at the lack of contact. his hand dragged out to touch his dick. using his hand to press it against your face, dragging his pre-cum against your rosie cheeks. slapping it softly to signal you to open up.
which you obliged to quickly. forming an ‘o’ to let him know you’re ready. well you think you are.. his dick is so big you second guess yourself.
sunwoo slowly enters your mouth, letting you get used to his length. you start bobbing your head up and down his dick, occasionally gagging at the fullness. you feel yourself getting wet at the sight of his pretty face in this moment.
your hand wonders to your core, rubbing circles causing you to moan against his dick, making him twitch slightly.
“shit, shit, princess, fuck…” the fuck drags out as you deepthroat him. “shit,” he whimpers as he fucks himself into your mouth emptying his load into your mouth. as he calms down from his high, you continue to suck him dry.
he taps your cheek softly, pulling you up to kiss him. “sunwoo, i need you to fuck me now,” you demand as he kisses your neck, “please, i need you.”
he nodded pulling you to sink onto his cock. your mouth opening and eyes rolling as you took in his length. he moaned into your ear, “fuck, princess, you feel so good.”
he thrusted into you at a fast pace, like he couldn’t get enough of you. “sunwoo- shit- you fill me up-p so fuck-fucking good, fuck!” he gropes your boobs, latching his mouth on one of them, giving you more pleasure.
as sunwoo fucked your brains out, you heard your phone ring. who the fuck… you decide on ignoring it, feeling too fucked out to even think about picking up. sunwoo read the name and smirked, “you should get that, babe,”
you roll your eyes from the hard thrusts. he hands you your phone and without looking at the name you answer it.
“hell-fuck-hello!” you try to respond as well as you can, given the fact that sunwoo is fucking you so good.
“y/n! you disappeared on me,” he said chuckling. your eyes widened at his voice, fuck, it’s juyeon. you try to tell sunwoo to stop but he won’t listen, going faster instead.
“s-sorry i wasn’t-t feeling g-good!” you yelp as sunwoo holds you in mating press, pulling you closer to him. his lips pressing against your temple, moving to whisper loud enough for you to hear, “baby, you can’t be moaning like that unless you want him to hear you…”
you move a hand to your mouth trying not to moan into the phone. “alright, just wanted to check in on you, y/n!” he said softly. “have a good night, pretty girl.”
sunwoo’s hand rests on your lower stomach, pushing against it slightly. “are you this horny because of me… or because of juyeon?”
you whimper out a response, “fuc-k for you!”
he smiles against your neck before sucking a hickey onto it, “that’s how it better be,” he says. “you’re mine, princess.”
he continues to fuck into you, and you can feel yourself getting closer.
his hand trails down to your clit, rubbing circles to push you over the edge. you moaned loudly, as your body shuttered at the strong feeling of satisfaction. “where do you want me to cum?”
“fuck! cum in me,” you say in the state of pleasure. “shi-shit,”
and he complies, filling you up. he pulls you down to lay next to you as you breathe heavily trying to calm down from that.
his dick still in you, as he is unable to pull out.
you wake up to the smell of pancakes. you get up from the bed noticing you’re only in your underwear and sunwoo’s shirt from last night. you smile to yourself before heading to the kitchen. you see sunwoo standing by the stove, you wrap your arms around his waist, hugging him from behind.
“good morning, princess,” he turns around to kiss you.
“it smells so good in here,” you smile at him. “mmm, i’m hungry!” you say getting a plate to serve yourself.
“you know what… i’m also hungry, princess.” he says following you. and you get him a plate too. he takes them from your hands and places them down before picking you up to help you get on the counter. “that’s not what i meant,”
“Why's my girl misbehaving today, hm? Shouldn’t you be nice to the birthday boy?”
pairing » the boyz kim sunwoo x fem!reader
trope/au » friends to lovers, (or should i say...) 'friends' to lovers, situationship (?), non-idol au!
genre » very suggestive!! (as compared to my other one), it's kinda fluffy uwu (everyone act surprised), a dash of angst, dom!sunwoo at times, sub!sunwoo at other times, kim sunwoo being whipped and sweet for you, but he's also flustered, he's flirting with you, reader is a bit of a tease and is confident, you're also flustered at times, sunwoo loves you and you love him (again, act surprised), finding love and comfort in each other after past relationships, kim sunwoo who just wants to be close to you
word count, estimated reading time » 4987, 18 mins
warnings (lmk if i missed anything!) » very suggestive!!, dom! and sub!sunwoo, mentions of unhealthy past relationships, a ton of kissing, making out, marking (teeth and kiss marks; reader receiving), pet names (baby boy, baby girl), reader licks cream off sunwoo, sunwoo licking cream off reader's neck and collarbones, sunwoo is physically bigger and taller, reader has medium to long hair, HIGHLY suggestive at the end, rapid proofread once
navi/masterlist!! 🤍
happy birthday to (one of) the loml 🥰
uhm...
yeah...
so!...yeah...
i'm just gonna go...
The delightful aroma of your hard work fills the volume of Sunwoo’s apartment easily. You've been chopping, stirring and sizzling ingredients for the last two hours, excited for the first birthday that you'll spend together with him.
To elaborate on your relationship with Sunwoo, you're ‘friends’. The explanation would give most people deadpanned looks, accompanied by the raised eyebrows that would follow. Otherwise, others would only facepalm at the stupidity that you both seem to obviously share. Anyone could tell that with the way that you both would drop any conversation that you're in or literally drop the paper cup in your hand whenever the other comes into even slightly just their peripheral vision, that you're more than the label that you both have decided to nonverbally settle for now.
Like your best friend from diapers would say, there's no way those kisses on the forehead, trailing down side to side across your eyelids, back medially down the slope of your nose, along the underside of your jawline, were things that ‘friends do’. Not with the way that Sunwoo would subtly slide his palm down from the comfort of your back to cup one of your bottom cheeks, smirking when he feels the heat radiating from your cheeks.
And for you? You can't help but feel the disappointment in your chest whenever he passes the quiet but rapid breathing of your lips whenever he bypasses them to work on that sensitive spot on your neck, sometimes whispering compliments to the shell of your eyes with that husky, low voice of his—but well, it's not like that anymore.
Friends don’t look at each other’s orbs and are so immersed that they say “I miss you” in the most dewy, honey-dripping voice. In public where they're most disciplined, they don't hold each other’s hands while walking, a thumb smoothing over the other when they’re just walking along the empty night street or the aisle of the grocery store.
Friends don't give each other their spare apartment keys or sweep them off their feet as soon as the front door opens, distracting their worries and other thoughts by locking lips with each other. You would never let any of your other friends carry you in their arms and pull the same blanket that they will use in the night over your body. In the same way, you would never snuggle to the warmth of the person next to you, kissing them a sweet “good night” and “thank you”.
But knowing the manipulation and tears from your past relationship, none of you could bear to address the looming label that others already deem you as. Sunwoo is too scared to ask too, going through the same thing from his past relationship. Through the healing of the break-up that you both had in your respective lives, came the comfort that the other’s lips would give, and he would chase that feeling from you over and over again.
You're okay with how things are now. You respect him and you don’t want to push him or the title that you personally want to have with him. For now, you decided that actions will speak louder than words and when the right time comes, you both will address it without the influence of the outside world.
Today is just one of those days that you use your spare key to use Sunwoo’s kitchen to cook up a little feast. The dining table is decorated with a vase of roses in the middle as you hop between the stove and make sure everything looks presentable. The light dimming system of his house is perfect for the shooting star projector that you aim towards a blank wall. You're satisfied with all the preparation for the main meals, making sure that the moment he walks in through the door, you can cook and plate it up swiftly while it’s still freshly pipping hot.
“Oh gosh,” you're proud of your efforts with the vanilla whipped cream for his cake. “I'm a genius.” You sang variations of the phrase to yourself.
Curse your horrible time management skills because the clock in front of you only reminds you that you have little time until the main key is used on the front door. The sponge cake is assembled quickly, with a thin layer of crumb coating and cooling before you make the smooth layer of cream at the end topped with some chocolate and strawberries.
You stepped back to admire your work, making sure the fruit was on the perfect slope and that the chocolate bar next to it complemented the negative space around the centrepiece. Your hand under the cake was about to slip when you heard the keys rattling from outside and you swore the fridge door hated you by how you had a hard time opening it.
On the other hand, Sunwoo could smell your home-cooked meal a few doors down the hallway. His stomach only grumbled in anticipation but his heart was jumping at the thought of you greeting him behind the door. The smile on his face grew, his overgrown bangs tickling his eyelids with his rushed footsteps towards the door.
The sweet scent of your perfume is what he manages to pick up first, and he remembers how his time was well spent when he was shopping for the bottle for you.
“I'm home.” Something that he has always loved to say, hating the lack of light in his house after a long day at work. His fingers were about to switch the light on but your shout stops him halfway.
Your body crashed against his before he could comprehend. Sunwoo groans a little at how his back hit the door behind him but his palms settled on your hips lovingly while your arms were wrapped around his middle, face hidden to his chest, nose inhaling your favourite cologne.
Chuckling at your small apology, his fingers raised to tug at the hair tie around your ponytail. He tugs down on the elastic, now savouring the scent of your perfume and shampoo. It left you goosebumps with the way Sunwoo massaged your scalp, his other hand untucking his tight shirt that he gave you, from your skirt so that the pad of his thumb could feel your skin better.
“Happy birthday, baby boy,” exhaling at the gentle swipes of his thumb on your waist.
“Thank you, baby girl,” trailing kisses from the top of your head to the side of your head. You tried to escape from the ticklish feeling but his arm wrapped around you, keeping your lower bodies flush against each other, “Where do you think you're going?”
You giggle at his lips down the side of your face, his breaths reaching the crook of your neck as he takes comfort there. It's only now that you realise the fabric of his material, is no longer the white collared polyester. Your heated cheeks brushed against the metal around his neck and Sunwoo could feel the start of your complaints from your deep inhale.
So he closes the gap and kisses you to quiet you down.
He ignores the little muted surprised sound from you, pulling away only slightly to smirk at you before diving in deeper. His palm grips on the curve of your waist, keeping you in control. He whispers for you to pull him closer by the neck and he knows the roll of your eyes isn't an indication of annoyance. Your lips danced between his, a hand over his nape to pull him down, your other palm cupping his cheek as you tried to control his hunger for you.
“Sunwoo,” Slightly out of breath, “What are you wearing?”
As if he didn't see the deadpanned look on your face when he decides to give your poor lungs a break, he leisurely answers, “This is the suit and tie of someone who decided to leave the desk early,” fingers hooking around the metal chain around his neck whilst simultaneously peering down at you with a raised eyebrow and a smirk, “so that he could look hot for his birthday and his girl.”
You couldn't deny that. Shamelessly, you let your eyes roam over the somewhat tight shirt that he has. His pectoral muscles are defined with the grey stretchy fabric and the silver accessory around him only made him all the more irresistible. Kim Sunwoo knows how to make you swoon, styling his hair lazily with his strands covering his field of view.
Sunwoo makes it known that your stare is invited, loving the attention that his special day gets him. You're looking at him so delicately that his smug confidence falters into a softer look. His lips form a straight line but the moment your eyes meet his, there's a deep resonating chuckle from his chest, a happiness that spreads to you.
“Let's go eat?” With an affirmative hum and a quick peck, Sunwoo lets your body go and links with your palm, letting you guide him deeper into his house.
As soon as his eyes take a glance at your work, he's momentarily still. From the tablecloth draped over his table to the stars on his wall when he realises, you remember his wish to make a wish to the star. He's always found the idea to be a bit innocent, unlike his relationship with you but the fact that you kept it in mind, and how his grip on your hand only tightens, tells everyone that Kim Sunwoo is ready for more.
He daydreams of a day when he would kiss you awake, and how you're the last voice he would hear before falling asleep. How you'll greet him when he opens the door and kisses all over his face and more. How he’ll be able to spend his money spoiling you instead of only spending it on himself. How you’ll be his number one and how you’ll be his. These thoughts have roamed his head for a very long time and he used to keep it in, hide it for the sake of not ruining whatever you two have.
But with the way that you would kiss his nape as a greeting whenever he would be sitting down in front of you, or the way you would sit down on his lap and crane his neck up to meet his lips with yours. How the heated sessions would only flare up more when he sneaks his fingers around the band of your bra, and the whole intimacy that you show each other—Kim Sunwoo is undoubtedly in love with you.
Besides the intimacy, it’s the things you do for him. Namely, it’s the view of his house right now and the welcoming scent of his favourite food that you prepared for him. It’s even more precious to Sunwoo as he knows that you do this even when it isn’t a special day. You have done this whenever he would hint how much he misses you and you would show up to mend his tired heart the next minute. It’s not just the kisses and skin on skin. If you stopped guiding him to his designated chair and looked back at him right now, you would see that lovesick look on his face.
Sunwoo offers to clean up the space whilst you’re cooking but you quickly refuse, saying that he should take a rest, even if it’s for a while. After a few tries, Sunwoo finally listens to you, sitting down where you want him to. He takes this time to admire your decorations, snapping electronic memories of his surroundings and taking extra shots of the wall that seem so much more inviting with the video of falling lights.
His eyes are stuck there, entranced by the view. You see from across the room how he readjusts his position and closes his eyes. Your heart swells with that, keeping the view of his head down slightly as he mouths inaudible words to the stars you projected. When he opened his eyes, you diverted back to dinner, happiness evident in your face at he appreciated your work.
While you focused on the pan, Sunwoo found a couple of metres gap between you cooking and him sitting too far away, so he took a seat from the other side of the kitchen island, the significant piece that separated you two. Soon enough, you pout at the return of the multiple camera sounds, this time louder and clearer. You tried to lean over the island to snatch his phone away and Sunwoo mirrored the playful smile on your face.
“Behave,” he knew it worked like a charm when he saw you flustered. Your outreached wrist from your attempt only gets caught up with him and Sunwoo draws you in closer while he leans in to meet you in the middle. The dim lights overhead set the mood more as they angle the shadows and highlight all the kissable parts of your face and Sunwoo swears he could kiss you all night. You watch the gulp down his throat and his stern eyes drifting to the knobs of the stovetop to turn off the fire. Kim Sunwoo is no longer playful like a minute ago.
You’ll admit that he sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach but it didn’t stop the tugging of the corner of your lips and Sunwoo’s eyes widening when you decided to turn off the fire but never returned to him. Sunwoo lets out an amused scoff at the way you cross your arms over your chest, leaning your back on the free space next to the stove.
His eyes narrow to you, a tongue poking his inner cheek at your sudden surge of confidence, “Now,” You watch him turning his body sideways, walking along the opposite side of the island towards you. He stays silent for a bit longer, letting you know that a question is coming; and that he wants answers to it. Copying your gesture, Sunwoo leans before you not even a metre and nothing separating you anymore. “Why's my girl misbehaving today, hm? Shouldn’t you be nice to the birthday boy?”
“You really want me to be ‘nice’?” You shake your head, finding the statement amusing, “You love it when I play with you like this. What's life without a bit of misbehaviour?”
The boy couldn’t even get a word out when you suddenly took a big step towards him. Your palms rest on the edge of the table, caging his figure. You purposely lean into his chest, eyelashes subtly fluttering underneath the still orange lamp from above. There was no longer a chance that Sunwoo could think straight anymore. Not with the way that just like before, you cradled the underside of his jawline.
However, your hold on him this time is different. It didn’t feel like you were going to pull him and have your kiss marks all over his skin like the way he would never refuse to when you asked. The confused lines between his eyebrows only deepen more when you just keep staring at him with a dazed look in his confused orbs but it’s then that he sees a glimmer of hope for the relationship that you both could share.
It may have been the light or it may have been the reflection of his own eyes or—and this is what he hopes—it’s the glimmer and stars in your eyes that you hold as you look at him at the moment. Sunwoo tries his best to understand your unspoken feelings but his train of thought is cut short when he registers the dollop of coolness on the left side of his jawline.
His breath hitches in his throat when your right hand hooks around his necklace and you latch your lips around the cream on his face. Your tongue swipes the food off his skin, alternating between kitten licks and long swipes. Your left-hand swipes the wall of the metal bowl behind him, trailing down a path that you would soon wipe clean. Sunwoo shudders, his light moan hitting your ear and his little whiny begs encourage you to keep going.
Your breath hitting his skin would normally rile him to put you in your place but all he could do with his lower back digging against the edge of the table is to clench his hands onto your mid-outer thighs to stabilise himself.
“God…” Sunwoo calls out when he opens his eyes to meet your daring ones. “You're so beautiful.”
“Enjoying this?” And he responds with a harsher grip, hands raising and starting to lift your skirt to your upper thighs.
The coolness of the cream, followed by your light alternations of sucking and kissing on his skin, and the way the air cools the area after is perfect and Sunwoo’s head tilts back in satisfaction.
Too bad you wouldn't let him because you finished trailing his jawline, stealing a kiss straight to his subtle, hungry lips. The taste of vanilla and the pressure of your lips makes his head light and the room seems like it's spinning. But now, it's his turn and you know it with the way he pushes you away with all the strength he has left in him. He bends down to wrap his arm around your mid-thigh that has crescents of his nail on your skin and he sits you on the countertop and slots himself between your knees.
Sunwoo’s eyes are darker than the night outside but it doesn't fear you at all. You're now the one caged between him but unlike Sunwoo, you knew you didn't have any strength to push him away—nor did you want to. You bite your lower lips when he starts tugging your left sleeve down your shoulder to have more area to work with.
“My turn, baby girl,” metal against marble is heard next to you and Sunwoo uses his pointer and middle fingers to scoop the sweet white.
A smirk comes up his face when you grow visibly weaker for him, your posture faltering underneath his dominating presence. Sunwoo held your chin between his thumb and ring finger and applied a thin layer between your open mouth.
“Take a deep breath for me.” And you did so almost immediately.
You soon found out that the deep breath is needed as Sunwoo not only takes your breath away by covering your mouth with his own but that he multitasks to smear the food all over your neck and collarbone area. Unlike you who preferred things to be more uniform and clean, Sunwoo loves how you squirm and whimper under him with multiple senses. His fingers traced the horizontal line of your collarbones first before he came up and around the side and front of your neck less uniformly; he’s getting impatient now. You soon found out that the skin he exposed earlier wasn’t so that he could have a reason to place his tongue there, he’s just hungry for more of you, wanting to feel every part of you, just like how his tongue pushes against yours.
You find his little huffs of annoyance endearing as he mumbles about how the lack of oxygen has him pulling away from him showing his love. In reality, it was just a few seconds, but every second without you felt like a lifetime to him. He cleans the last bit of cream on his pants and he finally detaches his lips from you.
Sunwoo straightens his posture, looming dominance over your wrecked mind and half-lidded eyes. A hanging weak string of saliva still connects you both in the air for a minute and his right hand wraps around your left forearm in place. You didn’t mind his sticky fingers that started to brush the strands of your hair from the top of your nape. It’s a lovely feeling from the adrenaline he gave you but he raises your heartbeat once more when he plays with the wind to your ears, “Tasting lovely, baby girl.”
Nothing else is said as his lips dive into the sweet trail that he made for himself. Your body reacts to the sudden warmth by pulling away, but his hold on your shoulder reminds you of your place to stay where you are. The same hand reaches to drip on his elbow for mind stabilisation but your free one pushes against the broad of his back. Your legs hook around the back of his thighs to feel him indefinitely closer. It seems like the boy has learnt quickly, especially when it’s from you because just like the way you made him see the stars on the ceiling, he made you see it but with more intensity and brightness.
Sunwoo loves unpredictability over anything, even though he appreciates how you value the opposite. One of the reasons he appreciates it is because he knows what to anticipate next whenever you both feel each other, and he loves the building climax. But you who is receiving his unpredictableness, can only curse him out whenever he tries something new on the body that he has come to be familiar of. The thrill of your groans and whines makes him feel in control and just like any other time, Sunwoo didn’t hesitate to plant something new on the curve of your neck. You sharply gasp at the way his teeth very lightly plunged into you but whimper louder at how he hallows his cheek on the area. From the corner of your eyes, you see the vein of his neck start to appear with his actions.
“You’re right.” He pulls away slightly to admire a part of him on you before diving again to properly clean your skin. “I do love you like this.”
Your lips are trembling in pleasure too much to string in proper words so you only whine to his acknowledgement. When one side of your neck is clean, he doesn’t bother keeping his touch to himself, briefly swiping anything that he can get on the way to the other side of your neck. Kim Sunwoo drives you crazy and your legs around his body tighten for another attempt to stabilise yourself.
Your jaw slacks when he bites again, this time just a tiny bit stronger as a response to your lower body. He lets you drop your head back, hand still on your nape so that he has control over the area he’s marking and maximises the pleasure that he can give. The tip of his tongue starts to alternate between the sucking and long stripes that you did to him. A satisfied chuckle hits a sensitive part around your collarbone area when Sunwoo feels his shirt further define his pectoral as you clench his fabric in your fist.
Ragged breaths along with a mixture of wet kisses are all that’s bouncing between the four walls. Flushed bodies and heated skin press against the two who are afraid to love again. You’re aware of his heart pounding against his chest, knocking on yours to let him in. The closer he travels down to your chest, you’re afraid that he will feel the pounding, afraid that your hidden desires may show through and be overwhelming for him. The meaning behind your clench changes in time that your skin is now littered with a different colour because of his actions. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, exhaling and stepping back to admire his work.
You do the same, chest raising rapidly to account for the lost air, taking advantage of the space now that he’s pulled away. Sunwoo couldn’t help the small chuckle at your pout and he wipes them away by granting you another kiss, palms resting on the edge of the table, trapping you once more. Your noses comically bumped into each other, still lightheaded from before but you enjoy the atmosphere that would always come along after the intensity you poured out to each other. Your legs relax between his figure and both your hands delicately cradle his cheeks.
The realisation strikes again: all you want is him.
Him and everything of him.
The thought of him kissing someone else churns your stomach and makes you green, even though he’s not yours. You didn’t want anyone else cupping his cheek the way you do, and you didn’t want to see anyone else next to you when you opened your eyelids to the song of the morning birds. You want to be greeted by his chest or hairline when he needed comfort the night before. You want his “I love you”s and “I’ll miss you”s even if one of you is just going to another room in the building. You want to be the person that he can always lean on for whatever and whenever. You want him to be the person that you can cry ugly to. The wishes filled your body as you wished he would kiss you like this forever with or without the title that you would love to establish.
You feel the clenching of your heart when you open your eyes with the final pull of the remnants of vanilla, greeted with the shimmering orbs that you’ve fallen in love with. Your eyes are stuck onto the smile lines around his face and he’s entranced with every single part of you, staring at you with the honey dripping from his eyes. The smile you offer him is bashful and slightly tense. Of course, he caught up to that, humming at the sight of your pretty head filled with worries. His thumb glazes upon the apple of your cheeks and you wish he didn’t just so that you could save yourself from heartbreak.
Kim Sunwoo makes you believe that love is worth it; that you’re worth it.
You wish you were more confident to tell him that.
Sunwoo leans his forehead onto yours, eyes planted on your downcasted gaze, “Hey, can I tell you what I wished for at the shooting stars?” but you only hum back, refusing to look at him, “Can you let me be the only person to touch, hold and kiss you like that?” There was a moment of silence as Sunwoo let you register his words. When it does click to you, your eyes shot up to his. A nervous chuckle is what he offers you but he doesn’t plan to take his words back, “It’s okay if you’re not ready. I’ll wait for you. But,” he swallows the anxiety down his throat, letting his face roam around your slightly confused face, “I can't stand the thought of someone else littering kisses all over you other than me.”
It’s genuine.
Kim Sunwoo’s eyes are different than any of the eyes that you once put your trust in.
It’s obvious.
“Jealous?” It was supposed to be more striking and playful but it turned out to be more tiring and insecure.
Again, he caught up to it and decided to carry on the narrative of your words with a careful tone, “You’d be fine with other girls running their tongues all over my face?”
The mention of your past actions started the multiple offences to his chest and the poor boy loves the flustered look on your face, complaints flying out of your mouth. In this moment when you both indulge in the comfortable relationship that you share, your posture relaxes and your hands rest on your laps. Shortly, Sunwoo joins his own there, fingers intertwining between yours and just like how he soothes the heaviness that you hold internally, his thumbs swipe across the back of your hand.
“If you do, I won’t let you off easily, Kim Sunwoo.”
You hope that he realises the real implication behind the words. Sunwoo’s brain buffered a little bit but soon enough, the straight line shape of his lips raised into something more. Along with it, his naturally mischievous personality also raised his eyebrows. “That’s my girl.”
You couldn’t help the giggle at how his face flush red after, bashful at the effect you had on him. Your fingers brush along the ends of his hair that seems to get in the way of his eyes.
“You should cut them or something.”
“I look hot like this though.”
“You always look hot.”
And there comes little shy Kim Sunwoo once more.
“I-Instead of flirting with me, why do you grant my other wish instead?”
“Oh yeah?” You lean back on the table, hands behind you for support, “I granted you your wish, shouldn’t you grant mine first before you ask for another one?”
“How about I grant them both at the same time?”
“You don’t even know what I want.”
True.
As much as Kim Sunwoo has been paying attention to you, you’ve always been the girl to never fully express what they want despite the encouragement from your loved ones that they will always stand beside you no matter what. An idea brews in his head when you lean back and he catches the glimpse of the white rays shooting out from the sky behind you. You know with the way that his tongue swipes along his bottom lip, mouth slightly agape that he’s up to no good.
His hand leaves the marble you’re on, drawing closer to the side of your thigh to your waist. Innocently, he displays his big, round eyes to you and his actions contradict them heavily. A few of his fingers slip past not only the waistband of your skirt but also the fabric underneath it. You thought he would stop his ministrations there but his other hand traces the same path on the other side of your body, this time however even though his hand did not go under the underband, the clip behind clicks open.
“You can’t wish for anything until I show you the stars.”
navi/masterlist!! 🤍
tags (send a dm/ask if you would like to be here or removed!): @deoboyznet 📢❤️ @k-labels 💙🤍 @k-films 🤎🎞️ @kflixnet 📺🍿 @sanaxo-o
↳ Stumbling upon a tossed out android in the park across the way from your place is one thing, but catching feelings for him? Well, that’s a whole other issue entirely, now isn’t it?
lee juyeon x afab!reader — chobits!au, fluff, awkward romance, angst with a happy ending, gratuitous sexual content, porn with plot [15.4k wc] cws: ethical/moral dilemmas pertaining to android sentience, sex under the influence of alcohol. sexual content: juyeon has a big dick and fucks like a pornstar because he is not strapped to normal mortal confines, penetrative sex (unprotected), (a lot) dirty talk, wet and messy.
With your cell phone shrugged up against your cheek as you lug a large, tied off garbage bag down two flights of stairs on account of the elevator being out of order, you can't help but feel somewhat discontented by the gentle huffs of laughter coming through from your friend on the other end of the line.
"You really gotta get out of that dump, it's so long past time now."
Sighing, you finally reach the lowest level of the apartment building, and with an aggressive tug, the far-too-full bag of paper waste follows through the front doors behind you. There's a recognizable tearing sound that you're hopeful is akin to more of a plastic flesh wound than anything that will result in even more picking up of mess than what you've already done tonight — but as you reach the end of the walkway and are met by the gracious offering of the dumpster sidelined at the street — you hurl the bag up and over your shoulder with as much strength as you can muster, while simultaneously and much to your displeasure feeling the slip of your phone from its nestled place, down to the concrete flooring below.
"Fuck, fuck...!"
On the other end, you can hear your friends' voice as she tumbles to the floor, juggled against your palms as you attempt to salvage the device. It seems to help to some degree as you manage to force it away from the cool, hard flooring and instead into the far more plush, albeit wet, grass just nearby — it's been raining all day, and you're none too pleased about that on account of the effect it tends to have on your already shoddy mood as of late — but regardless, your phone is safe, and picking it back up, you can hear said friend asking what's wrong as you bring it back up to your face.
"Sorry," you say in a hurry, suddenly realizing that you've transferred much of the wet and dirty from the ground to your face having not wiped the screen before ushering it back into place to respond. You wipe it quickly with a grimace and finish your thought. "Kind of all over the place. Been a long—"
You pause again, partially on account of trying to decipher just how long it has been that seemingly any and everything has been going wrong, but mostly as a result of the heaping pile of...you can't even begin to know what that has caught your eye from across the street.
Your heart beats heavy in your chest, because despite it not being all that late in the evening, and the lights of the park just across the way being very much still illuminated, there's one thing that you're relatively certain of and even from this distance now:
That's a body.
"—Life."
"What? What's wrong?"
Squinting, you're not entirely sure how to even answer that question. After all, this friend has now long since moved out of town and cannot possibly aid you in the situation at hand should it be a situation, and beyond even that much...how often does this sort of thing happen? What should you do? Call the police? Investigate?
You don't really want to see something that you can't ever possibly unsee, but the ethics of leaving what could be another human being over there — if they're alive, injured, in need of help...
"There's...a body, in the park across from my place."
You take a step towards the road.
"What!? Well what the fuck! Call the cops!"
Another step.
"What if it's just someone drunk and passed out? I'd hate to get them in more trouble than they really need on their hands," you reply with another step forward, now well on your way to crossing the quiet, residential street. "I'm just going to have a peek, I can call the police if I need to but I just want to be sure."
"You're crazy, what if it's a set up, what if you get attacked!?"
You hadn't considered that angle, and now that the thought is in your head, your heart beats just that much faster. Some sort of ploy to lure an unsuspecting person to them only to turn the tables and hurt them instead, you frown silently at the thought of it, but make no effort in changing your course, either.
"Well," you sigh, reaching the dewy, green grass of the other side of the road and stepping a tennis shoe atop it. "You'll know as much, you can call the cops then."
The following steps are quicker than the last, perhaps a part of you trying to get this over with as soon as possible on account of the worry of not knowing what may be awaiting you. Your friend says something on the line, though you only know as much due to the general sound of her voice and not because you've actually heard any of the words said. You suppose that with each step forward and towards the pile of flesh on the freshly mowed grass — just under a lamp post and as if entirely meant to be presented for your finding — that the loud thump of your heartbeat against the inside of your chest is all too capable of drowning out any other sounds that may insist on being heard by you.
You sort of had wanted to be wrong; about the whole that's a body thing. Unfortunately, now that you're here, you're proverbially kicking yourself for having been such an adept guesser as much.
Eyes wide as you gaze down at the pile of person just before your feet, you know that your friend is still talking to you, and you're a bit aware of how frantic she sounds with each passing second, though you're a bit distracted by the goings on before you now.
A bit curled up and almost in the fetal position on his side, at a glance it appears to be a man: mid-twenties if you had to guess with messy, mid-length black hair that appears freshly shaved at the sides and adorning far too visually pleasing and clean clothes to be someone who has gone through something all that horrible leading up to their last moments here and now.
In fact, he seems immaculately clean — not a spec of dirt or blood or any evidence of blemish gracing him at all. Even as far as your assumption of a drunk evening out, you'd think someone to have far more signs to show of it before reaching the point of having passed out in a public park just a few blocks down the street from the bar district.
If the scene before you reminds you of anything, it's at most like a house cat — simply curled up for a midday slumber where ever he may deem fit.
"HELLO!?"
Wincing, now that the terror that has held you hostage up until now has seemingly dissipated a good amount, the shrill shrieking of your best friends' voice can once again be heard through the speaker, though you're not all that thrilled about it.
"Hey, it's fine," you answer back calmly, still staring down towards the man at your feet — contemplating what, if anything, you're meant to do about this. "I think it's just a drunk guy passed out, though he certainly doesn't look like he had all that wild of a night."
"Lemmie see."
That's right, video calling. Pulling the phone back, you switch the call type and turn the camera angle down towards what it is that you've been graced with. You're not expecting all that much of a response, so when she gasps in what would seem to be misplaced horror, to say that you're shocked would be quite the understatement.
Because what is so shocking about this, anyway?
"That's not a guy you moron," your friend says in utter disappointment of you. "That's a persocom. Look, you can see the serial number just under his ear."
You hadn't noticed upon first look, though you hadn't been looking for any such thing to begin with, but now that it has been mentioned, you bend down to a squatting position to get a better look at what it is that she is referring to.
And just as she said, there it is: the number eleven situated just below and behind his earlobe.
You sigh. "Okay, so...what do I do with him? Should I call like...the pound?"
"He's not a dog, he's an android, what do you think animal control is going to do about him?"
"I don't know! I just don't know what to do with him! Should I just...leave him here?"
A few moments of silence pass by as your friend hums in thought before finally responding to your inquiry with a far too cheerful tone.
"Take him home with you. He looks like an expensive model, probably a custom build so I doubt someone just carelessly lost him. My guess is he's been abandoned because things got a little messy back at home and the original owner didn't know how best to deal with it — or rather, couldn't handle powering him down."
You don't really know what any of that means, all things considered. Persocoms being far from your area of expertise on account of never in your life having enough money to ever own one yourself; instead, they're simply a thing that you're aware of the existence of, but far from anything that you understand in any great detail.
The idea of a live-in android, a humanoid personal computer willing and able to help you with any and all tasks that you may find yourself in need of — the idea certainly doesn't sound terrible when you think of it like that, but there is one thing that rings heavy in your ear even if the concept of it glossed over so carelessly.
'—things got a little messy back at home—'
Whatever that means.
"Is it even legal for me to take him? What if someone comes looking for him? Isn't he someone else's property?"
The shrug on the other end of the line is nearly audible as your friend hums an answer to all of the questions presented.
"If they cared that much, they wouldn't have left him here. No one dumps their million dollar car in the middle of a parking lot with the keys in the ignition expecting it to still be there the next day."
Fair enough.
"You're gonna need some help getting him inside, though. Ask your cute, burly neighbor to help you bring your lil twinkbot inside — oh, and record it for me, that guy is so hot."
"I'm hanging up now, I've apparently got things to do."
"Ta-ta! Have fun getting your kitchen cleaned!"
Ending the call and finally alone with your thoughts, as well as the predicament presented before you — you think over again just why it is that someone would leave something so expensive, so presumably prized out here for any other random person to come and confiscate. You feel sort of bad, but you also suppose that should you come to find that anyone is in search of the item that you can just as easily return it back to them, and in better shape than however he would have ended up should he be left out here in the cold, rainy elements of the overnight outdoors, as well.
Something about the road to hell being paved with good intentions nestles into the back of your mind as you make your way back to your apartment to grab your neighbor friend.
As it would turn out, there are perks to having some nerdy, technologically-attuned pals.
Two knocks at your front door and you're quick to your feet, long strides across your apartment and towards the sound before you quickly open the door to welcome the all too excited smile that's awaiting on the opposite end.
You gently frown. "You're way too happy about all of this."
Popping an arm up on the wood of the doorway entrance, Changmin allows the grin to grow just that much wider at your displeasure. "Never thought you'd be the one to end up with a persocom, what can I say? Of course I'm excited. Now, let me see him!"
Stepping aside barely in time before your friend pushes his way inside anyways, Changmin barely kicks his shoes off in time before he's rushing across the open living area and over towards the slumped body of the android that you suppose is now yours.
Stopping just in front of him, you pause only halfway towards the two of them as your pal turns to look at you from over his shoulder, and you're none too pleased with the devilish grin pulling at the corners of his lips.
"He's handsome," Changmin says with some sort of insistence in his voice, though you feign not understanding it. "I mean, they're meant to be easy on the eyes but this one is something special."
You roll your eyes. "Okay, well, he's not mine and I didn't make him, so that really is neither here nor there as far as I'm concerned."
"Sure," he waves off, as if not entirely willing to take you at your word. "He's probably a custom build, a lot of money in this kind of work."
Silenced, you watch as Changmin kneels down in front of the couch where the model sits, tinkering at the limbs and looking the details over before finally reaching up under the long, white dress shirt and seemingly dipping a hand down into the waist of the persocoms pants.
"Uh," you motion in discomfort at the sight. "What are you doing?"
Changmin glances back at you again, first in confusion, and second with a roll of his eyes upon realizing why it is that you're acting some kind of way about where his hands have disappeared to. "Control panel is at the hip, calm down. If you're interested in the more intimate details of the model I'll let you figure that out on your own time."
"Changmin!"
"Just saying," he chuckles, pulling his hands back and settling the fabric back in place again. Standing once again, he leans forward and takes the chin in one hand, closely looking over the facial features of the android and subsequently checking for life. "Now we just wait and see if he boots up."
There's not long to wait, however; watching on in anticipation for only a few seconds, the slumped stature sprawled across your couch lazily blinks a few times, as if having just been asleep like any other person. Much to your surprise, there's nothing especially bizarre or robotic about it, at all. In fact, his resemblance to human is sort of uncanny. Changmin releases him and steps back to stand next to you as you both watch in a sort of awe as the man on your couch pulls himself up into a more proper, sitting, position, rubbing his eyes from slumber before they bring themselves up and towards you to settle.
"Now what?" you whisper with a gentle lean towards your friend.
Changmin answers with a question towards the model. "Do you have a name?"
A few moments of silence pass, and it causes you to wonder if there is some sort of internal memory damage done that would result in the original owners dumping him off in such a way. Surely, there has to be some reason.
"Juyeon," he says, although it comes off in tone as if a bit in question. Unsure of the answer even himself.
"Cool, he works!" Changmin exclaims with a clap of his hands, eyes wide and bright and full of promise of what's to come despite the persocom being far from his own. "Do you have an owner? Someone we should return you to?"
Narrow, thoughtful eyes glance up towards the ceiling before coming back down and settling onto Changmin. "I have no recollection of previous ownership in my memory banks."
Glancing towards you, your friend shrugs. "Guess he's all yours, then."
Great.
You're happy to take a bit of a more background role right about now as you listen in on the way that Changmin engages with Juyeon, instead, you look over the persocom as he sits on the plush furniture now — seated more proper and with palms pressed to his knees as his eyes look up towards the man speaking to him. He reminds you something of a school boy listening in on a lecture.
"It's settled then!"
Not having realized that you've spaced out, the loud chiming voice of your friend brings you back down to earth with a crash as you're left to wonder what it is, exactly, that has been settled in those few moments of your not having been paying attention.
"What?"
With a strong hand at your shoulder, Changmin pushes you forward, and stumbling towards Juyeon, the two of you meet eyes once again — though yours certainly much larger and full of unease than his — in fact, he appears calm, if not a little unaware of his surroundings in a sort of charmingly confused way.
"He's yours, like I said," Changmin reiterates as he heads back towards the front door to see himself out. "Everything's set, he's good to go, the rest is up to you to work out."
"I don't even know what that means! What do I...do with him?"
Juyeon's still looking up at you with his gaze locked — brown eyes and a dark dusting of what you can only figure is a mixture of eyeliner and smoked eyeshadow that gives him even more of a cat-like allure, you suppose that whoever it was that had this model made certainly had a knack for it as far as visuals go, though what that entails and the uses for such a dashingly handsome model of life-like android...well, you're not sure you really want to delve so deeply into that.
Regardless, you hear Changmin huff out a laugh under his breath at your question, as well as the gentle sound of your front door being cracked open.
"That's entirely between you and him."
Over the following months, living with someone else begins to settle into a routine.
You figure it's simple enough, at least: Juyeon is happy enough with any accommodation you offer him. Countless of late night hours following his 'moving in' of sorts would inform you that owning a persocom is not much different from having a pet, though with far less emotional or interpersonal demands from you, and much more usefulness around the house.
Forum users often would post their routines with their persocoms and the work schedules that they would have them on. First time owners advised to settle into one, themselves, and to not allow themselves to view the androids as humans, though they certainly do resemble as much, and nearly unidentifiably different from anyone else in the crowd next to them. It's an intriguing sort of subculture, in a way: owners and persocoms and their relationships between one another. Some people happy to effectively use their personal computer androids as household slaves — keepers of the homes for nothing more than doing the tasks that the humans wish not to do, while others, you would find on one particular night after following what would turn out to be a quite fascinating internet paper trail of links, would view their persocoms as much, much more than that.
You would also come to find that the overlap in custom models, and owners with far more deeply established relationships with their persocoms, is stark.
It comes as no surprise the more you read into it and think about it: custom build computers far from unheard of in the realm of traditional hardware, so when it comes to someone interested in building what may effectively serve to be their exact, ideal type in a partner — all of the bells and whistles, every feature both physical and in personality perfectly manifested and created to serve — you find yourself occasionally looking at Juyeon through the eyes of whoever it was that set out to create him to serve that exact purpose for them.
And then wonder why it is that he has ended up in your possession now.
Seated at the dining room table now and with your laptop open, you glance up over the top of it towards the man in question as he scrubs a dish at the sink with one of your pink, frilled aprons snugly tied around his neck and waist — it's kind of a charming sight, you can't lie — and it's easy to see how someone could get used to this sort of thing. You've not settled into any particular routine with Juyeon at this point, and in part it's because you know yourself to be assigning him a particular level of personification that you've read time and time again to be ill-advised. It's difficult not to, however. So human in looks and the way that he simply exists around you, even the way that you find yourself thinking of him — as a 'man' — you recognize is probably far from the way that you should be viewing him. Regardless, as a result of your confusion in how to go about living like this, Juyeon has not settled in as your live in housekeeper, nor as your prized boy-toy, either. There are days where the both of you take on tasks around the house, sometimes he will clean the bathroom while you vacuum the house, but often, many days are spent with the both of you seated next to one another on the couch; little more going on than enjoying the television nestled across the way and against the wall.
Sometimes you suppose Juyeon's job is to do little more than simply exist in your shared space together, and he appears happy enough to do as much.
Though, it brings up another question in and of itself: does he have feelings? Does he experience happiness?
Of course, the obvious answer would be no. Androids don't have feelings, computers are not sentient. Weeks and weeks spent together with Juyeon, you can't be sure if you're becoming too comfortable with him and as a result losing your wits in relation to him just that much more, because there are moments where you're nearly certain that he must be experiencing some level of sentience. Emotion. A feeling. More hours spent late at night and long after he falls asleep to rest reading the accounts of other people truly feeling as if they've felt the same about their persocoms — only to be met with the backlash of people far more logically attuned, perhaps — because even as you read the stories from people who post just as much the same as you find yourself believing, you can't help but think them to be a bit too deeply enmeshed with what is ultimately, just a computer.
You think them to be crazy, and yet you think Juyeon to be different. So really, who is the delusional one?
When you ask him if he is happy, he tells you that he is. An easily programmed response, and especially for a custom build intended to be a specific someone's everything. No talking back, no free-thought, you exist to be mine and to live by me alone. You will be happy with it, but more than that, you won't express anything of the contrary.
A miserable life, even if he is incapable of truly feeling misery. Maybe you're projecting, both happiness and displeasure mutually upon a being so far from experiencing either of them.
Glancing over his shoulder and as if feeling your gaze at the back of his head, Juyeon gently smiles before turning back to rinse a glass in hand. You smile back, though it's slow in response and past the point of his ability to see it.
What truly charms you about Juyeon, though; beyond his sharp, model-esque looks and his impressive ability to get groceries put away in all of their proper places in record time, is more the cat-like and borderline vacuous curiosity that remains nestled behind his eyes. In moments when not tasked with something, you often catch yourself watching him — looking around the apartment at all of the elements surrounding him — small trinkets that glitter and shine, seemingly so intriguing to him in a way that you can't quite understand.
Because why would any of this be of any interest to him? Why should he have any interest in anything, at all?
It sort of dawns on you then, watching as Juyeon places the last glass into the drying rack next to the sink, that rather than doing late night internet searches and mulling over thoughts to yourself about the hows and whys and other inter-workings of whatever it is that makes up his mind, instead, it may just be time to do the most obvious thing.
Get to know him yourself.
"Want to sit with me?"
It feels weird to ask him, though you're not entirely sure why. You always present everything to Juyeon as a question, even tasks around the house. You know there is not likely to ever be a situation where he will deny you as much, it's almost certainly not programmed within his software at all (an ethical quandary in and of itself), but now you have no household errands for him to take care of. Rather, it's the most casual of circumstances in which you find yourself asking something of him.
Turning, it's almost as if his eyes light up at the question, though you curse yourself internally for even thinking as much. There's definitely a learning curve to this whole 'living with an android and not personifying him' thing.
"Of course."
Pulling up the chair just next to you, Juyeon settles in and his eyes settle upon you expectantly. You know this look, it's the look that is anticipating more tasks to be laid upon him. It makes you feel guilty, however — as if you're overworking him, asking too much of him already though you think it more likely that you ask far less of your persocom than many others do of their own.
It's quite literally a major function of his existence, so why does it feel so bad to use him as such?
Perhaps something to do with the way that Juyeon looks at you — as if you're the only person in the world. You suppose that for him that much is true, because as far as he can remember, the only other people in the world besides him are you, and Changmin.
It might be time to take him outside, but that's not the topic of discussion for tonight.
Pushing your laptop out of the way and instead replacing it with the glass of liquid, you nervously run your thumb over the rim as you purposefully avert your eyes from the man seating next to you. Really, you called this meeting long before you were reading for it, and now that it's here, you're not entirely sure what to say.
A shallow inhale, you pull your eyes upwards to finally meet his. "I want to...get to know you."
The silence following is deafening as you await a response. You imagine the gears twisting and turning inside of his machinery as if there's some kind of factory that lies beneath the faux flesh and hair that sits before you, though logically you know it not to be the case. Instead, you can see the proverbial gears of contemplation firing in that beautiful skull of his as he mulls over the words, and with pretty lips ever so slightly parted, he finally gives you a reply.
"What do you want to know?"
Juyeon's voice is deep and velvety in a way that you haven't thought about that much until this very moment. You suppose it's in large part because you've not sat down and had an actual conversation with him before now. It's pleasant, and kind of sexy — but you're quick to correct the thought as soon as it enters the mind.
"You said you don't remember anything about your owners before me, but do you know anything about...yourself?" you inquire slowly, as if treading upon waters that you're entirely unsure about. You don't want to offend him, or bring up unwanted memories, though you question how realistic a concern that even might be. "Like, do you have television shows you like, or a favorite color...foods you enjoy — though, I guess you don't eat food..."
Your words begin to sound a bit like rambling the longer you carry on, as well as you coming to realize that you actually have a lot of questions for him as he sits before you now.
Still, you watch as one, single corner of Juyeon's lips perk upwards, as if somewhere deep down in there he is thrilled about your interest in him beyond scrubbing tiles and porcelain.
Chin nestled against his palm with an elbow planted into the wooden table beneath, he cocks his head to the side and looks at you with nothing less than fondness.
"I can eat," he begins softly, quietly. "It's for show, of course, but I can. Shows, colors, anything like that...I guess it will just take more time, but I enjoy the things that we watch together in the evenings."
"We always watch something different, you just like everything?"
Juyeon hums in thought, and you wonder how much of it is for show as if to allude to the fact that he has any free will or thought at all. "I don't like the news. I don't like to hear about bad things happening to people."
Oh? A chink in the programming?
He continues the thought with little pause, eyes glancing up towards the ceiling. "I like those shows where a lot of strange people live together in a house and have fun all of the time, even though it seems to end up in fighting a lot..."
You laugh into the rim of your glass as you bring it up to your lips. "You like trashy reality television? I didn't expect that one."
It does raise a particular set of questions, however: the ins and outs of the goings on between sexually active and attractive people in reality television settings — how much of what would commonly be described as a typical, romantic, physically intimate encounter between people does Juyeon understand?
But you're not going to ask it like that, either. Because weird.
You take a sip of your drink and swallow hard before setting it back down onto the table.
"How much of the...human experience...do you know? Like, beyond speaking, cooking, cleaning — all of the basic, simple things — I guess I'm asking about...your programming?" you finally stutter the words out, though once you have, you can't help but laugh at yourself in the aftermath. "God, it's so awkward."
"You don't have to talk to me like I'm any different from you," Juyeon comforts, sliding a hand across the table to settle atop one of your own. It reminds you that you've engaged in physicality so little since his arrival to you, and his touch offering an unanticipated warmth that you wouldn't have expected from someone so far from human. "We're the same in all of the ways that matter, we just come from different places. I think that's the best way to look at it."
You swallow hard, heart beating surprisingly hard within your chest at the touch offered to you by him.
"But to answer your question; I have the same understanding as anyone else would, any other man of my age. I know of and understand the concept of the range of emotions, I feel feelings just like you, I feel touch and nervousness all the same. I understand romance, and passion, and—"
He pauses on the word, narrow, dark eyes glancing up from the table and meeting your own across the way. His gaze feels smoldering now in a way not before felt: kitten-like cuteness now replaced by a similarly feline but much more sinister presentation, your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him as his lips part once more to finish the sentence one started.
"—Everything else in between."
Throat dry at the words and touch, you shake it off briefly and hope for him not to notice the way you sit flustered as a result of it. Ridiculous as it is, there's something about the way that he looks at you and speaks to you in that moment that feels far too much like flirting, and worse than that, you shiver at how easy you found yourself lost in it, as well.
But Juyeon isn't real, not in the human sort of way, and you'll be damned if you allow yourself to fall romantically or sexually attracted to your live-in android pal. Not if you have anything to say about it.
Besides, that's a whole other can of ethically and morally questionable can of worms that you're not interested in wading through any time soon.
Instead, you abruptly pull your hand away with a loud clearing of your throat and your eyes just as sharply averted from his.
"Well, it's late," you say shakily, scooting your chair back with a loud noise and gathering your cardigan from the back of it. "Should probably head to bed, have a lot of work to do tomorrow."
You don't wait for a response, grabbing your laptop from the table and spinning to head towards your room. Avoiding his eyes all the while, it's only when you realize that you've left your dirty glass where it certainly doesn't belong do you still and resign yourself to having to turn back and face the man as he remains — presumably still seated where you've left him in wake of your humiliation.
A deep inhale, followed by a slow turn. When your eyes fall upon Juyeon again — messy dark hair and your cute, frilled apron still hugging his form, the glass is already in hand and you're met with the most disarming, delicate eye smile — almost as if a different man entirely sits there now from before.
"Don't worry," he says cutely and quietly. "I'll take care of it."
The following couple of months pass far quicker than expected as the greenery of summertime melt away in favor of earthier browns, reds and oranges — it's as if the world itself offering you the perfect opportunity to change and shift your interactions with Juyeon and subsequently, his interactions with the world around him.
Numerous, afternoon shopping outings for long sleeved shirts, jackets and scarves for him, paired with warm drinks that only you drink but none to anyone's acknowledgement should they pass by in brief, you can't help but feel the adoring swelling of your heart as a result of scenarios such as these: Juyeon isn't your boyfriend, he's barely even a boy, at all, but there are truths of the matter, and as much as you try not to lend too much thought to them, it still remains that where once sat a kind of emptiness in your life — no longer it remains as evident as before.
After a long day out together with your persocom, the two of you return back to your apartment far later in the night than originally planned on account of missing a train and getting lost just a bit outside of town, even in spite of having a literal computer along with you for the ride. Still, Juyeon holds the bags in hand and at elbow bend as he kicks his shoes from his feet and shakes his hat off to the floor like a child. The scene brings a smile to your face as you hang your coat onto the hanger, and gently pulling bags from long, fully capable arms, you and he briefly meet eyes in a way that feels so much different than most of the other times that you do.
A fondness for him growing in your heart. Nurtured everyday by the fact that you live with him, cook with him, shop with him, do everything with him. There are little boundaries imposed between the two of you, and as a result of it, you find yourself becoming far too enmeshed with each other in a way that you know is well on its way to becoming unwise.
The truth is that Juyeon is kind, and thoughtful, and everything that you would want in a partner.
Everything that you would want in a partner that you have no hope of ever finding so long as he remains in your life, taking up the space that he does — not only in your apartment, but in your life, in general.
Comfortably nestled between the sheets of your bed, you sigh into the cool air of your bedroom as it gently swirls in circulation on account of the quiet spin of the ceiling fan just above you. Eyes slowly falling to a close as sleep begins to take you after a long and busy day, the stirring of your bedroom door just about fails to pull you back from the grips of slumber — as if unsure of its having happened at all.
One eyelid cracking open to survey your surroundings, you glance over towards the ever so slight pooling of illumination from the hallway, obstructed only by the tall, lanky silhouette of someone dangerously and conveniently familiar to you.
"What's wrong?" you question in a whisper, but Juyeon doesn't step any further forward in response.
Instead, you're met with a few moments of uncommon silence before you hear him inhale to answer.
"Can I—" he pauses again, trepidation heavy in the air between you. "—Can I sleep with you tonight?"
Oh.
Oh?
You know that you don't have that long to mull over the inquiry without bringing about even more worry and anxiety that is quite evidently already present within him. The idea of that alone is something that you've spent so much time talking yourself out of ever since finding him powered off and abandoned in the park just across the way that to be faced with the fact now and again — even in spite of being told as much straight from the mouth of the man himself — you have no choice but to take him and his word at face value now, as well as come to a decision as quickly as possible.
The relationship has been easy thus far, simple, enjoyable; in ways, something like this feels like the obvious next step.
Relationship.
Perhaps the obvious next step if Juyeon were human, and capable of even being in a true relationship with you, or anyone, for that matter.
Matters of the heart often at odds with the mind, but really, what's the worst that could happen? Friends share sleeping arrangements, family members share sleeping arrangements — you know yourself to be more than capable of doing as much without it becoming sexual.
Talking yourself into it, the beginnings of coping with having made a decision that you know not to be the one that you likely should be making.
Either way, you're out of time.
"Yeah, I'd like that."
You're not so much startled awake by the feeling of it, in fact, you're willing to melt into the touch much quicker than perhaps you might have anticipated. Perhaps it's on account of teetering just on the edge of consciousness, and thus not entirely having all of your wits about you — maybe if you were in better form you would be far more willing to make the better, proper choice.
The gentle shifting push of your thigh out of the way, then the delicate curl of long, adept fingers into the sides of your panties — maybe you would have more of a chance, but not after the feeling of the smooth, blunt tip of his length sliding through your wetness from behind and bumping right snug against your clit with what one can only assume to be some sort of practiced ease.
You're certainly awake now as the groan catches in your throat and your eyes roll back ever so slightly — Juyeon continues on with the motions, too; there's no accident in his movements against you, faux-fucking you though with no penetration as he repeatedly delivers slow, stead drives of his hips against you from behind as you lie spooned and somewhat pinned beneath him.
He's heavy, but doesn't feel much more so than any other man of a much larger stature than your own. Instead, his lips press up against the shell of your exposed ear almost instantaneously with hot puffs of air cascading down from his mouth onto the quickly dampening flesh of your face as you remain caged under him.
"Does it feel good?" he whispers against you, and with the way that his breath catches on his own words, you'd swear that it must feel similarly erotic for him, as well.
You nod ever so slightly, managing out the most meager of replies as the feeling of him relentlessly prodding your most sensitive parts begins to have a building need for more and more. "Yeah."
"Do you want to feel more of me?" Juyeon then asks, hand slipping back from your underwear and fingers instead gripping tightly into your hip, as if to put the thought in your mind of how he could have you should you allow him to.
He sounds absolutely sinful in your ear like this, and you've briefly been made aware of this side of him before, though not one you've allowed yourself any time to mentally explore. It's something you've put well and far out of your mind — the possibility of this, the crossing of this line. You've done the reading, you understand the long list of potential purposes of persocoms...
He lightly groans into your ear, and it rips you back from your thoughts.
"I can make you cum over, and over, and over again," he says in addition, never relenting the slow, pointed glide of his cock through your folds. The persistent itch of a budding orgasm is felt between your legs, and you want deeply to be bigger than the urge.
"I have—" Juyeon whispers against you again, and this time it's paired with a particular shift back of his hips. You know what's coming, the most cognizant part of your mind choosing instead to feign ignorance just for the chance to simply enjoy this for what it is, and with little other thoughts or considerations accompanying it. Blunt, press of the end of him at your entrance, followed just thereafter by the slow, smooth sinking of his length into you as the rest of the thought finally exits his sinister lips.
"—Endless stamina."
"Fuck, Juyeon—"
"Yes?"
It takes you a few moments. Moments that feel like hours as you come back to consciousness and try to make sense of what's real and what isn't, but what you can quickly gather is that that was not real, and now that your eyes are open to view Juyeon laid up in bed just beside you: hair messy, eyes on you, and very much hands (and everything else, for that matter) to himself — this is real.
As is the suffering throb between your legs.
"Dreaming of me?"
You know he's joking, and you chuckle it off as normally — albeit, nervously — as you can. "Yeah, I guess so."
Having a hard time facing his gaze despite feeling it on your skin, you're only able to offer him a quick glance before hastily knocking the sheets from you and clamoring out of bed towards the bathroom for a much needed, freezing cold shower.
"Anything you remember?" Juyeon calls out lazily and through a yawn, turning himself over in place as to follow your movement with his attention like a pet who is all too interested in your every whereabouts.
Over your dead body.
"No."
You slam the door shut. It's on accident, of course, blame it on being so tightly wound up.
Two days later, with the dream mostly out of your mind and the ability to make eye contact with your persocom having come back into your routine, after a simple dinner and a movie outing that turns a bit into dinner, a movie, and some drinks — with a light buzz that has your head a bit in the clouds and your inhibitions somewhere up there with them, once arriving back to your apartment with Juyeon, you find your eyes lingering on his form just that much more than you might typically allow yourself to view: quite a tall figure with broad shoulders and such a pretty, small waist to accentuate the curve of him — if the work done on his face alone wasn't perfection enough, then whoever had such a custom build done certainly didn't allow for the attention to detail to end there.
You wonder how much else of him is molded perfectly to someone's tastes, but shake the thought from your intoxicated head just as fast. You cannot be doing this. Not now, and not ever.
Juyeon pulls off his coat, setting it up onto the rack and dipping perfectly manicured fingers into the neckline of his white, button down, dress shirt — you watch him from the corner of your eye, though you wish yourself to have the self control not to — gently tugging at the buttons and leaving just a few of them undone in a trail that leads just far enough down the front of his chest to expose the pale, flesh there without showing off too much. A tease, though he's not doing anything in particular, and especially not on purpose.
This is entirely on you, and projection in its truest form. Curiosity certainly is having its way with you now.
Clearing your throat, you manage to pull your eyes away from him entirely, though the awkwardness of your movements draws his attention, anyway. Pulling your shirt from your pants in the beginnings of undressing for a shower and bed, you suppose it is simply time for yet another ice cold shower — not the first, and likely far from the last should these living arrangements persist.
But the clasping of Juyeon's hand around your wrist has other plans for you entirely, as it would seem.
Gently tugging you back towards him, everything feels like slow motion as his head dips down towards yours — other hand coming up to delicately cradle the side of your jaw as he leans in — you still in place for numerous reasons; fear, anticipation, concern, excitement. Juyeon pauses just after you, lips nearly feathering over your own with how little distance now rests between the two of you.
"Warming up to me, are you?" he asks in just above a whisper. You're not sure how to answer that, largely on account of the fact that it feels as though he can read your mind. A response isn't necessary though, because he continues the thought. "I can tell. I can feel the way your heart races or your body temperature shifts..."
You can't help it, chin shifting upward ever so slightly as if in an attempt to close the distance, but if he recognizes the half-assed effort, Juyeon doesn't allow it and maintains the gap still.
"You're interested..."
"I'm...curious," you correct, and for once it's actually the truth.
"Curious," Juyeon copies with slightly upturned corners of his lips. The air between the both of you feels stifling now and as though there isn't nearly enough to go around. Dizzying close to him in such a way that has you wanting to reach out and touch him far more than ever before, you have got to keep your cool — alcohol induced bravery being no excuse to make decisions that under normal circumstances you might never make.
And then come to regret.
But you suppose that the thing just said about being able to tell is true; Juyeon takes the moment into his own hands and walks you back only a few steps so that your back is against the wall. Now caged in by him, it reminds you briefly of the dream only a few days ago, although you face him like this now — reaching down, Juyeon takes one of your hands into his own and leads it up towards the unbuttoned mess of shirt along the top of his chest, pressing your palm to that very place as if urging you to touch him, feel him, be forced to acknowledge that he very much is here and real in all of the ways that really, truly matter. Physically, mentally, emotionally — Juyeon is just as much there as any other man you could have in your apartment this evening.
Your fingertips meet at the skin of his sternum, and though you've made physical contact with him before, you're surprised by his warmth each and every time. You don't anticipate him to ever feel as human as he does — even a light, barely there sheen of perspiration to the touch from the long walk between the train station and your home.
The science doesn't make any sense, or maybe it does and your judgment simply far too clouded by inebriation and desire to put the pieces together, but the thoughts are immediately put out of your head when Juyeon closes the distance between your mouths finally and kisses you hard where you stand against him.
Head slightly cocked to the side for just the right angle, when Juyeon's lips part against yours and his tongue dips delicately across your own you think for sure your knees might just give out from beneath you. Thankful for the wall at your back, fingers curling into the white shirt that they were placed upon — you know this is spiraling out of control, and quickly, but at this point...
You're not sure you have the self-control to do anything about it.
Suddenly and much to your displeasure, however, Juyeon breaks the kiss and pulls away from you, though not breaking the physical contact between you entirely as he takes your hand into his own and leads you towards the living room — seating himself on the couch, the very same couch where Changmin booted him up and back to life only a handful of months prior to now — you stand somewhat awkwardly as he gazes up at you with those same, devilishly slender eyes that you know to be hiding some sort of ideas of misdoings behind them.
Large hands slowly coming up to the buttons of his shirt again, his eyes never leave your own as he continues to release more of them; one by one another button falls away from the shirt that keeps the fabric held together, the flesh hidden behind, and with each one your breath catches in your throat. In situations like this, albeit infrequent as they are, you're given ample time to think about this, about this and what this is and what you're doing. It's wrong. Objectionable at best and ethically despicable at worst, you're fairly sure...
Your eyes look up from his hands and to his own instead, Juyeon meets your gaze with slightly parted lips and the gentle, erotic poke of his tongue to the inside of his cheek as his fingers run out of white buttons to unfasten, only to travel just a bit further down in journey of finding more.
"You said you're curious, " he says finally, pulling apart the button of his trousers with ease and making just as quick work of the zipper. "So, what are you curious about?"
You're fairly certain you're going to pass out.
He looks ungodly hedonistic like this under the barely illuminated evening lighting of your apartment living space — legs spread and undressing himself for your viewing pleasure. You wonder how much better of a person you would have to be to withstand this kind of test, because Lord have mercy, you are on the precipice of failing now.
Juyeon brings his thumbs up to hook into the hip of his slacks, and raising his lower half he gently pulls them down just enough to be out of the way.
All the while his eyes never leave your face.
"Curious about functionality?" he questions, though it sounds a bit as if it's rhetorical. An inquiry to no one in particular as your eyes fall to the far too fitted black fabric that now lies between your eyes and whatever it is that is hidden beneath. Juyeon brings one hand up to the bulge there, slowly palming over himself as you watch him. "Anatomical correctness?"
You swallow down absolutely nothing into the desert that is your throat as you watch on.
Then, he dips the same hand beneath the fabric, wrapping a fist around himself and shallowly pumping. Only now does he allow his eyes to fall from you — head falling back against the couch and eyes rolling shut at the feeling of himself.
"Or is it more—" he whispers again through his ministrations. "—Personal taste?"
"You're going to ruin my life," you finally manage out, but to that, Juyeon only laughs with a careful raise of his head once more to look at you.
"Quite the contrary," he says in response, still slowly palming himself beneath his briefs. "I can be any and everything you want me to be."
Inhaling sharply and with an evident shake of uncertainty to your stature, you look into Juyeon's eyes again — deeply, firmly — and come to a decision. It might not be a good one, and it almost certainly is not the correct one, but it's a decision nonetheless; made here and now.
You'll deal with the fallout should the time come.
"I want to touch you."
Juyeon doesn't reply with words, instead pulling his own hand from himself and granting you the space to experiment as you see fit. Knelt between his legs, your own palms slowly snake up his thighs only to meet at either side of the place that your curiosity mostly resides. Eyes fluttering up towards his own again before you go any further, one corner of his lips perking upwards in fondness has your nerves quelling just ever so slightly, though not nearly enough to put the entirety of the issue to bed.
"Do you...feel it?"
Fingers curling into the elastic waistband of his briefs, you tug them down along his slender hips gently to expose the long, hard, length of his cock to your eyes in totality. Part of you is almost surprised to find him to be erect at all, though you suppose it wouldn't make much sense, otherwise. You've done enough reading to know physical intimacy to very much be a feature of many persocom models, and especially custom builds, it should come as no surprise now.
Juyeon was built to serve many needs of someone's, and sex was most certainly one of them.
Taking him into your palm, the contact brings a jolt from him, and you suppose that's answer enough to the question. Juyeon answers still.
"I feel everything," he sighs out, reveling in the feeling of your hand along his shaft. "Pleasure, pain...I feel it all."
At that, you begin a languid, lazy pace along him, watching the way his chest heaves and falls with every stroke — amazed by how real he feels in your hand. Long, but not particularly thick, his cock weighs heavy in your palm, and even seeing a beading of precum at the slit surprises you, thumb coming up to swirl it along the wide, blunt tip of him.
He writhes beneath your touch at that, a groan caught in his chest while dark eyes stare down at you.
"You have...cum?" you question, still slowly swirling the liquid around the head and enjoying the unraveling of him like this.
While erotic in the most basic sense, something about the situation feels clinical, nearly scientific, in a sense. Even with Juyeon's cock in your hand as you stroke him off like this, you can't help but think it a bit like an experiment. Unsure touches that lack fundamental understanding, rather than something truly intimate and sexual in nature between two people. In the meanwhile, your free hand slowly traverses the exposed flesh of his abdomen just up the way…smooth to the touch by familiarly muscular beneath the pads of your fingers.
Maybe this ought to be how the first time goes, you can't be sure one way or another.
Barely capable of holding his head upright and with only one eye cracked open to look down at you, Juyeon forces out a reply as best he can. "Not in the traditional sense, of course, but you wouldn't know the difference in the moment."
"How?"
"Won't it ruin the allure?" he chuckles under his breath, though it hitches at the tail end with a particular flick of your wrist along him. "Knowing the technical workings of it all?"
You don't answer him, at least, not verbally; instead, you lean forward to take him into your mouth with a swirl of your wet, warm tongue over the head of his cock to taste him in full.
It earns you a full bodied groan, one that you've apparently been dying to hear.
Slowly bobbing along half of his length, you're only given a few moments of taking him before you feel a strong hand under your jaw — carefully pulling your mouth up and off of him to instead look him in the eye as he speaks to you.
"I can still cum in you," he whispers out, thumb ghosting over the wet of your bottom lip and lewdly pushing his hips up to glide the tip of his cock against your messy, used mouth. "More than most, if that's what you like."
The words bring such a painful throb to the space between your legs.
"What else can you do?"
Educational talk has officially teetered over into dirty talk, foreplay. Suppose that was bound to happen, all things considered.
You don't take Juyeon properly into your mouth again, instead allowing him to simply drag the wet mixture of spit and precum along your lips and chin in such a pornographic display that it has his eyes gazing down at you just that much more hooded and full of lust than you've ever seen before. It's intoxicating how he views you like this, and for a man that already teetered on the edge of unfathomable levels of sex appeal, you question whether it possible for anyone to look more seductive than he does now.
"Fuck you as long as you want, as hard as you want," Juyeon finally answers in just above a whisper, voice laden with desire. "Any time, any position. Anything you want, and the best part—" he questions, though you think to know where he's going with this already.
The anticipation of hearing the words pooling in your gut in what can only be described as unbridled arousal: the promise of unmatched sexual desire. No one will ever fuck you the way that Juyeon can fuck you, because it is quite literally impossible by human standards.
"—I never finish before you do."
Endless stamina, a cock that is always hard, capable of orgasm and continuing to serve you...precisely the kind of information that once upon a time, you were hoping to avoid ever learning.
And as if he can see the world spinning inside of your head with this newfound information, Juyeon leans forward in his seat to bring your arms into his hands — pulling you closer, he slots his lips against your own all over again even in spite of the mess. This time, however, the kiss is far needier, more hurried, laced with a wanting that you could have never guessed lied buried within him all this time.
Has it been, or is he simply meeting you where he must as per his programming?
Breaking the kiss, Juyeon only allows mere centimeters between your mouths before breathing the request into yours.
"Let me make you feel good."
Letting him take the lead, you melt into the touch of him pushing you up to your feet once more as his fingers go to work at front of your pants. Little time is wasted before the fabric is pooled at your ankles and you are urged to step out of it, when just as quickly, Juyeon takes your hips into his hands to pull you forward and settle atop him with a knee nestled into the cushions of your couch and on either side of his own.
Hovering over his lap, you feel the careful nudge of the tip of his cock as it settles firmly against your entrance but with no real insistence to enter you just yet. Instead, Juyeon's hands as well as his attention is turned upwards to your chest with soft palms grazing the skin and warm, wet lips wrapping around one of your nipples in just the perfect amount of pressure that has your head spinning.
Tongue digging firm circles into the sensitive bud, you almost miss the way one of his arms slithers around the small of your back as if to hold you snug in place against him, but just as quickly it becomes rather evidently all a part of his plan as you finally feel the intrusion of the wide, blunt head of his length prying you open from below and pulling your body down to sink onto him in full.
It's a slow, careful process — and for that you're thankful with no physical preparation done on your end. In ways, you prefer it that way — like this, it feels real, it feels raw. Sometimes sex simply happens without the bells and whistles and without the luxuries of time, or foreplay.
Sometimes, people just need to feel each other.
Teeth digging into your bottom lip to pull back the whine that threatens to escape you — feeling impossibly full of him like this as your hips settle flush in his lap — there's a passing moment where you worry of him being too big with the looming threat of him at the deepest ends of your insides, instead, Juyeon leverages his above-average strength to lift you off of him just at the precipice of too much before gently gliding you along his shaft all over again for friction that is just so fatally exquisite.
Getting a handle of your bearings and shifting your weight to take more of an active role, you roll your hips against his own as Juyeon shifts the grip his arm has on you to instead hook up at the top of your shoulder from behind — better to pull you down hard against him, fill you deeper with himself as you find a rhythm atop him that starts to suit you.
You can't hold back the whimpers, though you'd like to try, and looking down at Juyeon beneath you as you ride him, part of you wants nothing more than to ignore the explicit adoration that shines in his eyes as he watches you like this.
"Good?" he asks quietly, as if not wanting to interrupt when the answer is so obvious, anyway. You nod quickly, Juyeon pulls you down onto his cock harder as if in affirmation of your reply, and you moan out loudly for him as a result. "Want to watch you cum."
"Fuck," you gasp out, as if the mere request enough to get you there already. "I'm close, I'm close don't stop, don't—"
"Harder?" he asks you now, and all you can chant out is breathy 'yes'' in reply.
Juyeon shifts his position from beneath you just slightly, slinking down so to have better leverage of his feet against the floor and you immediately realize why when he meets your comparatively useless fall along his cock with a hard, full drive of himself up into you instead.
The force just about knocks the air out of your lungs, but more than that, the friction has you seeing God.
It takes little more of that — thighs trembling and abdomen clenching in orgasmic promise as you grit your teeth through the most euphoric release you think to have ever experienced in your life up until now. Juyeon's hips never falter, never slow — because why would they? Never at the whims of his own humanity or release, he can fuck you just as hard, just as fast, all of the way through your own orgasm and past the point where other men may lose themselves to the stimulation...
Not him.
Sounds of wet skin pressing hard and fast together ringing heavy in your ears — it's all you, that much you know — how drenched you are around his dick as he still continues to drive into you even after the peak of your orgasm falls off, it's only now that you realize that Juyeon will simply continue fucking you like this unless you ask him to stop — ask him to finish for himself.
Leaning down, you capture his mouth into yours all over again — a bit teethier and ill-coordinated than the previous times but much needed all the same, the man beneath you is happy to meet you in such intimacy, and like this, you whisper your own request against his dry, bitten up lips.
"You can cum, want you to cum."
Meeting the words with a throaty groan, Juyeon cocks his head to the side to kiss at you better before pulling away and speaking against your mouth once more. "Want to feel me fill you up?"
The grip his fingers have on your body stiffens then, one of your own carding through the damp, black strands that stick to his forehead as a result of the goings on now. Juyeon fucks up into you hard and fast again as if chasing an orgasm of his own and as the curve of his cock drags against your g-spot all over again, fingers curling into the hair at his scalp much harder than anticipated as he threatens to take you there all over again, your eyes clench shut at the familiar throb of him as he buries himself deep within your walls for one, last time and with a deep, almost pained groan through gritted tight teeth.
Clenching down around his cock like this you can feel him empty inside of you in waves — gentle pulses of his cum pumping heavy within you.
Then, silence. Nothing more than the quiet, rhythmic sounds of two people attempting to catch their breath in the aftermath of...who knows what, really.
Juyeon sleeps with you again that night, just as he had already done previously. The only difference this time being the way delicate, long fingers fish for yours beneath the sheets.
Four, loud knocks at your front door is not how you wish to be startled into consciousness.
More than that, the distinct sound of a familiar woman's voice sounding out through the otherwise empty halls.
Stomach leaping into your throat, this is bad. Really bad. For a plethora of reasons, but most of all because of what — and who — still resides next to you in a deep and seemingly much needed slumber.
Last night was a lot, for the both of you; your thighs are sore and frankly the remanence of stinging throb that is still harbored between your legs serves as just as much of a reminder as anything of the series of decisions that led you to this very moment.
But you don't have time to mull over the hows and whys, because you have to get up, get dressed, and present somewhat properly before your friend wanders into your bedroom and stumbles upon the aftermath of such a thing herself.
You intercept the situation well enough, however; robe slipped on over your form and sitting her down at the dining room table for a late breakfast — a surprise visit, great, though less sarcastically so under usual circumstances. She brings breakfast and you're at least thankful for that because you are starving after the appetite worked up under last night's activities and you question whether you have the strength in your legs even now to stand at the stove long enough to cook something up for yourself, much less for a guest, as well.
Juyeon is no where to be found still, even an hour after your awakening. For that, you are thankful, though you know it not to last forever. Your home is his home, and he has free roam of it as he should...especially now, especially with the way that things have unfolded between the two of you.
Whatever your relationship is with him now, it is forever changed in some way, shape, or form. Lines have been crossed and while you're certain of his ability to simply carry on as though nothing has ever happened should you ask it of him...
Can you?
Shoveling another slice of fluffy pancake into your mouth as she carries on about what it is that she has been up to since having moved away from the city that the two of you once shared, your mind remains clouded with not only the what of your plans to disclose, but beyond that, the mere fact that you simply must.
And the window to do so draws quickly to a close.
"I have to tell you something," you finally say. The words are quiet, already somewhat beaten down in anticipation for a less than thrilled response from the friend sitting just across the way. She's not particularly judgmental, no, but this? This?
It wasn't all that long ago that you sat on the same side of the moral fence on this particular quandary as her.
"What—" she begins, and while at first you believe her to be inquiring about your words, the direction in which her eyes gaze — fully beyond you and back towards the bedroom door gives away that you have run out of time, entirely.
Shit.
"—Is this?"
Eyes closing slowly in a bout of displeased defeat, you exhale heavily before turning around to inspect the scene: it couldn't be worse if you had tried to set it up as such, either — Juyeon standing just outside of the bedroom and fully in sight of the both of you, freshly washed and nude from the waist up...only a towel held closed by hand at his hip to keep anything shrouded from the eye, at all.
He exits just as quickly, fast on the pickup and most certainly not needed for this.
Turning back to view your friend, the scowl evident on her features — a question of what happened here, how did we get here written all over her, though you can't imagine she'll offer as much in a verbal sense.
"I'm going to ask you this one time," she states calmly, though the displeasure in her tone is beyond evident. You don't want her to ask, because you don't want to tell her the truth, but you will. "Are you...involved with your persocom?"
Silence so heavy you could hear a pin drop, and picking at the skin around your fingernails in nervousness, you pull a shaky inhale into your lungs before delivering precisely the answer that you know she does not want to hear.
"Yes."
"Really?" she bites back, equal parts disappointment and disgust that you can hear all too plainly. "You're having sex with the android that cleans your bathroom? You're got to be fucking kidding me."
"It's not like that," you hurriedly answer with a whine. It sort of is like that, but too much simplicity behind the words, too little nuance, there's so much more to the circumstances and the goings on and everything surrounding...everything, that to say it like that doesn't do it justice: it doesn't do the situation justice, and it most definitely doesn't do Juyeon justice, either. "It wasn't like that for a long time, it was never my intention. I tried— "
She scoffs, cutting you off from the thought. "You tried? Tried what? To not fuck him? How hard could it possibly have been? Surely you're not so lonely and pathetic that you have to resort to settling in for a life with a custom built, glorified sex toy for life."
Hearing someone speak about Juyeon like this does something inexplicable to you in a way that you couldn't have anticipated. Bubbling rage in your gut at referring to him as nothing more than perhaps, quite literally, what he truly is — still, you cannot bear it. Can't bear to hear it, and especially not with such contempt in ones voice.
He is more than that, you know that to be the truth. You live with him, you speak to him, you share a life with him.
Briefly, you think back to all of those people you read posts from early in the days of your meeting, the claims of nearly certain sentience in their persocoms. Hints of life. True life. True free will.
You can't prove it, but you suppose that much like so many other things, some beliefs reside wholly on faith.
It is your truth, and that's all that you need now.
"Do you have feelings for him or something?"
Without missing a beat, you answer her. "Yes."
She rolls her eyes. "Oh, give me a break."
"You don't know what it's like, what he's like. Juyeon is so real, thoughtful and kind and full of life and love in a way you couldn't possibly ever understand unless you experience it for yourself. You know just as well that I used to feel the same way about the concept of such a thing, but now that I've lived it..."
"You cannot have feelings for your persocom."
"I care for him," you plead with a defeated shake of your head.
"It's not real, he isn't real," your friend insists, pushing herself back in the dining room chair with obvious intent to leave and hear no more of what goes on here any longer. "You're living in a fantasy land, and I don't want any part of it."
Grabbing her belongings, the woman that you once called your best friend exits your apartment in a flurry — you don't have time to offer any more explanation or understanding, not that you think it would quell the situation at hand, anyway, but the sinking feeling in your chest of not only loss, but guilt once again reminds you of all of the reasons that you may have been right the first time around. That maybe this is wrong, that you are wrong for allowing this to reach this point, at all.
Cleaning up the table full of plates of half eaten food that tell a story of a meeting gone horribly wrong, you consider doing the dishes here and now — and typically, you might, but the nagging feeling in your gut paired with the all too apparent absence of Juyeon calls you elsewhere in the quiet of the walls of your living space.
Knocking gently at the wooden door frame of your bedroom, the door is open, and in spite of it being the middle of the day, the flash of lightning oozing in through the rain drenched window on the opposite end causes it to feel equally gloomy in ambiance as the mood otherwise feels, anyway.
Along the way, Juyeon sits at the edge of the bed, as if in wait of you to come and find him like this. He is dressed now — a simple black t-shirt and loose, black sweatpants — oddly enough, it feels as though he is dressed in anticipation of somewhere to go.
Slowly walking inside, the rain pelts against the window so roughly that you're not sure Juyeon capable of hearing you should you wish to speak to him in a whisper, thus, you seat yourself at the edge of the best beside him with a palm lightly placed over one of his knees.
He heard everything, you know that well enough with the way that sound carries through your tiny living arrangements. Aside from that, you know him capable of feeling — beyond the projection of his sentience that you feel yourself so sure of, how much of his ability to feel even just at a base level; hardware, software, whatever it is that makes him the who and what that he is — Juyeon feels, and immensely so from the way that sadness wears so evidently on his features now.
You can't help but wonder if this isn't the first time he has lived through circumstances such as this. Memories wiped and primed for rebooting with a new person, a new life; all the while dressed and ready once again to take his leave, though why that urge settles within his bones so strongly, he himself can't even be sure.
"Should I go?"
The words, while anticipated, tug painfully at your heart. Lips down turning into a frown, you squeeze his knee beneath your grasp before leaning further against him and pressing your head to his shoulder in comforting embrace.
"No," you answer quietly. "I don't want you to leave."
Shifting slightly, Juyeon turns to face you more, wrapping long, strong arms around you in an embrace that you think to be something of a thank you for not abandoning him once more. Pulling from one another slowly, you reach up to cradle his face into the palms of your hands as you look deeply into his eyes: beautiful, and endlessly dark but glittering and so full of life, all the same — moments like these, like this, you're so certain of what lies beneath.
So much more than what you're told, so much more than what you had bargained for.
This time, you pull him into the kiss.
Rather than the trepidation of uncertainty, laced within these lips now is a sense of knowing, and allowing your hands to fall from his face to instead search for the bottom hem of his shirt, upon finding it, you feel the knowing grin of his lips twist against your own.
And with that, a tug of the fabric upward.
Juyeon slips his shirt off quickly, tossing it to the floor elsewhere along the room and you waste little more time shrugging off the robe that you earlier had no choice in putting on, anyway. Perhaps a wise choice as you're reminded of having worn nothing more under it, he's swift in maneuvering you in a way that suits him as he pulls up from the bed and instead pushes you back along it — following up the length of your body as his hips settle between your legs and lips once again slot against your own.
This time it feels different. Less curiosity, less learning. Now? Simply experiencing him.
Forearm pressed into the mattress beside your head, Juyeon's other hand feathers down the flesh of your torso towards precisely where you want him to be — delicate fingers ghosting over your skin in such a way that the tiny hairs raise in the wake of his touch, everything that Juyeon does is with intent to have you melting beneath him, and not only does it work, but it's far better than you could have ever imagined.
As his middle finger finds its mark between your legs, slipping between your slit and slowly rubbing circles into the sensitive nub of your clit, his lips slip down from yours to kiss along your jaw; down the column of your neck and settling just at the juncture between your shoulder, carefully sucking and nibbling marks into the supple flesh at his mercy.
Back arching into his touch, you want to feel him more and again. It hasn't even been that long since the last time, but with so much promise of what's to come, you find your body reacts in such a way that you barely capable of reigning it in. Every touch of Juyeon's is perfect, both in placement and pressure. Never too hard, nor too soft, always the precise, right amount.
Slipping a finger into you, you can't help but press your hips down and against his hand in a bid to feel more. Juyeon grins into the skin of your neck as you do, the feeling of his teeth that much more evident and bringing about even more of a pulse of your needy walls around the single digit buried inside of you.
"Juyeon," you finally say, though it comes out as much more of a pathetic, desperate whisper than ever intended. At the sound of it, he begins fucking into you slowly with the very same hand, simulating the precise thing that you both know you're about to ask of him now.
"Please," you whimper now, still grinding down against his hand. "Need more..."
Shifting his weight slightly, Juyeon brings his lips up to your ear before answering back in a whisper. "Want to feel full of me again?"
Arousal throbbing hard around his hand, you hear him huff out an amused laugh against your ear. "You know you can have any part of me that you want, all you have to do is ask."
Pulling up quickly and with no interest in losing more time, Juyeon slips his pants off and to the floor only to settle between your legs once again. This time, however, he sits knelt between your thighs as he brings the same hand back to continue prying you open for his cock, and as you look down to survey the scene, you find him lazily palming over himself as he watches himself work you open.
It's a bit more than you had been ready to take in the sight of, dizzyingly intoxicating and lewd with his lips ever so slightly parted in awe of you and the tight grip of his fist around his length pooling precum at the slit.
Slender and perfectly toned body sitting before you like this, perhaps you never stood a chance, after all.
Finally pleased with the work done, Juyeon slips his fingers from your wetness to instead hook around your thigh and press the underside to his chest — with your calf situated at his shoulder, he urges himself closer, angling his length down to press the wide and glistening tip of his cock at your entrance and with every intention of sinking into you just like this; fully splayed wide for his viewing pleasure.
Firm strokes between your folds, you moan out in need and frustration for him, which only brings an upward curl to his lips just that much more.
He's teasing you.
"Ju— ah —"
Protest quickly lost in your throat as you feel Juyeon begin his initial drive into you — carving out space for himself between your tight walls with slow, intense press of his hips forward — with your body open for him like this he feels even bigger inside of you. Fuller of him with less space inside to accommodate for his size, it feels so soon that surely he will be buried fully inside of you, but with a quick glance down through the tightly knit furrow of your eyebrows, you're quick to learn that the position offers far more than you had originally bargained for.
Humming, Juyeon tugs his bottom lip up between his teeth. It would appear that like the typical man, he's facing the mortal fear of desperately trying to fight back to urge to cum, but knowing better, you can only imagine that you feel fucking exquisite around his dick.
"Doing so good," he says after all, jaw nearly hung open as the last remaining signs of his length disappear inside of you. "So full. Pussy is so small, couldn't possibly take more."
Pussy throbbing around him as he says the words, Juyeon groans quietly with the first withdrawal before slowly pushing back inside of you all over again — slightly faster this time, and almost as if he anticipates you to break from under him.
Up until now, your mouth remains shut knowing well enough that should your lips part nothing more that desperate whimpers and whines will spill out, but needing more from him, you have little option presented to you.
"Juyeon," you say first, little more than a pained whisper falling from bitten red lips. Narrow, dark eyes fall to your own in anticipation of what it is that you're going to say, but likely nothing could have prepared him for the request being made of him, next.
"Break me, Juyeon. Make me yours."
Careful, gentle eyes turning nearly menacing, threatening at the words; Juyeon's grip into your thigh harshens suddenly followed by a quick, hard snap of his hips against your own — so rough that it has you shoving up the bed, it's following subsequently by more and more as he settles into a ravishing pace into you, delivering repeated, firm, drives of his cock against your walls and with the angle that he has now, the perfect curve of his length serving as the most immaculate deliverance of friction against your g-spot.
"You look so pretty wrapped around my dick," he manages out through hard fucks into you, eyes dancing their way between your own and the very place that he disappears inside of your needy body. With a firm enough grip of your leg in place and the strength to manage it, his other hand comes down to messily rub wet circles into your clit, and the touch has you crying out just that much more loudly for him, too. "Okay baby, why don't you cum for me? Lemmie make you mine and I'll give you just the reward you deserve."
And it doesn't take long to give him what he wants, either. Between the relentless fullness of his cock inside of you and the filthy words that drop from once seemingly innocent lips, your thighs shake in his grasp and walls tighten that much more around him with the threat of your release as it accompanying yell catches in the dryness of your throat — coil on the verge of snapping, you need something more from him, though you're unsure how to manage it out in time. Grasping desperately out and towards him, he picks up on it quickly — leaning down to meet you face to face as you hurriedly usher the broken words out from your body.
"Cum with me—"
Needing no more instruction, Juyeon settles back into place between your thighs continuing hard against you, and as the coil in your gut snaps with orgasmic release, you force your eyes open to watch the muscles in Juyeon's abdomen tighten just the same; jaw clenched firm and head thrown back momentarily just before his jaw falls slack and the deep, pained groan of release rips through him as he fucks his load fully into you as you cum around him and milk it thoroughly out of his body.
Slowing at the tail end of both of your orgasms, Juyeon's grip on your thigh softens, gently allowing your leg to fall from his shoulder, and while not pulling himself from the wetness of your cunt just yet, as you look up at the sight of him — fucked out and damp with the aftermath of sex that cannot possibly ever be beaten, as he carries on within you in slow, shallow strokes, you suppose that curiosity gets the best of you, yet again.
"Can you...cum again?"
He grins, as if with complete understanding of the filthy implications of such a question.
Gently lowering himself down again, bare chest to bare chest with you once more, Juyeon kisses along your neck once more, along your jaw and meeting at your mouth again. It's gentle, with barely there nips of his teeth at your bottom lip before he offers you an answer to the question.
"So, that's what you like," he whispers into your flesh, tone heavy with desire and the need to meet all of yours. "Make you mine, fill you with my cum over, and over, and over again..."
His hips begin to pick up pace again, firmly pressing the entirety of his still impossibly erect cock between your messy, soaked, walls. "Just want to be unthinkably full of me, don't you? Filthy thing, playing house all this time, wonder how long you've wanted me to make a complete mess of you."
You don't know, you sort of lost track, and you're not entirely interested in revisiting the timeline, either.
Pulling up and out of you abruptly, you're nearly discontented by it until you feel firm, strong hands pulling at your arms and twisting you to turn you over. Falling flat to your stomach, those very same hands gripping hard into your hips from behind and pulling you up to meet his own at just the right angle — you have little time to reconfigure yourself before you feel the blunt prod of his cock reentering you from behind this time...
And it is intoxicatingly electric the way his length pries you open like this.
Wasting little time, Juyeon fucks you hard and fast, slowing only to dip forward and grasp your arms into his hands — a makeshift contraption of you losing your range of motion as you're forced to merely balance on your face and chest with arms pulled harshly behind your back to grant him the leverage to fuck you full of himself just the way that you deserve.
Just the way that you want.
"So wet for me," Juyeon groans between thrusts, the prominent sounds of such evident with every hard meeting of his flesh against yours. "Won't let you lose a drop of my load, is that what you want?"
Barely able to speak, you manage out the most pathetic whimper of affirmation that you possibly can.
"Want to feel me cum inside of you?"
"Y-yes."
"You gotta cum around my dick again then," Juyeon insists, though it doesn't take much with the relentless fullness of him into you from behind, you're already nearly there by the time a hand slinks down between your legs to rub at your pussy all over again. A humiliating few seconds — though you have no concept of time now as it is — before you're crying out and throbbing around him just as requested, and with little more work, Juyeon answers you back with a loud, full groan as you feel his cock pulse and throb with release as he once again fucks you full of the warm, sticky wetness of his cum.
Slowly releasing your arms from his grasp and gently falling forward to lie beside you in the afterglow of all of this, once finished staring at the emptiness of the ceiling and contemplating whether or not there lies a specific place in hell for people just like you, you feel the familiar touch of Juyeon's delicate fingers as they find your own, slotting between and taking your hand firmly into his embrace.
"I think I'm in love with you."
As consciousness takes you once again the next morning, you're at least thankful for the fact that it's not the knocking and yelling of a friend that you no longer are acquainted with that awaits you — instead, Juyeon stands at the edge of the bed with coffee and breakfast made, though not on much of a silver platter on account of your not having one — it's a cutting board, but hey, it's the thought that counts.
Head sweetly cocked to the side, Juyeon looks down at you with fondness that once upon a time you may have shrugged off entirely as nothing more than a part of his programming. Now, with a new understanding not only of him, but perhaps of yourself and life as a whole, you find yourself far more willing to accept things as they are — whatever that is, and simply...in the moment.
Juyeon looks at you with unbridled love and adoration, because he does love you, and he does adore you. No matter the hows or the whys or the wheres that it may come from, this is the truth; this is your truth, and this is Juyeon's truth.
Now that love has slowed down, you're simply grateful for the ability to have caught up to it.
♡ send me your thoughts and feelings in my ask (⌒‿⌒)
—this is a oneshot, there will be no part 2.
sunric valentine's day special pt 1. you ask sunwoo, who's your roommate and the perfect guy, to pretend to be your boyfriend for a valentine's day couples contest. little did you know, he has very large feelings for you...
genre: tooth-rotting cotton candy type fluff, roommates to lovers, fake relationship/taking pictures pretending to be a couple, shy and whipped sunwoo, wearing his hoodie!!! holding hands, sweet kisses, confessions, reader is bold and competitive
notes: is it too early for valentines day? yes and i don't care 😚
word count: 6.4k
You never cared for Valentine’s Day. It wasn’t because you were jealous or sulky about having no one to spend it with or being lonely without anyone to kiss. You’ve heard about those types of complaints plenty of times from your friends. You simply found it irrelevant and not a day to spend so much time on when you could be doing anything else.
But that was then and this is now.
Now you cared. You were lying in bed, staring at your phone screen in complete awe.
Annual Valentine’s Day Couples Contest!
Win a mystery prize for posting pictures with the most likes!
You quickly sat up, your eyes brightening. One would think that you were focused on the “couples” part of the title. But no, you were instead eyeing the words, “contest” and “prize.” Anyone who knew you was aware that you adored competition. No matter how stupid the competition was, the thrill of competing and possibly winning a prize for your hard work was, what you believed, the most beautiful thing of life. Your friends would stare at you weirdly.
You didn’t even care if you didn’t know what the mystery prize actually was. It must be money or food. Either way, you looked up with a determined look. You were going to win this, even if you didn’t exactly have anyone to be a couple with.
Just as you were mulling over the possible choices, the door unlocked to your dorm. That was when you gasped in realization. He was right in front of you. He would be perfect.
“Be careful, Y/n.” Sunwoo walked in, shivering with flurries of snow decorating his fluffy hair. “It’s cold and slippery outside. I almost made a whole fool of mys–”
“Would you be my boyfriend?”
And almost like the wood floor was suddenly slick with ice, he slipped and almost fell flat on his face if it weren’t for the desk that he so desperately held on to. After regaining his balance, he stood up, brushed himself off, and then stared at you as if to silently ask, Are you absolutely crazy?
“Don’t give me that look,” you grumbled.
“W-we haven’t even gone on a proper date. I planned it out alre–” He choked once he realized that you were looking at him in amusement.
“You…” You had to suppress a laugh. “You already planned out a date for me? But we’re only roommates.”
His cheeks were already tinted red from the bitter cold outside. But for some reason, they reddened even more if that was possible. “I was kidding…” He looked away as he took off his coat and set down his bag. He shivered slightly before sitting next to you, still unable to look you in the eye.
You giggled and pulled out your phone, showing him the contest. “I should have specified for you to be my fake boyfriend.”
He stared at it blankly before turning to you with disbelief. “You want to fake being a couple just so you can win a prize that you don’t even know what it is?”
You nodded as if that was the most normal thing to say ever. “Yes. Is that so bad?”
He narrowed his eyes. “We’re just roommates. This is cheating.”
You scoffed. “Fine then.”
“That’s it?” He widened his eyes, giving you one of those round, puppy-like gazes that always made it hard for you to tease him. “No objections?”
You shrugged with an exaggerated frown. “No,” you sighed, much louder than needed. To add to the effect, you even scooted away from him and crossed your arms over your chest. In the corner of your eye, you could see him reach out to you with worry. And to make things just that much worse, you muttered a quiet, “I guess I’ll find someone else then.”
“No!” He blurted out, suddenly reaching forward and grabbing your hand. When you turned to him while biting back a smile, you realized that he was pouting.
“Oh? So you change your mind.”
“Don’t…” He bit his lip nervously. “Don’t go with anyone else.”
Finally, your grin broke through. Your excitement washed over you like a wave to the seashore as you quickly scooted back towards him. He stared at you in surprise. But to his further shock, you leaned close, right up against him so that your lips were only centimeters away from his.
He looked like he was about to explode.
“What are you doing?” He whispered, his expression adorably flustered.
You smiled lazily. “Just getting into character.”
He furrowed his eyebrows and tried to avoid your eyes but failed miserably. His voice was shaky as he asked, “By leaning closer?”
“Mhm,” you hummed. “Do you want me to do more?”
You could tell that Sunwoo’s mind flashed to… other scenarios when you said that. But putting those possible images aside, you cupped his face with your hands. Then, you squeezed them and started rambling.
“My sweet, sweet boyfriend. Aren’t you cold? Do you want me to kiss it away? And–” You cut yourself off with a snort, unable to take any of this seriously. Sunwoo was your roommate of a few years. It was different to pretend like you were dating him after accidentally falling asleep in his bed so many times.
“This is so funny,” you laughed. “Can you believe what I just said?” Except you trailed off when you looked up, only to see that he was staring at you with big eyes and red cheeks. There was a sort of hopefulness behind his gaze and you could almost feel his heart which was beating a mile a minute. “Wait a minute. You…”
“No,” he whispered, cringing as if he already knew what you were going to say.
“You liked it. You liked me babying you!” You exclaimed in revelation.
He groaned. “I didn’t.”
“You did.” You smiled wider. “What should I call you? My love?”
He stared at you, clearly not fazed.
“Angel? Cutie pie?”
He looked away and grumbled, “You’re embarrassing me.”
“Hm…” You leaned against his shoulder. The two of you were close as such. Though you only met through just being roommates, you got along perfectly well. Sunwoo who was significantly less energetic than you, always treated you well and tended to cheer you up when you were down. You did the same for him, always cracking jokes just to see that laugh and smile that rarely appeared.
You looked up at him, causing him to gulp and stare back. “What about baby?”
It seemed that you had hit the center of the target. That pet name was enough to send him reeling and then clearing his throat. He turned away and tried to cover his face with his hands.
“I… I hate it,” he whispered.
“Doesn’t seem like it,” you teased back. “Baby.” You marveled at the way he blushed further as he stood up abruptly and made his way to his bed that was just across yours. And like the absolute fool he was, he plopped down and screamed in his pillow.
You laughed loudly. “You do know I’m still here, right?”
“I’m ignoring you,” he mumbled, his voice muffled in the pillow.
“You can’t,” you sang. “We still have to take cute couple pictures.”
“I’ll get back to you later.”
Sunwoo approached you cautiously the next day. His hands fidgeted and he still struggled to look you in the eye.
“Let’s do it.”
“Just like that?” You stared at him slyly.
He nodded quietly. “Don’t… don’t make me take it back.”
“Okay,” you giggled. “I already have an idea for the first picture.”
“And that is?” He raised an eyebrow as he watched you get up from your bed. You walked over to his closet and opened it. He was suspicious, observing how you rummaged through his clothes before pulling out one of his hoodies. You held it up over your body and looked at him for confirmation. Except, he had no idea what exactly he was confirming.
“You want me to wear it?” He frowned.
You shook your head. “Can I wear it?”
His eyes widened comically. His gaze wandered over you again, but this time, taking note of how the hoodie was significantly larger on you than on him. “Wear… my hoodie?”
You nodded enthusiastically. When you caught on to how unsure he looked, you gave him a pleading look. Sunwoo gulped. You knew how hard it was for him to say no if you put on the right expression.
“Fine.”
With ease, almost like you had stolen his hoodie before already, you pulled it over your head. Immediately, it consumed you in warmth and it smelled just like him. You held your arms out and turned back to him, tilting your head questioningly.
“What do you think?”
The man simply could not even speak. He had no words but you could tell just by looking at him. He blinked and looked away, his ears turning an alarming red. His hands grasped onto the bed as if to try to keep himself from somehow falling off it.
“You…” His voice trailed off, looking back to you. Previously, he was just avoiding his eyes but now he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. You liked it when he looked at you like that–so admiringly with a soft gaze. It made you feel weird inside. “Cute. You look cute.”
You laughed. “Thank you.” You approached him and held your hand out to gesture him to get up. But instead of following your gesture, he straight up took hold of your hand, his thumb caressing the back of it. “Oh.” You stared at him, wide-eyed. Still, you quickly recovered and led him over to the nearby mirror set up in your dorm.
You stood in front of him and gently led him to stand close behind you.
Then, you said something that left him coughing on plain air.
“Backhug me.”
“What?” He squawked. Yet again, he was blushing. You didn’t know you were that capable of making him blush so much.
When you stared at him expectantly, he could only sigh. Hesitantly, you felt two arms tentatively being wrapped around your waist. His hold was gentle, almost like he was afraid to hurt you in some way. He leaned closer and tightened his embrace ever so slightly. You couldn’t help but feel your heart skip a beat at the way he held you so gently and warmly.
“Like this?” He whispered into your ear.
A quick “mhm!” was all you could reply with. You pulled your phone out and positioned it to take a picture of the mirror reflection. When you zoomed in, you could see how embarrassed Sunwoo was as he rested his chin on your shoulder. You suppressed a giggle. “You can hide your face if you want. It can create suspense.”
He happily obliged as he turned his head to instead hide his face in the crook of your neck. You tried not to shiver at how his lips and breath brushed against your skin.
The picture turned out perfectly with how his arms wrapped around you firmly and your giddy smile could be seen. Only Sunwoo’s fluffy hair was visible as he nuzzled into your neck. You couldn’t help but think… why did this look so realistic?
“Okay,” you whispered, patting his hand. “We’re done.”
But even after that, Sunwoo refused to let go. Instead, he held you closer, pulling your back to his chest. You gasped quietly.
“Sunwoo?”
“I like holding you like this,” he mumbled, almost sleepily. It was like he was in some sort of trance.
Your heart was beating a million times faster now. “You like hugging me? Do you want to do it everyday then?”
He looked up and quickly pulled away as if he just realized what he was doing. “I–” When he caught sight of your teasing face, he groaned and pulled away. “Forget what I said.”
“I don’t think I can.” You grinned. “Hug me again if you want.”
He stared longingly like he really did want to. But instead, he tore his gaze away and headed into your shared bathroom, mumbling to himself.
“What was I thinking?”
You couldn’t help but smile fondly. Who knew your roommate could be so endearing?
“You know what would be cute?” You stood at his bed. Sunwoo was lying down, watching something on his phone as he stared up at you skeptically. You didn’t even allow him to answer. “Candid photos.”
“Candid photos?” He furrowed his eyebrows with confusion. His eyes traveled down to where you slightly shivered from the cold weather. Almost immediately like it was the most natural thing, he held up the blankets so that you could climb in. You happily obliged, snuggling up to his warm body.
This was what you meant by “accidentally falling asleep on his bed so many times.” He always offered you his bed when you were cold and somehow, you would open your eyes to the morning sun.
“Candid photos!” You exclaimed, causing him to wince ever so slightly. “And they have to be real. You know, the type where you really have no idea that the camera’s on you.”
“How’re we gonna do that?” He muttered, yawning. “We’re always aware of each other.” It was only the afternoon yet for some reason, whenever you were cuddled up to him, he became a lot more sleepy.
You thought for a moment before shrugging. “I don’t know, it was just an idea. I doubt it’ll really work out.”
He hummed silently before he readjusted the blankets over you, prioritizing your warmth over his. You smiled and began to start rambling about random topics that came up in your head. That was what you liked about Sunwoo. He was quiet but he always listened.
But maybe… always was an overstatement.
You paused abruptly. Sunwoo had fallen asleep, his lips pulled into a natural pout. You couldn’t help but look at him in endearment.
“Do I talk too much?”
When he didn’t respond, you sighed and were about to leave the bed. But then, a hand caught your wrist, pulling you back in.
“You don’t talk too much,” he mumbled.
“You’re… awake?”
“Barely. Now keep on talking. I like it.”
Your heart swelled.
You were slowly losing your battle with exhaustion. You sat at the library desk, your eyesight growing blurry as you stared hopelessly at your computer. You needed to finish up an assignment but the lack of sleep was definitely getting to you.
To no avail, your head slumped down and you quickly fell asleep with your cheek resting in your arms.
It took Sunwoo, who was studying next to you, a while to notice that your typing had long stopped. But when he did, he peered down at you to make sure you were okay. Of course, you were. You just fell asleep.
He shook his head. Typical. Yet he couldn’t let go of the fond smile that overtook his lips.
He took off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders. Then, he sat back down next to you and chose to simply admire your features. His heart bloomed and his feelings grew impossibly larger.
Pretty even when asleep.
After admiring you for a little while longer, he spotted his phone nearby and came up with an amazing idea. He opened the camera and took a picture, making sure not to get any bad angles of you. He smiled adoringly at the picture.
Your eyes were shut and your cheek was squished against your arm. But even so, he thought you were just beautiful. In the very corner of the picture, his hand was resting on your head, stroking through your hair ever so gently. As quietly as he could, he put down his phone and returned to stroking your hair.
And even after you woke up and the two of you headed back together, he still found himself staring at the picture late at night with a stupidly bewitched smile.
You giggled quietly at the amount of likes and comments that the two of you had received from the first picture. Your eyes landed on one of the comments made by your very own friend.
finally !!!! 🥰
“Finally?” You mumbled to yourself, staring at your phone perplexed. You looked up to steal a glance at Sunwoo, only to find him sitting at his desk, earphones plugged in. He was writing things down in a notebook but you were more focused on his handsome face.
You were no stranger to the fact that Sunwoo was a good-looking guy. He had pretty yet masculine features, pouty lips, and what you liked the most–his fluffy hair. Sometimes but very rarely, he let you play with it.
Where you were sitting was the perfect angle to capture his sharp jawline. You quickly brought up your phone and snapped a picture.
“Aha!” You suddenly yelled, loud enough for Sunwoo to startle and pull off his earphones. He stared at you in alarm. You were standing up, looking at your phone like you had just won the lottery. “I got it! The candid photo.” You held up your phone, showing off the picture you took of him sitting at his desk.
His cheeks flushed as his eyes scanned over it.
“Why now?” He whined.
“You looked handsome.”
Sunwoo froze, his whole body going rigid. “I did?”
“Of course baby.”
He scowled, trying his best to look annoyed but ultimately failed. You could see how embarrassed he was over being complimented and from that particular pet name.
“Don’t call me that,” he mumbled.
“Okay.”
His head snapped up. “Wait actually–”
“Okay, baby.” You grinned at him with amusement. You knew that he was going to immediately take his words back. Once he heard the pet name again, he practically melted at the sound of it.
“Oh, I…” He pulled out his phone. “I took one of you too.”
You widened your eyes in surprise. “You did? When?”
“Yesterday,” he shyly replied. He showed you the picture of you asleep in the library after failing to finish an already overdue assignment. You cringed and hid your face.
“Agh, I look bad,” you complained, a blush appearing on your face. Sunwoo quickly noticed and he stared at you in absolute awe. He thought you were cute like this.
“Why?” He frowned, completely serious. “I thought you looked really pretty.”
“Whoa,” you gasped. “Since when were you so bold?”
He stared at you for a moment as if it was still registering in his head what he just said. And then he coughed awkwardly and averted his gaze. “I won’t take it back.”
You pulled on his arm, letting him sit beside you. “And why’s that?”
“Because it’s true,” he whispered. “You look pretty. All the time.”
Your lips parted as you stared at him in shock. When you asked about him being bold, you didn’t expect him to become even more so. “Sunwoo,” you breathed out. This was normal for roommates, right?
His eyes wandered down to your lips for a brief second before he frantically checked the watch. “I have a meeting with my professor. I– I should go.”
“Wait–”
But he was already grabbing his bag, putting on his shoes, and scrambling out the door. You furrowed your eyebrows and checked the date. His professor certainly wasn’t in office that day. So why exactly did he run away?
“How’d the meeting with your professor go?” You crossed your arms over your chest with a raised eyebrow.
He cringed and avoided your eyes. “I didn’t meet with him.”
“Just as I thought,” you hummed. “But you run away after telling me I’m pretty?” Without even realizing it, you were practically interrogating him, backing him up against the door. He swallowed thickly as he stared down at you with flushed cheeks. You frowned further, noticing how he tried so very hard to avoid your gaze—a clear sign of a lie. “Am I missing something here?”
You couldn’t help but overthink. Was it you? Did you maybe do something wrong that made him regret complimenting you? You would admit that the way he called you pretty with such a low yet admiring voice made your heart flutter ever so slightly. So why did he take it back so quickly?
“Y/n.” He sighed with defeat. His eyes scanned over your face, doused with skepticism and worry. And to your surprise, he was the one who stepped forward, tugging on your arm and pulling you to his chest. “I’m sorry. I got embarrassed.” His voice quieted and you could feel his heartbeat speed up.
You inhaled in surprise, pulling away to stare up at him. “You ran away because you were… shy?” Your eyes soon began to glint with wonder.
He nodded quietly.
“That’s–” you snorted. “That’s so cute.”
“What?” He choked.
“You know you can say anything to me, right? Sunwoo, how could you be so…” Your hands came up to swipe away the hair that fell over his face, revealing his forehead. You had the sudden need to kiss it, but quickly stomped that thought away. Instead, you simply chose to just look into his eyes with an endeared smile, one that sent his face softening and the hand around your waist tightening anxiously.
“So?” He pried shyly.
“So perfect.” You grinned, continuing to play with his hair. Usually, he would flinch or get startled. But this time, he almost melted into your touch like a puppy. After a few more minutes of combing your fingers through his hair, you suddenly pulled away, much to his disliking. You almost missed the way he tried to reach forward for you again.
“Baby, let’s go out on a date,” you spoke casually, almost like you two were a real couple. He tilted his head in confusion.
“Like…”
“Let’s fake go out,” you corrected yourself, overlooking the way his shoulders sank ever so slightly. “Our last post was so popular–the one with the candid photos? So many people are rooting for us.”
Sunwoo quickly brightened when he noticed how wide you were smiling. He always liked it when you were happy. And so, he reached for his coat and beckoned for the door. “Then let’s go.” He charmingly smiled at you back, one that almost made you forget to grab your own coat too.
The two of you opted to take a walk in the park. The weather was beautiful with its bright blue skies and perfectly angled sun. Though, it was still chilly causing you to huddle up to Sunwoo’s side which he seemed to thoroughly enjoy.
“Though this is an early Valentine’s Day contest, do you have an actual valentine when the day comes?” You peered up at him curiously.
He stared at you for a moment before shaking his head sheepishly. “No, I don’t have one.” He paused and looked at you cautiously. “Do you?”
You replied similarly with a shake of your head. Oddly, Sunwoo seemed to relax at your answer.
“Then… wouldn’t you saw that we would be perfect for each other?” You asked teasingly. “Considering we both don’t have anyone.”
You expected Sunwoo to maybe laugh at your joke or refute it with a roll of his eyes. But instead, he gave you a stupidly soft smile as he hummed approvingly. “I’d think so. I think I…” He puffed his chest out. “Would be perfect for you.”
You gaped at him before sputtering with a laugh. You leaned into him, your laughter causing you almost to topple over. “Are you serious?”
“Yes,” he huffed. “Don’t I look serious?”
You raised an eyebrow and stared at how he somehow tried to make himself look tougher and taller. “No.”
He made an incoherent sound with his throat before deflating with defeat. You couldn’t help but giggle, hopelessly endeared. “Sunwoo.”
“Hm?”
“You would be perfect for me,” you said. “Just… you know, without trying to look taller and bigger. I think I like you just how you are.” You scrunched your nose and pinched his cheek.
Sunwoo looked at you with hope in his eyes. “Really?”
“Really.”
He blushed profusely as he desperately tried to come up with some sort of response. All he could come up with was a stuttering, “I like you just how you are too.”
“Thank you,” you teased. Then, you suddenly stopped him. Without an explanation, you ran over to a nearby bench to set your phone down, facing the trail that the two of you were just walking on. He stared at you curiously as you pressed record. “Let’s keep walking,” you spoke, breathlessly.
He smiled, slowly catching on. Your initial plan was to record you walking alongside him while chatting. But instead, your plan came falling down.
Sunwoo was the one who took hold of your hand. His hands were cool but gentle as he hesitantly intertwined his fingers with yours, locking you in his hold. He stared down at you with an absolutely lovesick smile that sent you briefly spiraling with confusion before you decided to push those feelings down to decipher for later.
You experimentally swung his hand making him laugh and tighten his hold on your hand.
“Don’t let go,” he whispered after leaning close to your ear. It was like he didn’t want your phone to pick up his words—like he wanted to preserve affection only for you.
“I won’t.” You grinned. You suddenly felt a huge surge of affection and you leaned your head on his shoulder. He tilted his body slightly so it was more comfortable.
“Do roommates act like we do?” You asked quietly. “You confuse me, Sunwoo.”
His thumb caressed your hand and you could feel the beat of his heart resonate through yours. “I don’t know. But all I know is that I care for you, Y/n.”
You felt your throat go dry. You started to wonder if you were completely oblivious all this time—that maybe his smiles and his tentative touches on you meant something completely else. You weren’t just incredibly close roommates but… something else. Yet, you didn't know what.
“I think we need to talk later,” you whispered.
You felt Sunwoo stiffen next to you and his hand pulled away slightly.
After walking back to your shared dorm with his hand grasped in yours and his jacket now wrapped around your shoulders because you got cold, the two of you sat down on the bed. A silence had befallen the two of you–hesitant and full of possibilities good or bad.
“Sunwoo,” you finally spoke up, turning to him with a concerned face. “I need to ask you something.”
His fists clenched nervously in his lap. “Yeah?”
“What did… all this mean to you? This fake couple thing that we had going on.” You didn’t even know the answer yourself. In the very beginning, you were sure this would just be a simple facade so that you could satisfy your craving for competition. But it no longer was a facade. It was something that left your feelings jumbled into a tangle of romantic emotions for your roommate.
His eyes shifted away. Already, you could tell there was going to be a lie that would leave his lips.
“Nothing. I just wanted to help you.”
“Really?” You inquired slowly.
“Yeah,” he whispered untruthfully. “I– I have to meet a friend now. So–” He got up and almost made his way to the door if you hadn’t held onto his hand and pulled him back to face you. You stepped backward only to realize that you had already run out of space and he was now cornering you against the desk.
You widened your eyes, glancing down to where one hand of his was holding onto yours while the other was resting on the desk. You were close, too close and you didn’t know what to do. It seemed Sunwoo didn’t know either.
“What are we doing?” He quietly asked, his voice low. His gaze shifted across your features nervously.
You furrowed your eyebrows. “Why don’t you tell me?”
“Y/n…”
“First, you call me pretty all the time with those stupid soft eyes and sweet smiles. And then you supposedly stroked my hair while I was asleep? And you– you say that you care for me which, didn’t sound like how a mere friend would say it.” You groaned, a blush appearing on your cheeks. “I just don’t get it.”
“Y/n,” he said again. When you looked up, you realized that he was smiling at you and only you. His gaze was yet again gentle and warm as he let go of your hand and the desk, instead opting to snake them around your waist to pull you into his embrace.
You gasped quietly. And then you grumbled, cursing yourself for relaxing into his warm hold. “Why do you always hug me like this?”
He didn’t answer just yet, instead pulling away to simply stare at your face as if to silently tell you that you were beautiful. When you looked closely, you could see that his ears were red and his pupils dilated.
“And why…” You breathed out shakily. “Why do you look at me like that?”
Even when you tried to glare at him to make him look away, he just kept on looking at you like that. It was like ice how his face would just melt whenever you would come in sight. Sometimes his lips would pull into a pout when he was worried about you. Other times, he would have this faint smile full of fondness whenever you so much as laugh.
And finally, Sunwoo answered. It was quiet and filled with insecurity but you could hear it anyway.
“Because I want you to be my real valentine. I… really like you, Y/n.”
You could feel the walls that you tried to build up quickly come crumbling down. Your hands rested on his chest as you stared up at him in utter shock. “What?”
“This whole time that we’ve been this fake couple, I wanted it to be real,” he whispered, biting his lip shyly. He was hiding back a smile and you admired how cute he looked doing so. “I want to be yours and I want you to be mine. And for a while now.”
Your lips were also fighting back a wide smile. “You want me to be yours?”
He nodded quietly, staring at you unsurely. “But I’m a clumsy fool for you. That’s why I try to run away all the time. Because I… I don’t want you to see that side of me.”
You couldn’t help but giggle. “But I like that side of you.”
“But–”
“And who said I’m not already yours?”
He stared at you as if to try to process your words. When they finally did, he let out a quiet whine and leaned forward to hide his face in the crook of your neck. “But wasn’t this a fake thing for you to win a competition?” He mumbled against your skin, his breath tickling.
You hummed. “I take it back. I hereby state that we’ve been a real couple this whole time. And that’s because I really like you too, Sunwoo.”
His hold on your waist tightened and he pulled back to stare at you with adorably wide puppy eyes. “You do? You–”
You grinned, finally letting your happiness and new feelings overcome you. And this time, you buried your face into him, but instead in his chest, inhaling his familiar, warm scent.
“You can’t joke with me, Y/n.” His voice vibrated throughout your whole body.
“I’m not!” You laughed.
He could only stare at you skeptically. But even with his suspiciousness, you could tell that he too, felt giddy with how his blush had spread to his cheeks.
But, there must be some way to further convince him that you returned his feelings.
That was when an idea hit you. You quickly led him to sit on your bed and pulled out your phone.
“We should take a selfie for the contest.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Now? Right after I just confessed my feelings?” But no matter how tough or nonchalant he tried to look, you could feel his care in the way his hand yet again, found its way around your waist, rubbing circles on your hip as he stared at you attentively.
You nodded slyly. Then, you held up the phone and leaned close so that your cheek was practically against his. Sunwoo smiled awkwardly yet endearingly as he waited for you to press the button.
But instead of simply posing and taking the picture, you decided to turn your head and press a kiss to his cheek. Your phone made the click! sound but all you could hear was Sunwoo’s sharp inhale.
You put your phone down and faced him. Sunwoo was simply speechless, unable to let out a single word. His hand came up to touch the spot that you had just pressed your lips to as he dumbly gaped at you.
“Did you just…”
You nodded, smiling excitedly. “Did that prove it? That I really like you too?”
He could only mutter a quiet yes, his chest heaving up and down.
“Is your heart okay?” You teased.
He held a hand over it. “No, I think I’m dying.”
You burst out laughing, leaning into his side. You opened your phone to look at the picture that you just took. It was adorably hilarious. Sunwoo was staring at the camera, not with that awkward smile, but rather with his lips parted and his eyes wide. Your eyes were closed with your lips in contact with his cheek.
“Isn’t it cute?”
He groaned. “That’s embarrassing. I wasn’t ready.”
“That was the point.” You rolled your eyes.
“Then… can we take another one?” He stared at you hopefully. “And this time, when we’re both ready.”
You immediately knew what he was talking about but chose to tease him further. “And how do we do that?”
He grimaced and took in a deep breath. “You’ll see.”
“Okay.” You smiled, inching closer just to make it a little easier for him. Again, you held up the phone, positioning it so it would capture both of your faces–both flushed with newfound romantic feelings.
Sunwoo then carefully cupped your jaw, turning you to face him. You stared wide-eyed, feeling your heart stutter at just how close he was. Then, he whispered softly, “Can I kiss you, Y/n?” It was at that moment that you began to miss the shy Sunwoo who always ran away because now, you began to feel weak all over, even struggling to hold up your phone.
You nodded slowly and Sunwoo smiled, completely captivated by you. He leaned in after and you closed your eyes, feeling a pair of soft lips on yours. Momentarily, you forgot what moment to press the capture button and instead opted to continuously press it in hopes it would work. But no matter the angle you took the picture, nothing would compare to the feeling of Sunwoo’s gentle touch on you as he tilted your head up and kissed you lovingly.
Soon enough, it seemed that he had gotten too enthusiastic as he pressed further forward, causing you to lose balance and fall back against the bed with a yelp.
“Sunwoo!” You broke apart momentarily, catching your breath. Sunwoo now caged you under his arms, pinning you to the bed. His fluffy hair fell over his forehead adorably and his eyes were full of adoration.
“Sorry.” He smiled sheepishly. “I didn’t think kissing you would feel so nice.”
You stared at him, utterly shocked before sighing with a shy smile. “Then why don’t you continue?”
“Of course,” he whispered, pressing soft kisses to your cheeks first. “Maybe don’t take pictures of this though. This moment is just for us only.”
You snorted, glancing down to where your phone had already fallen to the floor. Sunwoo smiled with a glint in his eyes before he leaned back down to attach his lips again.
“What is that picture?” He groaned, staring down at your phone. You were cuddled up to his side, resting your head on his chest as you scrolled through the pictures you just took.
The first was the cheek kiss which you would never get over with his cute, shocked face. The next was just before the two of you had your first kiss, your cheeks red and Sunwoo’s eyes already looking down at your lips. You swiped to the next picture where the two of you were actually kissing, small smiles forming on both of your lips.
And then there was the last one you took before your phone fell. It was blurry but you could still easily make out what was happening. You were falling backward on the bed as Sunwoo pounced on you from kissing so hard. Sunwoo’s eyebrows were furrowed with focus and you could briefly see your arm that was up in the air, about to grab hold of his neck for balance.
You giggled. “We’re so going to win.”
“Is that all you care about?” He grumbled.
“Is someone sulky?” You cooed. “Don’t worry, I care about you the most.”
He huffed before holding you closer in his embrace. The two of you fell asleep right after he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.
You slapped your hand over your mouth, staring at the post on your screen.
“We didn’t win.”
Sunwoo sat up, blinking heavily from sleep. “What?” He mumbled. “I thought you said we were popular.”
“We were,” you whined. “But another couple still beat us.” You peered at the picture of the winners, recognizing the guy as one of your classmates, Eric. It was a cute photo, you would admit with how he had his hand around his significant other’s waist and how he smiled at them, clearly in love.
He reminded you much like a certain someone.
Sunwoo tilted his head. “So what was the prize then?”
“Oh! Right.” You peered closer. And then you huffed. “It was a free date to a fancy restaurant.”
He stared at you for a while, leaving you confused. But to surprise you even more, he leaned in and kissed you. “Let’s go out today.”
“Where?” You widened your eyes.
“To that fancy restaurant. Who needs the prize when I can pay for it?”
Summary: You and Hyunjae had never really gotten along. But, since he was your brother’s best friend, you couldn’t exactly avoid him your whole life. Especially now that Sangyeon has enlisted Hyunjae to help you study for your classes.
Genre: Fluff, Smut, e2l (kinda)
Pairing: brother’s best friend!Lee Hyunjae x afab!reader
WC: ~6.5k
WARNINGS UNDER CUT
Warnings: Uhhh public sex (car sex), slight age gap (Hyunjae is two years older than reader), oral (m and fem receiving), pet names, switch!Hyunjae, switch!reader, Haknyeon might be scarred for life, swearing, mentions of chemistry, they make out in a library, face-fucking kinda, threats, reader almost kicks the bucket, Hyunjae jumps out a window, Sangyeon is NOT happy, idrk there’s a lot happening MDNI!!!
A/N: Yeah this is uh... yeah
~
“This is so easy, how are you not understanding?” Hyunjae is hunched over beside you, scowling at the seemingly infinite number of red marks he’d made on your worksheet. You scoff at him.
“Sorry to burst your little bubble, Lee Jaehyun, but maybe you should consider the fact that Chemistry doesn’t come easy for everyone.” Maybe take that stick out of your ass and you’d see that.
Lee Jaehyun, or as most people like to call him, Hyunjae was a straight A student. He was nearly perfect in everything. Perfect grades, perfect voice, perfect face, perfect body. He was perfect when it came to the sports he played, he had the perfect family and home. The only horrid thing about him was his attitude.
He was cruel. To you, at least. Maybe just to you, his best friend’s little sister. Maybe he just didn’t like you because you always seemed to be around, always trying to one-up him in everything related to school. Trying to be better than him at math, at english, at extracurriculars. You joined the debate team in high school just to spite him. And he’d be damned if he ever said he felt threatened by you.
If you were being honest, you really didn’t hate him. You liked him, even though he clearly didn’t care for you. You looked up to him, similar to how you looked up to your brother, but Hyunjae was different. He wasn’t just your brother’s best friend. At some point you started going out of your way to try to impress him, even if it never ended well for you. You wanted to spend more time with him, get to know him more.
“I would think that you’d be decent at this,” he sneers at you, “given how you seem to be so good at everything else.” You bite down on your tongue and turn back to the worksheet. The mistakes you’d made were so silly, so you understand why he’d be confused that you’re getting them wrong. Simple miscalculations when balancing equations, simple miscalculations for enthalpy. All of them were simple, and yet somehow you consistently got them wrong. “Your brother wouldn’t be making these mistakes. I thought you idolized him.”
“I’m not Sangyeon,” you snap. “Plus, why would he be taking a chemistry class as an Econ major? He doesn’t need this shit.”
“Gen eds, doll.” Hyunjae smirks at you. “We all had to do them at some point.”
Your tongue was starting to hurt from how hard you were biting on it to avoid yelling at him. You’d forgotten that Sangyeon and Hyunjae were already in their third year of college while you were barely starting your second.
“Don’t call me doll,” you slide your chair forward and lower your head. “Give me another worksheet.” Hyunjae shakes his head. “Dude, give me a worksheet. Let me try again.”
“I’m not giving you another worksheet,” he says as he begins to pack up his things. “You clearly aren’t understanding anything I’m teaching you, so why should I keep helping?” You rise from your chair at the same time as he does, your eyes going wide.
“There’s no way you’re giving up because I get mixed up sometimes.” He looks down at you, almost annoyed that you’re still talking to him. “Lee Jaehyun, you cannot be serious.”
“I’m dead serious, doll. I don’t know why your brother asked me to help you when it’s clear there’s nothing I can do for you.” He turns to walk away, and your hand latches onto his wrist, attempting (and failing) to pull him back. He’s taller than you and definitely a lot stronger. You barely even get him to wobble on his feet, and he hardly stops walking toward the exit of the library. Now, you’re just being dragged along with him.
“Why do you hate me so much?” You jog to stand in front of him, walking backwards (in hindsight, you should’ve known that was a bad idea). “Like, I’ve never done anything wrong to you but you just fucking hate me for no reason. Why?” He’s looking down at you while he walks, jaw tense and eyes narrowed into a glare.
“You’re stuck up and think you’re better than everyone.”
“Yeah, but so do you!” You argue.
“You’re more annoying about it though. Like everyone has to know that you think you’re better than them.” He spits out, and the two of you stop walking, standing outside of the library. The cold air of November bites into your skin, slipping through the gaps of your knit sweater. “You just have to brag about every achievement you get, about every goal you make in soccer, and every award you get from school. You think you’re just some fucking princess that everyone needs to bow down to.”
“Again, you’re the same way!” You snap. You’re walking backwards again, hardly paying attention to where you’re going with how focused you are on Hyunjae. “You’re constantly shooting me down, when all I’ve ever done is look up to you! All I’ve ever done is try to impress you, but you just have to make me feel bad about myself huh?”
Hyunjae’s eyes widen a fraction, his lips parting as he listens to you talk. He’s not walking any longer, but you are. You’re backing toward the stairs leading to the parking lot and he reaches forward to stop you.
“Doll,” he tries to get your attention but you’re on a tangent now.
“Maybe I went too far sometimes, but it’s only because you’re my brother’s best friend and I wanted you to notice me!”
“Doll,” Hyunjae tries again and takes a step forward. You’re getting closer to the first step, just inches from backing off the edge.
“But you’re right. Little old Lee Y/N can’t possibly be worth helping, she’s too dumb for you isn’t she? She isn’t enough for you to not—”
“Y/N!” Hyunjae lurches forward when your foot slips from under you. For a moment you flail in the air, arms waving while you attempt to get your balance. Your brother’s best friend grabs one of your arms, yanking you toward him and pressing you tightly to his chest. Your body spun, and you found yourself pressed against the railing, your face squished against the tall man who had his arms wrapped fully around you.
You can feel your heart pounding, and you can feel his own, It’s rapid against your cheek, slamming against his ribs. He’s warm. His body is warm, and your hands tighten around his jacket. Call it desperation, but you know this is the only time Hyunjae would ever touch you and you wanted to make the most of it while it lasted.
“Are you dumb?” Hyunjae pulls you away from you, holding you an arms-length away while he scans you over. “Why the fuck would you walk backward near a staircase?” He looks angry, and you duck your head into your chest.
“I’m sorry,” you mutter, “I know it was stupid but I just—”
“What if you had gotten hurt, doll?” He interrupts, his grip on your shoulders tightening. “What then, huh? I’d never be able to forgive myself.”
“Didn’t realize you cared that much about me,” you try to joke. His frown only deepens, and you begin to shrink in on yourself.
“Of course I care about you!” Your heart begins to pound again. “You’re my best friend’s little sister, why wouldn’t I care about you?” And then it sinks. You just got best-friend’s-little-sister-zoned.
You wonder if he ignored everything you’d said before the fall. Maybe he did. Maybe it’s for the best that he did. Save yourself the rejection, move on with your life. Easy enough.
“I dunno,” you shrug, “figured you hated me enough to let me fall.” Hyunjae scoffs and grabs you by the arm to start dragging you back to the car.
“Idiot.”
~
“So what you’re telling me,” Haknyeon sits across from you, his chemistry textbook open but going ignored as he listens to you talk about what happened with Hyunjae. Since the staircase…incident he hasn’t spoken to you, and you really needed to pass chemistry so you enlisted your friend to help. “He calls you doll, acts like he hates you, then you confess to him and fall down the stairs, he saves you in the most romantic way, then brother’s-best-friend-zones you?”
“Yeah, pretty much,” You dig your pencil into your lip, listening to it click while you read through one of the practice problems that Haknyeon gave you. “And since then he hasn’t spoken to me.”
“What a dick. You’re doing that one wrong, by the way.” He slides his chair across the library’s old carpet to sit next to you. “Finding the delta-H of a reaction is products minus reactants, not the other way around.” His shoulder is brushing against yours while he explains and writes down how to do the problem correctly.
One of the doors to the library opens and you glance up, almost immediately locking eyes with Hyunjae. Your stomach sinks when he narrows his eyes at Haknyeon.
“Oh shit,” you mutter, dropping your gaze again.
“Please don’t tell me that Lee Hyunjae just walked into the library and currently looks like he wants my head on a spike.” Your friend is now frozen, speaking quietly out of the corner of his mouth.
“I will not confirm nor deny any of what you just said.”
“If that man kills me, I will kill you.” Haknyeon hisses, and you just smile at him. Hyunjae is sitting at a table nearby, and you feel that familiar sinking feeling in your chest when he looks at you again.
“He’s not gonna kill you. Laugh as if I said something funny.” You jab him in the side and he starts cackling loudly, gathering the attention of several other students around you. “Not that loud, genius!” He quiets his laughter, and you can see the flush rising on his cheeks. “God you’re dumb.”
“What am I supposed to do? The hottest man I’ve ever seen looks like he’ll snap me in half if I touch you! I’m terrified!” He grabs you by the shoulder, and you hear his chair scrape against the ground. “Oh god he’s gonna kill me and it’s your fault, you bitch.”
“Y/N,” Hyunjae’s hand comes to rest on your shoulder, and he bends down to the opposite ear so you can hear him better. Your body goes rigid, and you feel his breath brushing against the side of your neck. “A word, please?” You turn your head, leaning back so you aren’t so close to him. He’s staring at you, a mix of emotions swimming in his eyes.
“Uh,” you glance at your friend, but he’s already shoving his face back into his textbook. “Yeah, sure. Hak, I’ll be—”
“Yup, go ahead, have fun.” Your friend spits out and then Hyunjae is pulling you up and walking you toward a dark corner of the library.
“Is this where you kill me?” You joke, but he doesn’t laugh. He’s facing away from you, hands shoved into the pockets of a loose jacket. “Damn, killjoy much?”
“You sure move on fast, huh?” You reel back and he turns to face you completely, a small smile practically stapled to his lips. “With tutoring, I mean. You were able to replace me just fine.”
“Oh, uh,” you blink, “yeah I guess. Hak is a great…teacher? Jaehyun are you okay?” His jaw tenses before he responds again, taking a few steps toward you until he’s just inches from you, and you’re pressed against a bookshelf.
“You know you’re the only person who calls me Jaehyun? Not even my own parents call me that.” His head is tilted, his eyes half-lidded while he looks at you. “Why is that?”
“I, um,” your brain is faltering, overwhelmed by him. The way he looms over you, the way his fingers dance across your waist, the way he’s looking at you like you’re his last meal. “I don’t— spite, maybe? Jae, you’re getting really…really close.”
“Does that bother you, doll?” He asks, he’s only a few inches away, and you’re getting the urge to lean up and press your lips against his.
“N-nope. Not at all. In fact,” Your hands are wrapped around his jacket, holding him so he can’t step away from you, “this is great.” He smiles, and you don’t see joy in it. You see mischief and lust.
“Really?”
“Mhm.” One of his hands slides up to grip your chin between his thumb and pointer finger.
“And what if,” his voice is just a whisper, his breath fanning your cheek when he tilts your head to the side. “I did this?”
His lips are warm against your skin. Warm, and soft, and your breath is hitching in your throat andd you know he can feel it. Hyunjae kisses your neck right below your ear, his teeth just scraping against the tender skin and his lips sucking gently. Your eyes are fluttering, your body leaning closer to his. His hand releases your jaw, finding its way back to your waist while your own hands slide up to tangle in his hair.
He slides his lips down, trailing them across your neck and sucking little pink marks into the skin.
“Should—” you stumble over your sentence when Hyunjae pulls your shirt to the side, placing kisses to your collarbone. “Should we b-be doing this?” He hums, and the vibrations against your skin have you gasping.
“What do you mean, doll?” He pulls away, leaning back up to look you in the eye. His eyes are halflidded and dark, filled with the lust you had seen in his smile. Your jaw drops open a bit, your hands sliding back down to his shoulders when he leans toward you again.
“I just— I mean— what would Sangyeon think?” Hyunjae rolls his eyes. “I’m seri—” He’s kissing you before you can finish that sentence. It’s a rough, searing kiss and the suddenness has you gasping. With your mouth now open, Hyunjae is able to slip his tongue into your mouth. It dances along your own, tracing every inch of the wet cavern of your mouth. Your lips are slightly chapped against his, and you wonder if he notices. You wonder if he cares, but the way he groans against your mouth tells you he doesn’t. That he cares only about the way your lips mold against his, the way your tongue dances against his own, and the way your body seems to fit perfectly to his.
“Who—” his lips press against yours as he speaks, “cares— what— he— thinks?”
Hyunjae presses further against you, pressing you into the bookshelf, and you can feel the kiss becoming sloppy. You can feel the spit beginning to slide down your chin, but when you try to wipe it away your brother’s best friend pins your arm above your head. You squeak into his mouth, feeling him smile against you.
He pulls back just slightly, catching your lower lip between his teeth and watching your eyes flutter, listening to the whine that escapes you.
Hyunjae says something to you, something you don’t catch, and then he squeezes your hip.
“Sorry. What did you say?” He smiles, and this time you know he’s amused. There’s a little twinkle in his eye, and you find yourself smiling along with him.
“I said,” he drawls, “that we should get out of here.”
“Oh…” you hum. “Yeah, no, yeah we should.” He tilts your head up again, his eyes narrowing.
“Are you okay, doll?”
“Yeah, yeah I’m fine.” You reassure him, “Just…a little shocked, I guess?”
“Shocked,” he echoes, tilting his head to the side. “Shocked about what, doll?” You shrug, your cheeks starting to burn from the way he stares at you.
“You’re just…you’re a really good kisser.” You’re mumbling, but you know by the way his smile grows that he heard you.
“What was that?” He coos, turning his head so he can “hear you better”. You scoff. “I didn’t quite catch what you said. I’m a really good what?”
“I said you’re a dick,” you snap and push him away from you, your cheeks now blazing. He trails after you, practically giggling at the reaction he pulled out of you. Haknyeon is still at the table when you come into view and you see his eyes go wide when he sees you.
“What…happened to you?” You grab your jacket and bag, shaking your head.
“I’ll tell you tomorrow, Hak.” You feel Hyunjae’s hand on the small of your back, urging you along and you watch your best friend’s eyes bug out of his head.
“He— you— are you two—”
“She said she’ll tell you tomorrow, Hak.” Hyunjae says sharply, now firmly pushing you along. “Let’s go, doll.”
~
You’re in his car, straddling his waist in the backseat. Your lips are pressed against his in a rough kiss, much sloppier than in the library. It’s a mess of tongue and teeth and spit and his skin is so warm against yours. Your hands are underneath his shirt, but his are under your own shirt. You can feel goosebumps rising on your skin where his hands trace. Your waist, your stomach, your back, underneath your breasts. He’s so gentle with you. You, on the other hand, are rough. Your hands are digging into the skin of his abdomen, sliding across his abs and up to his chest. He hisses when your nails dig into him, undoubtedly leaving little crescents into his golden skin.
You pull away only briefly, a string of spit connected between the two of you. He’s staring at you with awestruck eyes, staring at the marks he left on your skin, at the knots he made in your hair, at the stretched collar of your shirt from where he pulled on it.
“What happened to what Sangyeon would think?” Hyunjae’s hand slip to cup your ass over your jeans.
“I’m not the one that’s gonna have to tell him that his best friend fucked his little sister in the backseat of his car in the library parking lot.” You tug your shirt over your head, tossing it to the front seat. To be fair, Hyunjae moved the car into the darkest corner of the lot, but his windows weren’t tinted and if security came around to check what was up, you’d both be fucked (in more ways than one). “Besides, should you really be worrying about that right now?”
Hyunjae lowers his mouth to your chest, placing wet, sloppy kisses to the soft skin while you unhook your bra and let it slide off your arms.
“You’re really gonna make me do it? All on my own?” He gazes up at you and you can only smile at him.
“If you want me to suck your dick, yeah. You will.” His grip on your waist tightens and his eyes go wide. You lift his head, connecting your lips again as you begin to roll your hips against his. He hisses out, letting his head fall back at the sudden pressure against his growing erection. You let your eyes drift closed, enjoying the friction, enjoying the pleasure each roll of your hips sends up your spine until you decide it isn’t enough. Until the quiet, gasping breaths that escape the boy under you aren’t enough. Until you need more.
You force yourself off of him, pushing yourself as far back as you can in the cramped backseat of his car, the little waves of pleasure dissipating as you undo the button of your pants and begin to tug them down. Hyunjae watches you, eyes hazy and chest heaving under his shirt. You pause in your motions and stare at him with a cocked eyebrow.
“What?” He exhales heavily and you scoff, kicking his leg. He hisses, lifting his head and glaring at you.
“You really think I’m gonna be the only one undressing? Take your shit off, Lee Jaehyun.” He sits up, leaning toward you. Challenging you.
“Why would I do that, doll?” He coos. “I quite enjoy the little show you’re putting on for me.” You can hear the little tremor in his voice, can see his cock straining against his jeans. You love the act he puts on, the way he wants you to think he’s in charge, so you play along.
You widen your eyes, playing the role of a desperate little girl. He may be older, but you’re smarter. You’ve known him long enough to get an idea of what he likes, just based on what you’ve accidentally overheard from his conversations with your older brother.
“Jae,” you practically purr, leaning forward and letting him see the way you’re squeezing your breasts together with your arms. He watches you lace your hands together, tenses when you place them on his knees and bring yourself forward until your mouth is right next to his ear. His breathing hitches when your breasts brush against his chest. “Can you please take your clothes off, baby?” You press a gentle kiss to his jaw. “I promise I’ll be good.”
He doesn’t respond, but you can hear him shuffling, hear the zipper of his pants and feel him shoving the garment down his legs as fast as he can. His shirt follows after, and you lean back with a pretty little smile on your lips as you slowly pull your jeans down. Hyunjae watches you carefully, practically drooling as more and more of your skin is exposed to him. More for him to touch, to feel, to play with.
When the last bit of your legs is exposed and your jeans are thrown to the side, he tugs you onto his lap again. You both hiss when his fully erect cock presses against your core, when the slick fabric of your underwear brushes against him and leaves a small damp spot on his boxers. Your hand rises to the back of his neck, nails scratching gently as you begin to roll your hips again.
You aren’t slow this time, you aren’t gentle with him. You grind against him as if you’re already riding his cock. You roll your hips in gentle circles, pressing down hard with each drag of your hips. This is the pleasure you were searching for. This is soothing the ache that had been building and building since the night at the staircase.
You listen to the pitiful whines that leave Hyunjae’s mouth, listen to the gasps, and the pleas. You feel the way he lifts his hips to meet yours, thrusting harder and harder with each moan of his name that leaves your mouth.
“Please what, baby?” You lower your head to his neck, sucking harsh purple marks into his skin and running your tongue over each one to sooth the burn you know is there. “Hmm? What do you need from your doll?”
“You pro-promised,” he pleaded, squeezing at your hips and trying desperately to get you to stop. You can feel his dick twitching underneath you, and your hips only move faster and harder against him. You can see the tears welling up in his eyes.
“What did I promise, Jae?” You ask. “Tell me.”
“You prom— promised you’d— that you’d suck me off.” You kiss your teeth, slowing your hips. Your own body is screaming at you, begging you for the release you’d just ripped away from both of you. You, unlike Hyunjae, are good at hiding how desperate you really are to have him inside of you. He’s still thrusting into you, whining at the loss of pleasure.
“I did, didn’t I?” You run the back of your hand down his cheek and watch him lean into your touch. “I can’t let my baby suffer now, hmm? Not after he asked so nicely.”
Hyunjae watches in awe as you slide to the ground in front of him, tugging his boxers down with you. He watches as you brush your hand over his leaking cock, running your thumb over the slit and digging in. He whines loudly, jerking his hips into your touch.
You pull your hand away just briefly to spit into your palm, using that and the pearly liquid leaking from his tip to help run your hand up and down on his length, squeezing gently when you get closer to his tip.
When your lips finally wrap around him, a shudder runs down Hyunjae’s body, his back arching and his head falling back. There’s a brief moment between when you first put your mouth on him to when you begin to suck, one where you just watch the older boy twitch and shudder under your touch.
You don’t linger too long, shifting and rising a bit on your knees so you can take more of him down your throat. Your hands grip at his thighs, squeezing tightly when he hits the back of your throat and you have to hold yourself back from gagging. You pull yourself back up, suckling at his tip before bringing yourself back down onto him, taking a bit more of him into your mouth. You repeat these actions until you’re able to take all of him into your mouth.
From there, when you take him down your throat you moan around him, letting the vibrations hit him until his hips jerk up and he’s sent impossibly farther down your throat before pulling yourself back up and digging your tongue into his slit and drinking in the precum that leaks from his cock. He’s a whining, blubbering mess, begging you to go faster. To make him cum. To do anything except tease him, but you don’t listen. You take your time, occasionally pulling off his dick entirely just to watch him suffer.
“‘M close again,” he chokes out, barely heard above the sloppy noises of you choking on his cock time and time again. His eyes, up until this point, have been squeezed shut. He’s afraid that if he looks at you, he’ll bust right then and there. “Fuck, doll, please.”
He makes the fatal mistake of opening his eyes, making direct eye contact with you. His breath hitches in his throat again, his chest tightening. You look so messy, drool running down your chin and onto his balls. Your make up is running down your cheeks, your hands squeezing so tightly at his thighs.
It just takes you sending him into the back of your throat one more time for him to regain control of himself, gripping your hair and sitting up a bit. Your eyes go wide when he thrusts into your mouth the first time. He hears you gag, but he’s just so close. He’s so close, and he can’t help how his hips move faster and faster, each brush of his tip against the back of your throat sending him spiraling just a bit more out of control.
“You thought I’d just let you take control?” he hisses, tugging your face towards his hips when you try to pull away. He can hear your muffled sobs, hear you gagging on him. “Let you run this show? Pretty girl, you have no idea what you just got yourself in—to—” He stutters his last word, his eyes rolling into the back of his head while he empties his load into your throat. He hears you choke and pulls back, letting the last ropes of cum paint your cheeks and your chin while more spills out the side of your mouth.
Hyunjae gasps for breath, watching you pull yourself back onto the seat with your back pressed against the door. He watches you run your fingers through the mess on the lower half of your face, bringing it to your lips. You whine at the taste of him, and he feels his cock twitching back to life already.
Then he notices the lack of underwear on your body. Sometime between you taking control, and him forcing it back you stripped yourself of the last bit of clothing on your body. He turns toward you, wrapping a hand around each of your legs to spread you open. Your eyes are wide again, and you try to protest when he lowers himself to be face-to-face with your sopping wet cunt.
“Such a pretty doll,” he murmurs, bringing a finger to your slit and collecting some of your juices. Your body twitches, trying to pull away from him but he just pulls you closer. “So cute, still trying to be in control of something.”
He runs his tongue all the way up the length of your pussy, stopping to suck on your clit before bringing his tongue back down and repeating that again and again and again. You writhe underneath him, moaning loudly when he digs his tongue into you, practically fucking you with it before he’s slipping two fingers inside of you. You knew it would sting with just one of his fingers, but the burn of two fingers pushing inside of you and immediately beginning to pump in and out of you at a rapid pace has you crying out and curling away from him. He just holds you closer, his fingers scissoring in and out and his mouth sucking relentlessly and the knot inside of you is growing so tight, your body curling and your hands gripping his hair tightly.
Then your body goes slack, your vision blurring and your ears ringing as you release all over the bottom half of his face. He doesn’t relent, doesn’t stop drinking up your release until you’re kicking your legs and shoving his body away from you.
You both gasp for breath, trying to recover. Your body is tingling with your release and you can see Hyunjae leaning against the door opposite you, running his hand up and down his length while he watches you, waiting for his cock to become erect again so he can fuck you.
“So,” his voice is rough, “now that we’re somewhat even, I vote that we both tell Sangyeon that I fucked his little sister in the backseat of my car.” You roll your eyes.
“I just gave you the best suck of your life, and you think I’m gonna tell my big brother that his best friend fucked me? His best friend that’s two years older than me?”
“You’re 21,” Hyunjae frowns, “two years isn’t that bad. If you were 14 and I was 16, then it would be weird, but that’s not the case. We’re both legal adults in college.” His hand slows on his cock, but he keeps his fingers wrapped around the tip. You run your tongue over your lip.
“Jaehyun, I thought you hated me. What changed?” He shrugged.
“Simple. I never hated you. Sure for a while you were just my best friend’s annoying sister, but like…I dunno. I never really hated you, I just didn’t know how else to interact with you. What about you? I thought you hated being around me.”
“Yeah because I wanted to make out with you half the time you were around,” you roll your eyes and let your head rest against the steamed window. Hyunjae sputters out a laugh, throwing his head back and yelping when it slams against the glass. You gasp and jump forward, crawling over his lap to cradle his head.
“Shit, Jae, are you alright?” You run your fingers through his hair, feeling for where his hit his head. He lets his forehead rest against your collarbone, still laughing. “Why would you throw your head back like that?”
“You sure have a funny way of showing that you like me, you know that, doll?” His lips press gently into your skin and you flick the side of his head. He hisses under his breath and pinches your hip.
“You worry me sometimes, Lee Jaehyun.” He hums and brings his hands to your hips. “You gonna fuck me now?” He kisses his teeth and pushes you off his lap until you’re on the leather seats again.
“Hands and knees, doll,” he instructs and you grin.
“Ooh, doggy style. Didn’t think you liked that kind of thing.” You roll onto your hands and knees, lowering the front half of your torso until you’re able to lay your head on your hands and (sort of) gaze back at Hyunjae. You watch him pull a foil packet out of the center console and click your tongue. “Only use one if you want to. I’m clean and on birth control. As long as you’re clean and fine with it, you don’t have to.” You watch the man behind you shudder again.
“God, Sangyeon really is gonna fuckin’ kill me, doll.”
“Problem for tomorrow, really.” You suck in a sharp breath when you feel his tip pressing into your entrance. A quite whine escapes you at the stretch, and Hyunjae rubs your sides to sooth you while he continues to slowly press himself inside of you.
“Almost there, baby.” He assures you. “Just a bit over halfway.”
“Are you shitting me?” you whine. “Why the fuck are you so big?”
“Good genetics, doll.” You feel his hips against your ass and your body relaxes slightly. “Tell me when, okay?”
“Just fucking go already,” you hiss, fighting through the stretch. “God, just fuck me Hyunjae, please.” Your hips roll back against his and he exhales shakily.
“You’re gonna be the death of me.”
“It’s either me or my brother, pick one baby.”
Your teeth dig into your lip when Hyunjae gives an experimental, shallow thrust into you. He pulls out a few more inches and thrusts into you again. When he pulls himself out all the way to the tip, he inhales sharply before plunging into you. Your body jerks forward at the force of it, a moan escaping you, and then he’s plowing into you at full force.
Hyunjae drives his hips into you hard and fast, your body jerking forward so much that you have to grab onto the door to stop yourself from hitting it. The moans you let out become loud cries and screams of his name and you know that if there’s anyone left in the parking lot, they’ll know exactly what’s happening. You can only pray that they know better than to approach the window, pray that they can’t see the way you beg for Hyunjae to move faster, to go harder if that were possible.
“Such a good, pretty girl for me,” Hyunjae tangles a hand in your hair, yanking you back into his chest. The new angle has his cock driving into that spongey spot inside of you time and time again. “So pretty like this, filled with me. But what would Sangyeon think, hm? What will he think of his pretty little sister getting fucked senseless by his best friend, someone he trusted to look after her while she studies?”
“F-fuck, Hyunjae, please!” You beg, clawing at his hands and his hips and the back of his neck. “Fuck, harder, baby, harder!’
“You want me to go harder baby?” Hyunjae coos, sliding one of his hands down to your clit. “Want your brother’s best friend to fuck you until you can’t breathe? Until you’re begging me to stop?”
“Yes,” you cry out, “please please please, Hyunjae!” He groans, loud and raspy in your ear and you can feel your abdomen starting to tighten okay. “Oh god, I’m so close baby please! So close, so close!”
“I know baby,” he grunts, “fuck, you’re so fucking tight around me, doll.”
His fingers are rubbing harsh circles around your sensitive clit, the callouses of his hands providing that delicious friction to drive you straight over the edge screaming his name and squeezing tightly around his cock like a vice until he can only grind his hips into you, and then he’s groaning and warm ropes of cum are filling you and spilling out around his cock.
It takes the two of you a few minutes to recover before he’s pulling tissues and wipes out of his glove compartment and gently wiping away any traces of his release. When he gets to your face, he can only smile at the dazed look in your eyes.
“So, I take it I’m telling your brother?”
“You can bet your ass you are.” He hums and places a featherlight kiss to your lips.
“You called me Hyunjae for the first time.” You hum.
“Don’t get used to it, Lee Jaehyun. It was heat of the moment.” He laughs, tugging his boxers and jeans back onto his body before helping you with your bra and underwear.
“I meant it, you know.” He says when he’s got you situated in the front seat of the car. You look at him with tired eyes, enjoying the heat that comes with his car being on. Your seat is reclined so you can rest on your way home, and one of your hands is wrapped in Hyunjae’s. “When I told you that I never hated you. And if you’d let me, I want to take you out on a date after finals.”
The thought brings a gentle smile onto your face.
“Only if Sangyeon doesn’t kill you first.”
~
It’s two days later when you force Hyunjae to tell him. The marks on your neck, and the scratches on Hyunjae’s haven’t faded in the slightest, and you know Sangyeon has been asking his best friend about them.
You’d been sitting on your bed with your boyfriend when Sangyeon burst into the room, yelling at you about the dishes and stopping when he saw the two of you curled up on your comforter. You could see his mind trying to click everything into place, followed by your brother taking a few steps forward and Hyunjae sliding off your bed to get to your open window.
“LEE JAEHYUN YOU’RE SO FUCKING DEAD!” Your brother screams out the open window while Hyunjae makes a run for his house, one hand thrown into the air.
“WORTH IT!” You hear him yell, and you can’t muffle the laugh you let out before your brother turns on you with nothing but rage in those brown eyes of his.
“Lee Y/N,” he hisses.
“In my defense, it was all him.” You back away from your brother, shuffling to the edge of your room.
“You’re dating my best friend?”
“Maybe? Depends on how you react to either answer.”
“Oh, I’m gonna fucking kill you both.”
“Only if you can catch us!” You bolt out of your room, screaming when you hear him pounding after you.
Maybe telling your brother wasn’t the best idea. But, then again, it was all worth it in the end. Dying young wouldn’t be so bad, at least in your eyes.
if you hold me without hurting me you’ll be the first who ever did//juyeon smut
tags: juyeon smut, sugar daddy/ age gap au (8 years lol!!), you’re 22, seduction, DRINKING!!, corruption kink, Juyeon asking you if it’s okay A LOT, juyeon calling you ‘innocent’, CHOKING, ROMANCE!!
You meet older rich guy Juyeon at a hotel bar, and the rest is history
“I’ve never been with a stranger.”
“How could you be okay with me doing these things? Aren’t you afraid what I’ll do to you? Do you think about my intentions at all? You’re so easy…”
“You can do anything you want,” you say. “Even ruin me.”
“... I couldn’t live with myself, Y/N, please… I… I still think you’re innocent, so I can’t give in to you. But in all honesty, I want you so bad I could just…” His hand clasped against your jaw, as if he were afraid to touch you.
You kissed him on the lips the only way you knew how to kiss a man. “Can we go? To your room?”
w.c.: 3.8k
You adjust the strap of your slip dress on your shoulders, it just kept falling off. Bereft of any foresight, or perhaps rushing, you didn’t bring any coat or jacket, leaving you with a side-boob out; at least the hotel bar was heated, although the lights were dim; like a dark, damp wolf’s lair you’d walked into.
You’re not really a bar type of person, although you guessed you could make an exception for a place as classy as this—jesus, you thought, how’d doyeon even book this hotel for her birthday party? How much must it even cost on a night?
You tell the bartender the number of your room—0602—and asks that he puts the drinks’ into the room’s tab, hoping that by tomorrow morning they won’t pore over the giant receipt and just pay upfront. You were less… affluent than your friends, to be very honest…
The bar was dark, and the lights lit up a dim green and orange around the seats. You order a fun cocktail, a sweet thing that you could drink all night without getting a buzz, and sit down.
You don’t know why you sat so close to someone, when there were empty seats all around the bar… You didn’t feel like switching now, though, what if the man took offense, that you didn’t want to sit next to him?
You started to chew on the kiwi slice the cocktail came with, and the gentleman beside you puts down the notebook he’s writing in, turning to face you, probably because it’d be rude not to greet at all.
Once he turns his face towards you, though, you get a terrible idea. Maybe the cocktail did make you a little braver, more effective than the taste of sharp stinging in your mouth… “Hello,” you whisper, not to disturb the quaint atmosphere in the bar. You had your purse with you, and you toyed with the faux leather just to fight the nervousness. You nodded at the notebook. “Business?” You had an uncle that did his accounting every night after he was done spending, maybe the guy was that kind of man.
But the man shook his head, and you see that he’s lean—when he turns his body towards you—a thin figure, and broad shoulders, and amazing, beautiful, narrow eyes, with a few crinkles around them when he smiles that you know he has to be somewhat older.
“No,” he says curtly, “no business at all.” He sips his drink, and you see that it’s hard liquor, presented in a no-nonsense, almost completely sombre dark orange shade of liquid.
“Oh.” You turn back to the bar, thinking he didn’t want to speak to you. What business did you even have talking to him—you’re literally here for a goofy party, he’s probably relaxing because he’s swamped with so much work.
But he extends a friendly gesture. “It’s my vocabulary book… I’m learning Spanish, so.”
“People do that on an app these days…”
He chuckled, and you saw that his voice was already quiet and light without even needing to whisper. “Maybe younger people, yes.”
“You can’t be that old.”
“You just look much younger than me,” he says softly.
“What are you drinking?” you ask, and he tears his eyes away from your lips just to look down the bottom of his glass.
“Bourbon.” His eyes are back on your lips again, tinted deep pink with a lip product, thinking you were going to look pretty for the boy classmates, but here you were with an older man… “I am here on business, though,” he says. “But I’m… well, even I get tired sometimes.”
You nodded.
“Can I ask if you’re even allowed to be drinking?”
You laughed, opening your purse and sliding your uni ID down the bar counter, towards his side of the wooden boundary, presenting him with un-fake-able proof.
“Ah, you’re a student… Second year?” He asks, reverting back to korean, dae-hak yi-hak-nyeon? He stared at the card for a while, slowly saying your name as if he was savoring it. “Twenty two,” he said softly, calculating your age.
“It’s a lucky number,” you put in. He’s eyeing your lips, but you’re eyeing his drink—maybe if you drank something that strong, you’d have more courage?
“I almost think I should take care of you. You look like a lost little girl.”
“Twenty-two,” you reminded him, unable to stop your face from making an adorable pout, which he reaches out and touches, as if trying to get you to smile again.
“Aren’t you too cute?” He pauses to swallow. “Like, dangerously cute? What are you doing at this hotel?”
“My friend had a birthday party, so they booked a room to party in, but… I just felt like… I don’t know… not partying? I didn’t know I’d meet someone like you, though…”
Juyeon smiles slightly. “Does the fact that you met me make you feel better about coming out here?”
You nod. “I mean, you’re older, and rich, probably my friends’ dream… they all want a sugar daddy.” Oh, fuck. “I mean! I’m not like… preying on you or anything, not taking advantage of your kindness... Like I wouldn’t… I’m… good? I’m a good girl.”
“Good girl?” He sips his bourbon until all that’s left was ice, and wordlessly flags the bartender down to give him another glass-full. “It’s funny you think I’m the one being taken advantage of. Ah… I really should control myself.”
“Control yourself from…?” You knew, of course, but you wanted to know if you were actually reading his mind correctly right now.
“First, from kissing you.”
You pulled back. “I’d taste like a cocktail…”
“If you worry about that, I wouldn’t do it.” But he still leaned in closer towards you.
You close the gap, kissing him, a hand on his jaw almost so tenderly, better than you’d ever handled one of the boys at your college. Then you giggle. “So I learned the taste of bourbon second-hand through a kiss…”
Juyeon looked almost scandalized, pulling away but just barely. “I can’t believe you did that… You weren’t supposed to kiss me, Y/N, you weren’t supposed to want me…” He grabs the base of your chair and pulls it close until your thigh was touching his, you didn’t even know these chairs at wheels…
“You didn’t like it?” you asked, absolutely concerned you might have to go back to your room with your friends and just…
“I liked it…” he looked pained. “Too much. I can’t resist the way you look at me and the thought of being with you…”
Shyly but seductively, you put a finger on your pink lips, the spot he couldn’t stop staring at. “You’re already thinking of it? Are you thinking of what I’d look like… under you?”
“Are you trying to seduce me now?” You think you feel what that book he was writing in must have felt, to be touched so tenderly and with so much care… He looked enraged, pained, everything… He looked absolutely seduced. “You think I don’t already imagine those things?”
“Bartender?” you asked, raising your hand, but he covers it from being raised.
“Are you trying to drink more?”
“I want to know what kind of buzz you have…”
“You don’t know how to drink. You’re so cute.” He pulls you closer. He’s the cleanest man you’ve ever even met or touched, he smells like expensive cologne… “I really can’t stop myself.” He touched your shoulder, gradually going up to the neck. “I might kiss you again. I don’t know what’s come over me…”
“Am I that sexy right now?” you joked, almost classlessly.
“I could just take you up to my room,” Juyeon whispers. “Would you still want to be a good girl?”
Your dress’s strap falls down the shoulder again, and you fix it, giggling. “Ah, my dress is already coming off!”
He almost growls. “Please… if I go any further with this I’m… I don’t know if this is the correct or right thing to do to you. Don’t do this. Please, you’re innocent.”
“I’m not.” You kiss his neck, even biting the skin, although he doesn’t react. “I’m here for you to devour.”
“You’re just a college girl… I’m an adult. You’re not supposed to want this, please…”
“Why do you think 22 is young?” You giggled. “I can drink, drive, buy condoms…”
“I just… don’t want to be a bad guy…” He pulls away. “We need to stop.”
“Oh…” you sighed. “Can I still go to your room for tonight? My friends are probably high, and I don’t wanna go back to my room.”
“I don’t think you understand, Y/N,” Juyeon says slowly, as if every word were a red-hot warning, “if you come to my room, I’m going to do things. You need to be prepared for this…”
You hesitated. “I’ve never been with a stranger.”
“How could you be okay with me doing these things? Aren’t you afraid what I’ll do to you? Do you think about my intentions at all? You’re so easy…”
“You can do anything you want,” you say. “Even ruin me.”
“... I couldn’t live with myself, Y/N, please… I… I still think you’re innocent, so I can’t give in to you. But in all honesty, I want you so bad I could just…” His hand clasped against your jaw, as if he were afraid to touch you.
You kissed him on the lips the only way you knew how to kiss a man. “Can we go? To your room?”
“You’re going to make me do something I shouldn’t. Do you know what the right thing is here? I… you’re killing me. I can’t stop wanting you.”
You kissed him, and swiftly pulled him down to the elevators, lips attached as you waited for the doors to open. Breathless, you glanced at the buttons… “which floor?”
“12th.” He leans in and pressed you against the wall, whispering: “you’re making me want to do something very bad, little girl.” Your lips don’t touch, you just glance at him through the small distance, teasing him. The elevator stops.
You glanced around. “Woah, wait… aren’t there the suite rooms?”
“Yeah, my room’s right beside here.” You followed him in, and slowly got shell-shocked by the sheer massiveness of the room… Juyeon is loaded. Or his company is loaded. But… oh god. “You’re… this rich…”
“Enough about my room… Look at you.” He touched your dress like he’s trying to control the impulse to rip it.
Your strap fell down your shoulder again, and you giggle. “Should I leave the rest to your imagination?”
He grips your hips, pulling the dress up slightly. “You’re such a tease… this is so wrong. You’re so young.” But he pulls the strap down until both were hanging off your shoulder. “How can this be okay?”
He’d moveed on from your lips, now your chest was his new object, looking hungrily at you. “You just… you seem so innocent…” He touched your thigh, his hand going up between the legs, but stopping before he pushes anything hot and wet. “Fuck. I can’t go through with this and still have my honor… you don’t know what you’re doing and you don’t know what will happen to you if we go any further… Do you really want to be used up for your body? I can’t go through with this…”
Seeing his reluctance, you pulled back, and grab his broad shoulders, as if controlling him, and sit him on the luxurious hotel couch. “Okay, let’s take it slow. Let’s try to take our minds off what we’re going to do…”
“Fine…” he still looked weak, as if he was fighting everything in him from ripping your clothes off. “What now?”
You straddled him now, getting on top of him “Talk to me.”
His hands gripped the sofa at both sides just so he wouldn't do something wrong with your body. “Y/n… what are you doing right now? Aren’t you afraid? You’re making me weak.”
“Just try to talk, okay?” Your fingers unbuttoned his shirt slowly, and you teased him, lingering over his collarbone and ribs. “Tell me about your work? What were you thinking when you met me? Anything…” You started to kiss his ear.
He sighs in surrender, hands groping you now. “I really can’t think straight right now… You look so soft…” He kissed your neck now, and you could feel his teeth under all that softness.
“Yeah? you can’t think? What’s on your mind?”
“Everything… everything about you,” he admitted. “This must feel wrong, right? Showing your body to a man almost a decade older?” He took off his shirt, draping it over the couch.
“Should I stay on top of you like this?” You could feel his cock hard and intruding right under your hip.
“Whatever you like… What do you want to do to me?”
“I want you to pin me down onto the bed… and…”
“What if I made it hurt?” He was carrying you back onto the bed, just to pin you down.
“Do it.”
“Really?” His voice is more breath than words.
Before you nod to affirm, his belt is off and thrown across the room, and his tight suit-pants are down, and he looks down from you, almost godlike, before attaching himself to you, ever single way: teeth in neck, tongue on skin, his hard length directed into your warmth by a stray, careful hand.
He doesn’t talk, almost like he’s basking in the shame. Just the rocking of his hips against yours. There’s panting, and even whimpering from him, like he’s pathetic and you control what he gets to receive, but it’s him that’s inside of you, desperate and leaking. “Please… ah…”
“You’re not going to have any regrets about this, alright? I promise,” he says.
“Of course not… I trust you…”
“You do?” He pants again, and he doesn’t know what to do with his hands so he holds yours. “I’ve been having a fantasy of making a good girl like you turn into a bad girl, okay?”
“How do you do that?”
“I make her… drool. And beg. And get as thirsty as she can for my cock.”
You simply moan in answer, Juyeon hot and hard against you. How warm you were was driving him insane, made him weak in the core, but he wouldn’t say that out loud… Just through breaths and body language and clandestine cogitation.
“Poor darling,” he panted. “I can’t… I can’t be as rough as I want to, or you’ll regret this. You’ll be crying.”
When you’re both around to come, you get desperate, and the rocking isn’t doing it anymore. Juyeon is the first to get rough, slamming himself into you with a pace unmatched from him before… Suddenly, he decides he couldn’t leave his hands idle anymore, bringing them to your neck and choking you. It feels good, as you leave the rest of your strength in your legs, which wrap around his hips until you come.
You’re sniffling as you recover.
“Y/n, are you crying?” He held you quietly. “I’m sorry…”
“It’s just that it felt so, so good,” you say with a smile. “I get… I don’t know, teary, when it’s that good. You were good. You were kind.”
“Which part was I good to you…” he groaned. “I can’t believe you still want me.”
“Well…” you reached over and touched his hands, which were about three sizes bigger than yours. “Maybe you are too big for me… But you’re still a perfect fit.”
He opened his arms. “Sleep? I promise in the morning we can sort it out…”
You switched the lights off, crawling into bed. “Ah… messy…”
“‘S okay,” he hummed.
.
His cat-like eyes were watching you as you woke up, and you immediately touch him, wrapping yourself around his shoulders. “Good morning.”
“Morning… I can’t believe you’re not mad at me.”
“Why would I be mad at you?”
“Because…” he brushed away your hair from your neck, revealing a hand mark, red but not purplish like a bruise.You couldn’t see it, but seeing the regret in his eyes was enough. “... because of this.”
You kiss him in reply to tell him you weren’t mad, but he quickly pulls away.
“Do you work part time?”
“Yeah, but on nights.”
He chuckled. “Classic night owl… It’s Saturday, and my client wants to meet in the afternoon. I have something planned for us, if you wouldn’t object?”
You nod slowly. “... What…?”
“You’ll see.” Blithely, he covered your naked body with more blanket, and fished out a giant fluffy bathrobe from the shelves for you to wear.
You giggled. “Don’t you want to… continue, if your plans aren’t taking place any time soon?”
“Don’t. Be. Naughty.” He chided slowly as he typed away an email in his phone. “They’ll be here soon.”
“They?!” You’re lucky you dressed in time, because the door bell rang, and as Juyeon told them to come in, staff, dressed in hotel uniform-blank-and-white suits, brought in a whole rack of clothes, almost too many, jammed in a small pole on expensive ivory hangers. “Juyeon,” you murmur quietly, “what is this?”
“Shush.” With a kiss on your lips, he lifted you up to your feet. “I thought I’d buy you back what I ripped from you last night,” he says, referring to your panties… and the broken zipper of your slip dress. Which, honestly, seeing all these new dresses, was a horrible fit from you, plus the strap kept falling off, although that did help you seduce someone.
Juyeon finished his coffee sporadically glancing at you with the staff, who fitted you in for the clothes right away, everything you pointed at and wanted to try. Although everything was heavenly nice, you just picked out two outfits in the end: a dress, and a matching skirt and blouse, thanking the staff who folded it for you.
“Is that all?” Juyeon frowned. “You didn’t like the others?”
“No, I liked it! I just… it’s too much.”
“If you liked it, you can have the entire collection.”
“NO!” you gasped, too overwhelmed to even smile. “I don’t want to take advantage of your kindness, and… I have no place wearing things that expensive.”
“Of course you have a place doing that,” Juyeon chided absentmindedly. “But if these dresses weren’t to your liking, I’ll just get you more from the show.”
“... Show?” you started slowly.
“That’s what I’m here for—I have to make an appearance. For the fall/winter season…” He kissed your temple, then headed off to get dressed in his suit. “Don’t worry about it too much.”
You glanced over at the bedside table, where he had laid out two watches that he chose not to wear for the day, turning them over in your hands.
They’re expensive. Heavy. Crystal-studded.
What kind of guy did you just sleep with?
.
After excusing yourself but getting his number (to all three of his phones, even, and he told you to contact his assistant if you wanted), you headed back to the hotel room with your friends, where they were all hungover or still zonked out.
You had last night’s dress folded in a bag, and was wearing Chanel, which your friends noticed immediately, Doyeon coming over to you asking what the hell happened…
You’d never been asked ‘what happened’ without it being bad.
“I think I met a sugar daddy,” you say.
“Here?!”
“He has three Rolexes and he bought me an entire rack of clothes.”
.
You’d meant to call Juyeon after your part time shift, but after you finished, you fished around your bag for the contact numbers and emails he gave you, when you found the paper with the ink bled through from the mineral water you had that spilled, that simply couldn’t be salvaged. All that’s left was his work email, which you, assuredly, would never be able to contact without being awkward…
Imagine being his assistant, going through work emails, and seeing one with the subject ‘RE: so about that night…’ no way, she’d just delete your message.
You regretted not asking him when he was leaving the hotel, hoping he’d at least remembered your existence and left something for you to find him by…
When you went back to the hotel—and the security almost didn’t let you in, being that you had no business—his room had been cleared out and he was already on a plane. You just slowly dejectedly walked back to the lobby emptyhanded, missing the way his giant hand felt intertwined with yours.
“Did he leave any messages for me?” you asked slowly.
“Depends, what is your name?”
You gingerly slowly gave out your name, and the receptionist shook her head. You sighed. Well… it’s definitely not that kind of story, where you land a prince charming… it was just one night. You should be happy, right?
.
It’s two months after, that your friends make you contact him. They kept talking about how real sugar daddies should never be let go, when really, you didn’t care that he bought you chanel and all those other brands you couldn’t even fit in your mouth to speak… you’d have fallen for him even if he was faking the whole wealth thing…
Which he wasn’t, as you found out after googling his company and seeing the name of his assistant.
You typed in a long email explaining it to his assistant, hoping not everyone had access to this email, making it easy to find in his inbox.
Would he check it personally? You sighed.
Doyeon wouldn't stop talking about it, ever since you met Juyeon. Always "why do YOU get to meet a sugar daddy? At MY party?" Although you thought maybe your romance dreams were well and over once the contact card bled through your bag.
The truth was, you missed juyeon… a lot… endlessly, and the thought that he was just a one-time-brush-past scared you.
You fell asleep for a nap, and when you woke up, you had a new email. It was dark, and your designer clothes hung drying out after a wash. You rub your eyes and check it in a hurry—it’s 2 a.m. in korea, although who knows where he could be traveling to?
But what you found wasn’t automated, or from his assistant, and the words were his.
Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for your message?
pairing : sunwoo x reader genre : fluff, suggestive warnings : kissing, a lot of kissing and suggestive words count : 827
you knew it was a bad idea to be at home with sunwoo AND all your friends, but they'd all insisted on spending one last evening together before the start of a new school year of hell — and who were you to say no to haknyeon's pleading eyes? that's how your living room turned into a summer camp, the floor strewn with inflatable mattresses and blankets, each with a more ridiculous design than the last. eating your popcorn and watching with a judgmental eye as eric did you-know-what in the corner of your living room, you suddenly felt arms around your waist, making you jump slightly.
not bothering to see who it was, you felt a chin take its place on your shoulder, and a head stick to yours. to no one's surprise, the scent of sunwoo's perfume tickled your nostrils, while your eyes darted between all your friends who seemed absorbed in the film playing on your television. « why are you so clingy? » you whispered, thinking how lucky you were that no one suspected that you were now a couple and no longer just friends, even if your sudden closeness should have tipped them off. sunwoo shook his head negatively, daring to place a kiss on the hollow of your neck when everyone else was looking away, « i miss you, » he muttered against your skin, moving dangerously up your jaw to reach your ear, « i want to kiss you. »
a shiver ran down your spine, as you spied around you to make sure no one had seen or heard what he had just said and done. turning your head towards his, your gaze met the piercing brown color of sunwoo's pupils, the smirk on his pretty lips giving you the strange urge to unscrew his head. but your heart, which was now racing in your chest, had other desires — especially when you had the misfortune to squint at his mouth, which seemed to be screaming at you to kiss him. « we can't, we're not alone. » you replied, your hand mechanically caressing his forearm, paying no attention to anything going on around you. but sunwoo knew how to be persuasive : so he moved a little closer to you so that the tip of his nose caressed yours, before standing up as if nothing had happened, beckoning you to follow him.
what you did. unashamedly.
moving along the almost pitch-black corridor leading to your room and out of sight of others, your body was suddenly drawn against something warm and soft. sunwoo's body pressed against yours, his arms firmly encircling you as if to prevent you from escaping. « hey love, » he whispered against your lips, and you could hear in his words the smile that clung to his mouth, « did you miss me? »
wrapping your arms around his neck, you rose on tiptoe to place a light kiss on his lips before speaking, in a barely audible whisper, « you're here to kiss me, save the nice words for later. » — a scoff leaves his tongue just before he closed the distance between you both completely, capturing your lips in a hot, desperate kiss. sunwoo's hands wandered under your pyjama top, his delicate fingers caressing your warm skin, without a second thought that anyone could have surprised you. he lifted you slightly off the ground, taking you by surprise while taking advantage and slide his tongue against yours, sighing against your lips at the simple sensation of finally being able to kiss you the way he wanted to. sunwoo was an incredible kisser — the best you've ever known, and the only one capable of driving your heart crazy and your stomach full of butterflies.
after long minutes of kissing, reversing roles and finding yourself with your back pressed against the wall behind you, a noise is heard in the hallway entrance, before an expletive forces you to separate your mouths from each other. despite your jerky breathing, your lips fuller and pinker than usual, and your hands nestled in each other's clothes, you turned on the light next to you to discover with horror eric's mocking face. « i knew it ! we knew it ! » he shouted, running back to the living room with a crash, « jacob you owe me $50 ! »
sighing, you looked up at sunwoo, who was smiling with a half-sorry, half-happy smile. hitting his arm, your boyfriend pretended to be in pain and grimaced, « all because of you and your impatience ! » you say, before he cuts you off and kisses you again, pinning you in place. then he pulled away slowly, smiling like an idiot in love, and you'll swear you really want to unscrew his head, « now at least, i can kiss you whenever i want. »
and that's what he did. in front of your friends. unashamedly.
pairing . eric x gn! reader
about . 2k words, fluff (suggestive)
warnings . 16+ cause there is heavy making out at the end, drinking wine, mentions of murder but it's all jokes!!
synopsis . it takes one dinner and a late-night drive for you to fall in love with your fiancé all over again.
note . the inspo for this fic was @sohnric's plot twist make-out scene (and this pic) i hope i did it justice 💗 i wrote this on a whim and am posting this at 1am so please excuse me for this monstrosity 😭 tysm @juyeonszn and @mars101 for cheering me on YUPP
tagging . @stealanity @invuwrld @gfksn (+ bar)
The background noise of the waiters shuffling around fades away as your two glasses clink together. Vivaldi’s Spring is playing in the background, a piece you’ve only heard once in a blue moon at an orchestra concert. Eric seems to have experienced differently, though, judging by the taps of his dress-shoe-covered foot beneath the table and the twinkle in his eyes.
“Cheers,” you whisper, giddy with excitement.
“Cheers, baby,” Eric whispers back, the corners of his mouth lifting in a grin.
The wine in your glass swishes as you take a tentative sip. It’s sweet and fruity, and you’ve already forgotten the name Eric rattled off to the waiter as if expensive drinks were second nature to him. They probably were second nature to the Sohn family, considering the elegance of this fancy restaurant, the outfit he bought that now adorns you, and the sparkling ring that sits on your finger.
You set the glass down next to you, already a little overwhelmed with the elegance of this atmosphere. You knew you married rich, but it never particularly occurred to you just how rich your fiancé is. In fact, you feel a little out of place sitting in a chair that costs half of your monthly paycheck and staring at a menu that you once never would’ve been able to. Despite already being engaged to the love of your life, you’re not sure you’ll ever find a way to fit into the intricate setting that the Sohns have grown up in.
“What’s wrong?” Eric asks, seeing the glimmer in your eyes dissipate with your overthinking.
He reaches across the table to take your hands in his, running his thumb over your ring. He traces the lines of it, following the swirl pattern as if he were seeing it for the first time. As if he didn’t spend hours agonizing over what design to gift you, so sure that you would reject him if it wasn’t up to your liking.
(You would’ve said yes even if he proposed to you with a lollipop.)
“I feel like I don’t belong here,” you admit, your head hanging low as the embarrassment clouds your features.
He intertwines his fingers with yours, lacing them tightly. Eric is all too knowing of the nagging thoughts in your brain, telling you you’re undeserving of the man in front of you and the wealth that comes along with it. However, you’ve hit the jackpot in the fact that Eric is always ready to argue back with the devil on your shoulder, even if it’s three in the morning and you’re delirious from sleep or if you’re a little bit too tipsy and crying in his lap. Eric, for lack of better words, is always there for you. Even now, as he holds your hands and stares into your eyes as if you’re the only person in the universe, he is here for you.
“I’m going to eat that little voice in your head so it goes away,” he responds a moment later with finality, extremely serious.
The statement is so absurd and unexpected that it has you giggling, and you grip Eric’s fingers tighter as you lean forward and can’t find it in you to stop. All your previous tension disappears when you look into Eric’s eyes, filled with mirth and kindness.
“You’re crazy,” you voice through laughter, reaching for the wine glass to calm your jumbling nerves.
Eric just shakes his head, unable to hold back a smile that reflects your current predicament.
“Crazy for you, babe. Now stop worrying your pretty little head and enjoy your food, okay?”
And enjoy the food you do. The three-course meal followed by dessert has you clutching your stomach after, full and bloated from the amount of delicious food you’ve consumed. You can’t even bring yourself to take a couple more bites of the black forest delicacy that sits on your plate, but luckily, you have the universe to thank for the takeout box that now rests in Eric’s left hand.
His other hand holds the car keys, and as he clicks the unlock button, the Orange Corvette lights up from across the parking garage. Its bright color is exactly reminiscent of the man standing next to you, exuberant and dashing. You felt like a little kid the first time he picked you up in his car, extremely impressed with the interior neon lights he showed off to you in the earlier stages of your relationship. Now, as his fiancé, the car is something comfortable to you, having seen it too many times to count by this point.
He helps you into the front seat before getting in beside you, one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting on the back of your headrest as he backs the car out. You’ll never admit this to him, but the view of him looking back and inching the car out is devilishly handsome to you, and you have to fight the warmth that rises to your cheeks.
Once he repositions the vehicle and drives forward, the hand that’s behind you now moves to your thigh. The shiny watch on his wrist glints in the moonlight, and he absentmindedly draws circles on your clothed skin to the beat of the song. It doesn’t help that it’s an R&B track, so every movement of his finger is slow and torturous, and every trace ignites fire against the cloth.
“Eric,” you start, watching as he pulls to a stop before the red light.
“Hm?” he responds, turning his head to face you.
You notice that he’s wearing a singular stud earring on his right ear. You can only pray that you’ll find some strength to survive the rest of this car ride because as soon as it’s over, you won’t let him see the light of day.
“How much longer?” you ask tentatively, like a little kid squirming in their seat.
He rolls his eyes, turning back to focus on the road. It doesn’t help though, because his side profile is just as alluring as his front.
“Couple more minutes, baby.”
True to his word, he exits the main road a few minutes later, driving up a dirt path unfamiliar to you. The road is slightly bumpy, and you’re a little tipsy from the wine so you shift around quite frequently, but Eric’s unwavering, strong grip on your thigh keeps you grounded. The more you stare at his hand, the more sexy you find his hand pressed against the silk you’re wearing.
You’re reconsidering your decision to spend the rest of your life with this ridiculously hot man when he pulls into a forest clearing.
“Are you going to murder me, Eric Sohn?” you tease as he parks the car, swiftly maneuvering the wheel.
You move to step out once he’s done, but he’s faster than you, and he opens the car door before you can even reach for the handle.
“If I wanted to murder you,” he says, holding your arm as you step out, “I would’ve already done so, my love.”
It’s your turn to roll your eyes, but you have little to be annoyed about as you survey your surroundings. The dark forest around you is a contrast to the vividness of the car, but nothing seems brighter than Eric’s smile at the moment and the twinkling stars around you.
Eric leads you to a clearing, his hand pressed against the small of your back. You peer over, fascinated at the realization that you can see the whole city from here. The twinkling lights of the bustling city below you are something of a dream, and as you look towards Eric, you can see the stars reflected in his eyes.
Minutes like these, where you’re not surrounded by extravagance, are when you truly feel your connection with Eric. Raw, unearthed, and simply pure, you feel like you’re stripped of all labels. You both are just insignificant specks in the universe, and he is truly just some guy to you in this moment, but you know wholeheartedly that this very guy is the one you truly love. You would never have it any other way.
The grin on Eric’s face is infectious as you face him with one of your own. You wrap your hands around the back of his neck, clasping them together as his arms find their way around your waist.
“Found this place the other day,” he explains as if he could hear your thoughts, “I kinda regret not proposing to you here.”
“Don’t lie,” you mutter, knowing that he definitely does not regret whisking you away to his private condo in the mountains just to put a ring on your finger.
He laughs, pressing his forehead against yours. The cicadas chirp around you, and all is silent when he calms down except for your two breaths in unison. His gaze circulates from your eyes to your lips and then back to your eyes, and whatever triangle method he’s using is working because one second later, you lean in to press a sweet kiss to his lips.
He tastes like strawberries, and you smile against his lips remembering that you’d gifted him strawberry lip balm two days ago. Your man, your sexy, diligent man, following your orders to take care of his lips stirs butterflies in your stomach. The fact that you hold some kind of power over the Sohn family’s heir makes you feel a little dizzy, but your only response is to pull Eric closer and kiss him harder.
The sweetness of both the strawberry scent and the kiss fade as he presses back with just as fervor, adjusting his arms around you to pull you in tighter. The space between you feels unbearable, and despite the proximity between you two, the gap is still too big for your liking. You need him viscerally, every part of him on you as if the very concept of distance is poisonous and Eric is your antidote.
“Baby,” he whispers, pulling back with shallow breaths, “the car.”
You end up in the front seat of his car, the seat tilted backward and you in Eric’s lap. One of his knees holds you in place against your back, and his hands rest on your waist. The position is far too intimate that anyone walking by will know exactly what’s going on. Your kisses have turned heady, mirroring the darkness in his eyes and the way you clutch onto the front of his black shirt. You work on unbuttoning his shirt, but Eric distracts you with his tongue swiping across your lips and the way he softly bites when you protest. By some miracle, you finish moments later, and you run your hands down his skin. He shivers, and everything feels like pure electricity between you two the way his fingers press into your sides tighter.
(It will bruise tomorrow, but you don’t care. You’ll simply shrug on a shirt and try to fight a blush as Eric stares at you from the bed shirtless, a knowing grin on his face.)
His kisses trail down your lips, your cheeks, and your neck, finally finding a home in your collarbone, biting and sucking as if it was his favorite pastime. It probably is, with the way he kisses down your shoulder and tugs the strap of clothing down.
Your fingers trace his collarbone, and you hold his head in your hands as he looks up at you. He’s needy and restless, but he’ll always listen to you when you have something to say.
You may be an insignificant speck in the world, but in Eric’s eyes, you’re the whole universe.
“I love you,” you whisper.
It’s all you have to say before he flips you around, pressing you into the dip of the seat as he slides your clothing down. The air conditioning of the car and the ambient music bring goosebumps to your now exposed skin, but Eric makes everything disappear by resuming his previous ministrations.
He looks into your eyes before pressing a kiss right above your heart. It beats against your chest, heavy, and Eric knows it’s only for him. It will always be only for him.
“I love you too,” he whispers back, smiling against your skin.
♢ Trope: 8th f!member of BTS, strangers-to-lovers, Older!woman x Younger!man
♢ Genre: Fluff, suggestive, angst if you squint ig
⌲ Description: Being the 8th female member of BTS has brought you more trials than you could count. Now being the only one left behind after their enlistments was another obstacle you struggled adjusting to, until you found yourself hopelessly falling for someone completely unexpected.
↳ Warnings: Makeout session, swearing. Sunwoo being a flirty menace but we're loving it.
HOBI:
Good luck, Y/N! You’ll crush it like always!
JIMIN:
You’ll do great!
JIN:
We’ll be monitoring you :))
YOONGS:
Don’t be nervous, you’ll be amazing, kiddo.
JOONIE:
Y/N fighting!
JK:
Fighting!
TAE:
Go, go, go Y/N!
Despite the relentless thumping of your heart, or the cold sweat building up on the surface of your skin - there was no hiding the loving smile pulling at your lips as you scrolled through the messages in the group chat bombarding the notifications without you having to even ask.
Your members knew you well enough at this point after more than ten years together that when you went radio silent on all platforms, it meant you were drowning in your nerves.
Frankly, how couldn‘t you? You were the last of BTS to release your solo album, and only after all of them had enlisted into the military with you sending them off accompanied by a snotty nose each time. If you could, you probably would have enlisted as well despite being a woman just to not be alone until Seokjin or Hobi were to return.
Ah…This was hard. You thought, dropping the phone back on the table and looking yourself in the mirror.
Taking in your elaborate makeup and clothes, hair styled to perfection not a single speck of mascara or blush out of place. You were surrounded by people; your management team and stylists. People who had been with you for more than five years, but the loneliness had never felt more heavy than today.
You thought you had prepared yourself for it. Mentally that is. Your boys had also been exceptionally worried for your mental well-being for when it was time and made sure to give you all sorts of ways to communicate with them.
The irony was that you actually enjoyed your own space. Being alone at home for days and doing nothing besides your usual workout routine was ideal, truly.
Until you understood the saying ´You don't know what you have until it's gone.´
Clearly not as overly dramatic or depressing as the original meaning. But still, you felt their absence all the same.
The only comfort you could find from this was Yoongi with his alternative enlistment and still being around for you to find comfort in after his working hours.
But you hadn’t sought out his presence for a couple of weeks now, being too busy with your prep and wanting to let him get used to his new routine before barging in with your cries of loneliness.
“Maybe I should get a boyfriend…” You muttered to yourself, catching the delighted attention of your main stylist unnie, Aera, whose eyes widened at those words.
“You want a boyfriend?” She straightened up as if finding a 50 percent off sale on designer goods, making you regret having spoken at all. “Ooo, do you want me to introduce you to someone? I can set up a blind date! You like them like ten years older, don’t you? All alpha male and stuff? I know a couple of men like that.”
Her ranting and frankly too-knowledgeable about your preferences made you heat up in slight exasperation.
Okay, so what - you tended to gravitate towards buff, white men in their late thirties bordering on forties. Just because you might faint at the sight of Henry Cavill or Chris Evans hardly meant much for your real-life preferences.
Ask Jimin. You dated him – a brief one year - and he was hardly a carbon copy of Captain America or The Witcher.
“Unnie, I’ve already told you…”
Aera sighed before mimicking what you hardly believed sounded like yourself. “I know, I know. I’m not looking for anyone, it happens when it happens.”
It wasn’t the first time you’ve had this conversation with her.
“Besides, why is everyone being so pushy about me finding someone?” You directed this question to the rest of the room, who laughed amongst themselves at the truth of it.
“Because your last boyfriend was Jimin, and that is honestly sad, darling.” Your manager, Yoo-Mi, piped up from the corner while scrolling through her phone. Probably double checking your upcoming schedules and forward emails to the rest of the staff. She was always working despite you begging her to take it easy sometimes.
Turning around in your chair, you frowned. “It’s only been three years.” Going into the fourth since your mutual breakup.
“Exactly, sad.” She didn’t relent, making your shoulders slump, another titter of fond laughter spread through the room. “Listen, Jiminie is great, of course he is. So we don’t blame you for already reaching the top when it comes to standards in men. But when was the last time you had a crush?”
“A crush?” Even the word sounded foreign to you.
“Henry Cavill does not count.”
“But that’s a crush!” You exclaimed. “I could pull him.”
“That’s not a crush, that’s a fantasy. You haven’t even met the man.”
“Rude…” You mumbled with a pout, though admitting defeat.
Damn, so everyone thought your dating life was dry and depressing. Great.
You knew they all meant well, acting like an overbearing family. And in the end, they just wanted you to be happy.
“Y/N it’s time to head out.”
Standing up you took one last overview in the mirror before typing out a reply to the group chat.
Y/N:
I'm off now! Love you!
You had completely forgotten how music shows worked. It had been three years since the group promoted for ‘ON’ in the midst of covid with countless of measurements. You hadn’t stepped foot on a show since, besides supporting your members for their recent promotions.
It had also been more than a year since you’ve done any performances within Korea, having only just returned from your American solo promotions - so for you, everything felt more awkward than familiar despite your years of experience in the industry.
You heard the cheers of the crowd just as you walked into the studio where the live recording was going on for another boygroup, the hard-hitting smooth beats making your head nod as you stopped in front of a screen to overlook the stage.
Staff moved around you, securing a mic-pack before your sparkling microphone with a gradient purple to black found itself in your hand. The fans were screaming and chanting, and you found your attention caught without realizing it.
You counted ten guys on the screen as they danced fiercely in commendable synchronization looking like one single unit as they moved.
The Boyz was a familiar group to you, an old memory from an award show where they had asked BTS for a picture with shy grins and you had nearly cooed at their cuteness. Then again when Kingdom: Legendary War had aired you found yourself tuning in to watch every week.
However, this was the first you’ve seen of the group since then - having been far too busy to keep up with all the groups on the regular, never mind every single song.
You were enjoying the song currently playing, head nodding to the beat as you watched on.
Not even you noticed how you had simply frozen at the next chorus, your attention wholly stolen for a mere couple of seconds.
But it had been enough to change your entire world when the moment was recounted by your team in the future.
“Hi, hello,
My name is what you want it to
숨겨 왔던
욕망들을 whisper.”
Huh.
A sneeze suddenly forced itself out of you as you glared at the culprit, Aera smiling pointedly while holding a makeup brush that she had just tickled under your nostrils.
“What was that for?” You grumbled, the room coming back into your attention.
“My, my Y/N - is that a blush I see?” She teased as you scoffed, eyes flickering to the stage as the song came to an end.
“You’re being ridiculous.” You dismissed her swiftly, ignoring the hum she gave and letting her touch up your already flawless makeup.
You were waiting patiently near the stairs, letting your management team take the last checks for your setup as people rushed around on stage to clean up and get it ready for your performance.
The Boyz were making their way down and were impressively quick to notice you, though you blamed it on your bright white clothes in the darkness. You watched in patient amusement as some of their eyes widened, and even saw a member slapping the one in front of him with a muted gasp.
You offered them a friendly grin as their flustered bodies caught up and everyone started bowing, their waists nearly snapping in half as you took half a step forward.
“Please, take it easy.” You laughed lightly. “I loved your performance. The song is amazing.”
The obvious leader stepped forward, again bending at the waist but spoke with a sure and calm voice. “Thank you, Sunbaenim. It’s an honor.”
The members were quick to follow with various choruses of thank yous, however, some had accepted your words and took it a bit easier with the bowing.
“We love your album, sunbaenim. It’s been on repeat in the dorm since its release.” He continued to lead the conversation, the group of young men creating a half circle around you.
“Oh thank you so much!” There was no hint of any pretense in your tone, you were always immensely grateful when people told you they loved your music.
“You’re the leader, right? What’s your name?”
“Yes, I am. I’m Sangyeon.”
“Ah right!” Your fingers snapped in excitement. “I remember you, of course. From the MMA’s…was it 2018?”
Some of their eyes widened in surprise to know that you remembered them. You relished in it honestly, always loving to prove people wrong about the public’s assumption of how worldwide fame and recognition had made BTS arrogant and seemingly unapproachable.
“Y-yes, that’s correct, thank you for remembering us.”
“I enjoyed watching you on Kingdom.” You admitted, noticing how they were starting to relax around you, smiling more easily and paying attention as if you were the president holding a speech. “You were one of my favorite groups throughout the whole second season.”
Again they started bowing and thanking you, luckily less aggressive than earlier.
“Y/N-sshi, we are ready for you in five minutes. Please make your way to the stage, thank you.” A voice announced through the speakers as The Boyz started to bow again and ushered away as you offered brief goodbyes.
But then you made the mistake of looking up, finding yourself locked in a trance of soft, plump lips, thick eyebrows, puppy dog eyes, and a slim angular face - your throat felt parched as your mouth parted, but no sound came out and you snapped it back shut embarrassed.
Kim Sunwoo noticed the sudden strange behavior, as a single brow rose but he remained polite with a simple tug of his lips and a slight bow.
His dark straight hair was parted in the middle, reminding you of the styles from 90’s boybands. You admired the way his slim t-shirt molded against his lean body with the leather pants and a thick silver chain around his neck. A chain he had pulled seductively while gliding across the floor and stared into the camera.
An image still swimming in your mind.
An appraisal that you were quick to scold yourself over as you felt yourself blushing even hotter, eyes snapping away only hoping he didn’t notice your weird actions.
Only to find yourself stumbling over your own feet in a moment of rare clumsiness.
You managed to save yourself the embarrassment of falling to the ground, but only with Sunwoo’s quick thinking. Who had smoothly stepped close and held out a hovering arm just in case you were to fall, his other gently around your bicep to keep your balance.
Fuck, you were making a whole fool out of yourself.
No one had noticed it, thank goodness. All too busy with their tasks to pay attention to the interaction.
“Are you okay?” Jesus, his voice was deep. “Sunbaenim?” He hastily added, seemingly remembering your status.
“I-I’m okay.” You even stuttered now. Since when did you ever stutter. “Sorry, and thank you.”
“You should watch where you’re going.” He offered a half smile, those lips looking even more ridiculously plump and soft close as you stared up at him. “Careful not to get hurt.”
At this point, you were sure he noticed your flustered state as you cleared your throat and took a small step back out of his grip.
“I should get going.” Was all you managed to say in your embarrassed state, swiftly stepping past him to walk up the stage but not before glancing back and noticing the amused pull of his features as he quietly chuckled to himself and followed his members out.
Aera made her sudden presence known as you flinched at her proximity, only to feel your stomach drop at the near-manic grin on her face.
“Now that, is a crush, my dear.”
You wanted to curl up into a ball and scream your frustrations out from that whole interaction, but could only brace yourself with a smile as you were faced with the crowd who cheered as you came into view.
Dozens of ARMY bombs waving helped settle the worry in your gut just for now.
Nicely done, Y/N. Worldwide icon, indeed huh.
You were still thinking about it as you exited the stage studio.
So caught up in your lingering embarrassment and out-of-character behavior that even surprised yourself.
Over what?! A pretty face? A voice that made your skin tingle just by the rasp of it?
“Fucking get a grip, Y/N…” You muttered, fingers massaging your temples as you returned to your dressing room.
Only to walk straight into your next phase of what-the-fuck-is-wrong-with-you. Quite literally too.
Sunwoo let out a low ‘Whoa’ as you gasped and stumbled back to fully avoid running him down in your haste to hide yourself away until the nominations live broadcast.
The toilet sign hung above his head as he maneuvered both of you to the side and away from the doors.
“Oh my-” You were practically bumbling fool as your hands moved in silent explanation without many words to follow up, but he understood you well enough with a small, charming grin making his eyes crinkle and nose scrunch up just the slightest.
“Hello, sunbaenim.” He gave a polite nod of his head. “It’s one of those days, huh?”
“Yeah…” You sighed in defeat, hardly trying to keep up that big and mighty senior artist image any longer. “I’m sorry it’s been taken out on you today.”
Sunwoo never lost his smile. “Don’t worry about it. It’s hardly the worst thing that happened to me at music shows.”
You nodded thankfully, very much aware that you were avoiding looking at him directly. Just for your own sanity, if you were being transparent.
“You can stop that, by the way…” My god, were you shy, right now?
“Stop what?”
You cleared your throat. “Calling me sunbaenim all the time. I’m not very fond of the stiff formalities, so you can just relax around me.”
“Ah…” Even though you weren’t looking at him, you could feel his thinking. “Then… would noona be alright?”
Your neck might as well have cracked with how quickly you snapped up to stare at him with widened eyes. Only to meet a knowing smirk gracing his dangerously, pretty face.
“N-noona?” You repeated almost stupidly.
“And here I thought my breath smelled or something. You wouldn’t even look at me.” The smirk widened.
Calming yourself in record time, you were composed enough to retort with a halfhearted glare. “You’re making fun of me, aren’t you?”
“You are making it very easy.” Kim Sunwoo was a straightforward man, you realized. “I suppose I would be too if caught checking someone out.” Well fuck.
Your first step was denial. “I wasn’t-”
“Don’t feel embarrassed about it. I know I’m good-looking, noona. Just didn’t realize it was to the point of losing gravity.”
If you weren’t quick on catching onto dry humor, you might have thought him deadly serious with how flat he spoke those words. But you were well versed with this sort. Yoongi being a perfect example of it.
The exaggerated push you delivered against his shoulder came from a place of familiarity with your own members, and Sunwoo didn’t seem to mind the casualness of it as his facade broke and he laughed.
Giggling along, you shook your head. “You’re good.”
“I know.”
However, your smile fell at his sudden wince and how swiftly he managed to play it off within a second. But you were a quick study and noticed how subtly he rolled his neck.
“Are you hurting somewhere?” You were blunt in your concern, this time surprising him.
“Ah…” He was considering lying, you knew that. Having done it many times before yourself. But Sunwoo brushed the moment off. “It’s just a bit of muscle stiffness in my neck and shoulders, nothing too serious. Don’t worry about it.”
You scrutinized him for a couple of seconds before accepting it. “If you say so. But I wouldn’t be dancing as hard as you did today with that kind of pain. Be a little mindful at least and ease back.”
Sunwoo was appreciative of your advice, accepting it with a gracious nod and another, quite frankly, heart-palpating smile directed at you. You could probably just stand here and admire him for several minutes in silence if it was offered to you, but you had an image to maintain after all.
An image that fell through the moment Kim Sunwoo was involved.
“Getting lost in my beauty again, are you?” His teasing was never-ending, but instead of annoying you it only managed to pull your smile even wider.
“You are ridiculous.” Was all you managed to say with a chuckle.
He bit into his lower lip thoughtfully before deciding against whatever mental war he was having. “Ridiculous enough to ask for your number?”
There it was again. Your dry throat, and the way your heart probably skipped a beat.
“You…want my number?”
“I mean, who doesn’t want a BTS member’s number.” Sunwoo shrugged, that stupid fitted t-shirt and chain catching your attention again.
So you quirked a brow at him, knowing something else was coming. “And that’s your goal? A BTS member’s number?”
“That would be cool.” He was being awfully truthful until his eyes locked onto your own. “But I would love having the number of a beautiful woman more. Perhaps with a date on the side?”
Your surprise at his bold confession was hardly hidden, mouth parting as you blinked up at him expecting a joke to follow.
This wasn’t exactly the first time you’ve been asked out by someone, but it has always been a bigger or older senior until BTS blew up to the point other idols found it too intimidating to approach anymore. It was a love-hate relationship for you in those circumstances.
Yet Kim Sunwoo managed to cross those unwritten boundaries without fear of outside consequences, his gaze firmly locked on your own without notice of anything going on around you standing by the toilets in a public hallway.
“Are you sure you would want to risk that?” Those words tasted bitter on your tongue when all you wanted to do was say yes.
But you weren’t a fool. Anyone getting involved with BTS would always get a spotlight of any kind shone on them, wanted or not. And you made sure to warn them of it.
Sunwoo was not shaken by it. Only quirking up a brow as if saying so what.
Your heart thumped even harder. So you held out a hand and he wordlessly put his phone in it as the clicking of your manicured nails swiftly typed in your number.
You watched as he typed in whatever name he chose to give you in his contacts and pocketed the device again.
“I’ll be waiting for that date.” You smiled with satisfaction to see the top of his ears turning red, brushing past him.
So you weren’t the only one affected at least.
UNKNOWN:
What’s your favorite drink?
Y/N:
Who is this?
UNKNOWN:
I’m hurt, noona.
Y/N:
Ah
Hello to you too, Sunwoo
You changed Unknown’s name to Sunwoo.
SUNWOO:
Backtracking to the question.
Y/N:
I’m a coffee addict
SUNWOO:
Ofc, the drink of life. Let me guess, iced americano?
Y/N:
I’m more of a sweet latte girl
SUNWOO:
A woman after my own heart.
Y/N:
Alright you little flirt
Care to explain?
SUNWOO:
I’m planning for our date ofc
Y/N:
Oh? Did I miss the location?
SUNWOO:
It’s a surprise
Y/N:
Should I be worried?
SUNWOO:
Why do you keep doubting me :(
Y/N:
Acting cute won’t help you
SUNWOO:
heart emoji
Y/N:
But fine, better not disappoint me, Kim Sunwoo
I got high standards after all ;)
SUNWOO:
I guess the pressure is on
“Hi.”
“...hey.”
Your soft giggle on the other side of the phone made Sunwoo smile without realizing it.
“Why are you breathless?”
“Ah…” He kicked away a stray pair of pants on the floor before sitting down on his bed, making sure the door was closed. “I ran to my room when you called. We just got back from the schedules.”
“You could have just called me back.” There was rustling on your end, and looking at the time he assumed you were just getting into bed.
“I didn’t wanna leave you hanging.”
“Hm, what a gentleman.”
“For you? Always.”
You giggled again. A sound Sunwoo was certain he was becoming obsessed with hearing.
“I tried seeing you today.”
“Yeah.” He lowered his voice just in case any of his members were to hear him. “Me too. It was quite hectic today, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I know how it gets.”
“What did you do today?”
“Besides the music show? Just some interviews and a radio recording. I’m keeping my promotions at the bare minimum this time around.”
Stretching out on the bed, he couldn’t help but tease you. “Of course, the power of BTS.”
“Oh shush you.”
A silence settled between you. But it was a comfortable one, strangely enough. No awkward shuffling of clothes to have something to do, or the tense waiting for the other to speak.
“I like this.” His voice was grating with how low he was trying to keep it.
“...Like what?”
“This. Just talking to you, noona.”
Sunwoo could hear the smile in your voice. “I like this too. Very much so.”
It was hard to say how many hours the two of you spoke every night since that fateful day, but there were certainly no complaints on either end.
“This is fucking ridiculous.” Roughly peeling off the cropped denim jacket, you would feel guilty about how you threw it in the corner later. Aera would understand, hopefully.
The stupid conflict between HYBE and MBC was no industry secret. But you managed to convince your company to give them another chance by letting you promote there this time after several years of avoiding the place.
And did you regret it.
“Do they think they can take me for a fucking idiot because I’m solo?” You seethed, whirling to stare at Yoo-Mi. She had a displeased expression as well, already tapping on her phone furiously as mutters of annoyance spread through the rest of your management team.
You had been on a tense tirade the entire morning with the MBC production team and director about how you wanted your performance to be captured. They were obviously not used to how much creative freedom you were usually privy to and fought you the entire way, with passive-aggressive suggestions going against what you wanted.
They only kept messing up, from your mic glitching on stage to the sound being off in your in-ear despite your several attempts to fix it during rehearsals. So the final product ended up being a complete mess in your own opinion, finding faults in every single frame in the live broadcast, your voice not being clear enough, and backtracking far too loud to convince viewers you were singing live despite having more than enough proof throughout the ten years.
The haters would have a field day with that.
“-a complete mess today, I’m telling you!” Your manager’s voice was going on in the background.
“I can’t do this right now.” With a pointed look a Yoo-Mi, she nodded in understanding as you walked out of the dressing room towards wherever there were fewer people.
You found a random hallway, fairly empty with an empty cushioned bench away from the main area of dressing rooms. Slumping down with your back resting against the cold wall, you closed your eyes with a tired groan.
It was moments like these where you craved the support of your members. If this were Namjoon, he would not have relented in getting this perfect, Yoongi and Hobi right by his sides with their penetrating gazes to make sure. Jimin and Tae would be by you in their comfort, whereas Jin and JK would make extra sure that things weren’t spiraling out of control by being the compromisers in the middle.
You weren’t a pushover, far from it. But you weren’t one for confrontations unless absolutely necessary. Today could have gone several ways with much better results if not for the underlying conflict between business companies.
You don’t know if you dozed off or were simply in your own world. But the sudden cold, damp surface of something on your forehead made you flinch up as your eyes connected with the concerned ones of Sunwoo.
He held an iced coffee in hand, the same one he was pressing against your skin as you allowed yourself to relax.
“Are you okay?”
Standing up, you instead ignored the question and wrapped your smaller hand around his own still holding on to the cup. “Is this for me?”
He nodded, lips peeling back into a small smile as you accepted it. “A caramel macchiato latte, extra espresso shot.”
You had only mentioned your preferred drink once, but he had it memorized already.
“Thank you.”
Leaning with a shoulder against the wall, hand in a pocket - the concerned glint in his eyes never went away. Wearing a similar fit to the one when you first met him, Sunwoo was still as handsome as ever. Instead of a t-shirt, he wore a fitting turtleneck, a cropped blazer that made him seem even broader, and those damn leather pants with silver accessories adorned his hands, ears, and neck.
His slightly bronzer skin compared to others seemed to glow. A feature of him you would never be sick of admiring.
“Are you going to keep staring at me in silence?” Your lips quirked up before taking a sip from the drink, the taste of it getting your mood up.
“Not if you say what’s bothering you.”
“What makes you think there is?”
Sunwoo snorts. “I walked passed you earlier and you didn’t even notice.”
Glancing at the coffee in your hand. “And you went to get me coffee?”
“I thought you needed something to cheer you up.”
So you gave in. “Just creative differences with the director here. My manager is taking care of it.”
Sunwoo hummed in understanding. “But are you okay?”
His brows were furrowed, those lips you could never ignore pulled into the slightest pout. Swallowing your nerves you stepped even closer. Sunwoo straightened up at the proximity but not moving away. He waited for you.
“Can I hug you?” Your whisper practically melted him as everything about him softened.
“Of course.”
Without hesitation, you put the cup down on the bench before snaking your arms around his slim waist, face tucked into the hollow of his neck and shoulder, and breathed him in.
The aroma of ground coffee beans and subtle vanilla, all wrapped up in notes of sweet fruits and blended spices of sandalwood and sage; a scent you would forever associate with him from this moment.
Sunwoo’s arms wrapped around you, hand gently stroking your back as you relished in the comfort he was providing. A feeling you had missed immensely.
You were falling, and there was nothing to stop you from being completely consumed by the orbit that was Kim Sunwoo.
Sunwoo was mesmerized.
Quite frankly frozen to his spot in the dressing room, standing in the middle of the room, drink forgotten in hand as he stared at the screen where you were currently one of the last performers.
Fair enough, he wasn’t exactly old, still young at the age of twenty-three, and being one of the youngest in his group he was often reminded of it. But he wasn’t ignorant. Especially not enough to ignore the fact he had fallen easily and quickly down the rabbit hole that was Y/N of BTS.
Where everyone else saw the star quality encasing your every being, he managed to see past it. Your shyness that you often hid behind the pretense of a bold personality when faced with strangers. Sunwoo could see how you were struggling to be by yourself on stages where you used to be with seven others and had quite quickly used his presence as a comfort to chase your struggles away.
And he had happily complied. It started with texting until he crossed that line by calling you one evening after a scheduled music show where neither had managed to talk, but craved to.
After several of nights of calling each other, you surprised him one evening by turning on Facetime, sending his heart stuttering at the beautiful sight of you all barefaced in cozy pajamas under dim lighting as you settled yourself on a couch.
Yet you still hadn’t found time to meet properly. The end-of-year season was always hectic with the amount of promotions and award shows that went on, especially for his group. Making that long-awaited date having to be put on pause.
Sunwoo didn’t even expect you to attend after that fiasco of a recording earlier in the month until he woke up to a text this morning from you letting him know, with an unwritten hope to find some time to meet.
“Sunwoo’s in love.” A jest from one of his members snapped him out of the stupor as he simply rolled his eyes with a smirk, playing off the words even though they made him sweat.
If only his members knew the truth.
“She’s amazing.” Another compliment followed by several others as his members fell into a light discussion about you and your well-known ability to control a stage and make people pay attention by a single note of your voice. All that without the help of your members.
Sunwoo felt like the clock was dragging by - his energy and hope diminishing with each minute while pretending he was okay around everyone. The award show was nearing its end, with you closing it before all performers would meet for the closing stage.
He must have been one of the first members out the door when the call to gather was announced. His casual eagerness was enough to catch the curious attention of a few members, but he did the best he could to act his normal self.
The stage was packed with the dozens of groups and performances that had joined for the event. Sunwoo made sure to stay close to his group, but he also couldn’t help the way his eyes kept searching for someone in particular. He had caught glimpses of you walking around the stage waving at fans, but also greeting artists who were eager to say hi.
You were keeping close to your labelmates, TXT, laughing and smiling with them openly with an arm looped around Yeonjun’s like an older sister. Sunwoo would be lying if he didn’t feel jealous seeing you act so openly affectionate with them, but he reined in the green monster quickly.
He barely managed to reign in his shock when squished amid the crowd as everyone tried to leave the stage and a familiar hand wrapped itself around his own with a quick squeeze before letting go again. Sunwoo saw your back as you walked away in front of him, still beside TXT.
You never gave any indication it had happened besides the barest of glances over your shoulder.
The next time Sunwoo managed to see you was by being dragged quite forcefully into a cleaning supply closet as the door closed behind him with a thump and lock turning.
He huffed out a laugh as you stood before him, a guilty grin painted on your lips.
“Was that a bit too rough?”
“It was perfect.” Sunwoo continued to chuckle and finally took you in.
The two of you were matching in black, his an assemble of leather and silver accents, whereas you were all sparkling sheer fabric with thigh-high stilettos and matching mini skirt. Jesus fuck.
His throat bobbed as his male mind caught up to what was happening: standing in a small-sized closet in dim lighting, with you only inches away from him dressed like actual sin.
“Do you think they’ll notice?” You asked worried, gnawing on your lower lip. His gaze zeroed on the action.
“My members definitely have, but they’ll think I probably ran off to the bathroom.”
“We won’t have long then.” The downturned vision of glossy lips made him lick his own, in anticipation or nerves, Sunwoo wasn’t sure.
He could hear and feel everything now. The sound of your breaths, the rising of your chest, and the heat of your skin only a fingertip away from his touch. You must have caught on to the same desire because you finally looked at him - as in thoroughly looking, doing an appraisal of him from head to toe with a sly tilt to your head, eyes lingering on the cropped fabric of his shirt - lips pulling up into a smile.
Someone was clearly not feeling shy anymore. He didn’t know if it was a good thing for him.
“-can I kiss you, noona?” Sunwoo cut off any words you wanted to say. And you didn’t seem all that surprised. “I need to kiss you. actually.”
“Need to, huh?” You were clearly very amused by his words. “Then who am I to stop you?”
Oh yeah. Definitely a dangerous turn for his sanity.
“You’re such a tease.” Sunwoo couldn’t help but mutter as he hauled you against him firmly, cutting off your giggle with his lips which turned into a pleased sigh.
Your arms reached up to wrap around his neck, pressed up against each other down to your hips as you raked your nails through his scalp causing a shudder and a groan to leave him.
Sunwoo kissed you enthusiastically but slowly, seemingly on a mission to memorize every single crevice in your mouth, those plumb lips feeling even softer on your own. He turned your bodies around, never separating from your mouth when he suddenly bent only to pick you up.
You squeaked in surprise, pulling back momentarily only to be pushed even firmer against the door, your legs spreading to accommodate him between your thighs, your skirt scrunching up.
That all melted away as you let out a soft moan as Sunwoo finally sucked on your tongue, humming against you with a smirk tugging in the corner of his mouth. He moved away, to the corner of your lips, behind your ear, and down to your neck - wet kisses and his tongue making you pant as your thighs squeezed around his hips.
Your fingers that were already in his hair tightened their grip even further, holding him against you where he was kissing your neck with a breathless whine and Sunwoo only chuckled at your reaction.
Honestly, you hadn’t expected him to pick you up just like that. But no part of you was certainly complaining by the turn of events.
He was more than ready to go further, you noticed. And to be fair, so were you. So strung up with your nerves desperate to find release in any kind that you could have fucked him right in this closet. If it weren’t for the time and place.
Manvouring Sunwoo’s face back up, you only got a glimpse of his flushed appearance, lidded eyes, and swollen lips before you kissed him again. This time much slower, trying your damn best to calm both of you down.
Your feet found the ground again, Sunwoo leaning in over you with both hands cupping the back of your neck almost too gently, but a hold that you couldn’t help but rest into.
It was a struggle to separate, he found out. Pulling back but always needing to dip back in for another kiss or peck. He did it so many times that you ended up laughing.
“Fuck, I can’t seem to let you go,” Sunwoo murmured, thumb caressing your cheek softly as your eyes sparkled up at him.
“It’s not the last time.” You assured him, leaning in to press your lips against his neck for a little teasing touch as you smirked in satisfaction feeling him shudder before nuzzling close.
“I know…” He sighed heavily, obviously not wanting to leave, but the clock was ticking. And the more time they spent lost in each other’s arms would make everyone else around them more suspicious.
So with a heavy heart and frankly, half a boner - Sunwoo pushed himself away so you could open the door. He took the lead, peeling it open slowly and looking both ways to see it was surprisingly sparse with only a couple of staff on the other end.
You held onto his hand from behind him, sneaking out slowly as the door clicked shut. From there both of you rushed to where your dressing rooms were - you only being a few doors down from him.
Just as the sign of The Boyz were in view, Yoo-Mi, your manager came out of your door and freezing both to the spot.
Sunwoo cursed, body tensing beside you, but he was assured quickly to see the almost entertained smirk on the older woman’s face as she waltzed in their direction.
“Unnie.” You greeted her sheepishly, never letting go of his hand. You actually moved closer as Sunwoo bowed in greeting.
“Not a crush, huh?” That was all Yoo-Mi said before shaking her head and moving on. “I’m going toilet, be quick, we’re leaving soon.”
Then they were alone again. Slowly glancing at each other, Sunwoo bit down on his lip before snorting out a laugh with you following with a low laugh.
“That went well.” He grinned.
“We really have to go now,” You gave a pointed look at their intertwined hands.
“Yeah…” His grin didn’t fall as his large hands gently gripped your hips and pulled you closer. You hardly had the power to resist him. “Goodbye kiss?”
“You will be the death of me, Kim Sunwoo.”
Sunwoo leaned down with a mischievous tilt to his mouth, lips brushing against yours as he spoke. “But you would love that, noona.”
Leaning up you sealed the kiss softly, hands resting on his chest only to flinch apart the very next second.
“Yah Kim Sunw-!”
Q or Changmin stood in the open doorway with his mouth dropped open, only for the two of them to realize they had placed themselves directly in front of The Boyz’ dressing room.
Giving a complete view of both of them to everyone inside as heavy silence fell.
Well. There went the secrecy.
“What…the hell?”
Simultaneously taking in the jaw-dropped expressions of his members. You and Sunwoo couldn’t hold back your nearly manic cackles as you fell into him for support.
“Am I dreaming?” Someone wondered out loud in English.
If this was a dream, then you would never want to wake up.
To any lovers left alive ( 恋人たち ‘The Lovers’ ), l.jy
inspired by weathering with you ( 2019 )
a failed love goddess saves herself by fleeing to earth and an ordinary hopeless romantic boy ( with his self claimed younger brother ), together they start a fail-proof service that can make the love of your life fall for you too. as he teaches her human relationships, they eventually come to adore each other too. though, as the universe's not in their favor, only left is to hope.
PAIRING lee juyeon x fem!reader, high schooler!eric
GENRE FLUFF, pretty angsty, slight fantasy, little smut ( MDI 18+ ), greek mythology!au ( eros & psyche ), hanahaki disease!au ( no one dies <;3 ), teaching love!au, forbidden rules aren’t in their favor love , little crime!au, amnesia!au, they run a love service, it rains a lot, human!juyeon, eros!reader, strangers to friends to ( nearly ) lovers, mutual pining ( but juyeon does it harder ), cute flirty needy juyeon, hopeless romantic and lovesick!juyeon, y/n likes to tease juyeon, adopted little brother!eric, high schooler!eric, makoto shinkai type of love like your name ( 2015 ), weathering with you ( 2019 )
WARNINGS call reader angel once, say fuck about 5 times, knife used as a metaphor of anger ( once ), juyeon finds and fires a gun, petty crime, ANGST — > bittersweet ending, fictional disease ( not conventionally used! ), amnesia, descriptions of coughing and breathlessness, mentions of violence ( physical ), SMUT — > kissing, making out, oral ( f receiving ), palming, dry humping, soft begging, p in v, unprotected ( don’t try at home ), juyeon’s touched starved af, both are kind of switch, very fluffy smut
WORD COUNT 33.6 k
PLAYLIST
a/n : this is one of my favorite pieces ive written so I hope you like it! don’t try to translate the japanese on the banner😭, it’s literally just bs to make the banner look like the movie posters😭 I don’t usually write smut, but I thought it added to the story. but don’t worry! it’s very soft and not hardcore at all ( very fluffy ). it’s a bit angstier than my other works, not by much, it’s predominantly fluff. it’s very melancholic!
like and reblog are highly encouraged!
"A RECENT SPIKE IN NEW USERS FOR DATING APPS HAS CAUSED DEVELOPERS TO BE ASTOUNDED.
At the same time, hashtags like love is dead are trending number one on social media platforms like Twitter. Young people all over the internet are sharing their recent heartbreak, leaving us to question the mega romance struggle of the youth generation.”
When the glass door to the inner room falls close behind her, the voice from the TV in the left upper corner becomes merely a vague presence in the night. It ceases between the synthetic material of her raincoat in the harsh weather as she stands on the deck, a meter from the center. A wind from far away collides with the fragment of her face beneath the hood. How the rain, cold, impacts her skin before they descend down the curvature.
But between the loose strands in nonexistent patterns before her eyes, shines the city in total divine. Each lightsource, limited in a single square, stacked on top of the other, reflects in the water as they approach port.
The boat collides with the stone lining surrounding the city port. It echoes over the raging sea and Y/n forces her hands deeper down the fabric of her pockets. While the people in neon green vests let the metal reach over to land, the dock, she for a single second stood alone on, is slowly filling over with people from indoors.
The vague heat across the passengers clothes as they pass her by. She stands still to let them cross the arch above water without reflection. Y/n walks out the metal bridge with the last five passengers. When her body reaches fast land, she hears resonant voices from the workers behind, together with the metal being thrown up against the dock.
At the very edge of the city, she looks up towards the highest lights, where the towering buildings fade into the rain clouds. To then look down, where the crowd of passengers enters between litten up corners. The backpack on her shoulders feels immensely light as she looks at the nearest street where signs emit neon blue and starlight yellow.
But as the celestial behind the clouded sphere continues to move when she stands underneath it, Y/n forces the straps higher and walks between the entrance of neon delight.
The storm from the first day she laid her eyes on the city, still lingers over the high buildings. Though, the heavy rain that plummets against the architectural dimensions, can’t reach her in between all these walls. In a hostel room, cramped between six–five enclosures, until the very outer edge of the building meets weather, she sits cramped up against the computer desk.
Teared tour guides of the metropolitan city, stacked on top of each other, and the white screen in complete view of her vision, showcases link after link of potential jobs. Every blue sentence turns purple as she passes down the page. But each leads to a paragraph with a solid brick wall. From the first word down to the next five, Y/n doesn’t have to read more to realize she isn’t qualified.
At last, at the tail end of the first page, she finds an application for a job at a hostess bar. Three clicks among the main streets on google maps, she finds the neon sign in an alley. Half of its radiance, covered by alternate indorses. The street view won’t let her in to see the entrance, compressed between shadows.
Y/n falls back into the chair. The rectangular screen ventures from sight field as her mind receives the blue illuminated walls and brown wood of the desk. One can barely see the floor in this precarious space, therefore, she leans further back, embraces her legs and watches the ceiling. The walls impend on her figure, but somehow she feels guarded. Between all layers, she stays hidden from the eyes of the storm or silhouettes remote from street lights.
The complete silence of this space, bane in a second, being her stomach. A kind of sound that only comes by hunger, and a sort that pains at the very inside of the body. Y/n looks down from the walls, lets one arm off her legs and gently wraps it around her stomach.
Her eyes wander the table. Between the small titles of books, keyboard and paper scribbles, lies three bills in vertical order. A single shadow beneath the gaping parts where paper bends, causes of the light from the screen. Y/n stares at it as if it will change. But the only thing in motion is the light from the computer, when she hasn’t moved the cursor and the white fades to a darker shade.
Her shift will be tomorrow night, and the money beside the computer will be needed for the morning, in the badly lit register, where a man sits behind a scratched plastic veil. The same sound from before lingers between the room and Y/n gently stands up. The chair creaks as she pushes it under the table and turns against the artificial light, to get the plastic raincoat, dripping of water from the weather thundering outside.
“I apologize, I’m-”
“Out! You’re fired!”
The last words leaving her mouth echoes over the blue-red litten street. As his face is only a centimeters from the back door, she takes the handle and forces it close. The sharp edge of the black metal tears the space in between them. His eyelids fall shut, chin down towards his chest as his right foot trips over the elevation in asphalt. In the limited back door space, where he stands secluded from rain, are two plastic bins. His feet touch the ground where water has endured along concrete and created a static puddle. The opposite loses grip and his shoulder lands on the brown bin, at the edge of the cubicle.
How in an instant, the fall of rain against concrete existed only auditorily, but to now soak his white shirt. The brown bin, together with his own silhouette, falls down the asphalt, creating waves in the thin build up of water. All its insides are dispersed across the alley, beside his knee, to the cigarette ashtray down the other wall.
He lets hands coat himself in midnight rain as he forces to stand. Assemble the pieces in neon light as he desperately wonders where to take himself next. Wherever his thoughts seem to take him, his mind always runs back to his brother.
When the bin stands upright, at the place it first belonged, he sees a brown paper bag below it. Sealed in tape across the opening. To reach down and see dark spots form, where his fingers touch the paper. His eyes curiously brightened by the red neon sign above. The paper bag, tightly shut, seamlessly goes into his pocket. Even as he comes out the back alley of restaurants and out the high end street where people without faces covered in raincoats brush against him, he thinks about the slight weight change in his right pocket.
-
At the glass door into a fast food chain where a doorstep separates the water and white clear floor, he steps in. When it locks to the frame, the weather becomes simply a vague background shatter against the windows. Instead, static rhythms come from the TV in the higher corner.
He finally takes a seat. Black tray decorated in a thin piece of paper with his order placed on top. The grease of the burger seeps through the wrapping. As he sits on the extended piece of table up against the window, he sees fragments of a color spectrum in the dark as people pass him by. He takes off his marine blue raincoat, water courses through the folds and down the hem, before it assembles and falls to the floor. To let it continue pour beneath the chair as he places it on the back rest. He sits down again, sees his reflection in the window. Though supposed to be a transparent barrier to another scene, in the dark, even windows become mirrors. He sees a vague outline of his metal plate on his uniform. “Juyeon”, outlined in two languages fully black. Before opening his meal, he unclips the brooch and lays it beside the tray.
While half way through his burger, the paper bag in the right pocket off his raincoat crosses his mind. Still with the burger in one of his hands, the other reaches to the end of his raincoat, where the hem line dances upon the floor. It whispers of paper and he has it only a centimeter or two below the table. Juyeon’s chin leans forward and the strands of his fringe fall with it.
He turns it upside down and inspect the crinkled sides. Finally lets his food down the tray to use both hands to gently loosen the tape from the fibers. The fold at the very top of the brown bag opens and Juyeon cautiously reaches his finger in between.
He can’t completely ascertain why he took it. Maybe because there’s no firm reasoning to argue, since it was only pure curiosity. One doesn’t throw a sealed package in the bin, he thinks.
Strands of his fringe seem to fall faster when his eyes reach for the black complexion hiding beneath the paper. The skin of his fingers feels cold hard material, and when his hand returns, revealing half of the object in matt black, his eyes go from curious to wide of racing heart.
He only sees the object for a second, but nonetheless, Juyeon brings it to his stomach and leans over the table. The bag is in full shadow beneath his body and eyes coated in a thin layer of horrid adrenaline, watching the surrounding tables. When the weighting pressure against his chest has started to loosen and the avid line of light in his eyes has run out, Juyeon leans up a little. Let the radiance from the spotlight ceiling find its way in and make sense of the object again.
As he sat and wished it was a dream, beneath him, in his own lap, lies a gun. Sharp lines of its corners contrast violently against the color palette of the restaurant. Juyeon takes his hand down towards it, feels the weight. Sounds of dark pitch when tapping his nail against it. There is no frame in his mind whether the object in his lap is a real gun. Closest being a toy gun from the local kids shop in younger days. It could not be real, he thinks, as it turns to the other hand.
Either way, when Juyeon once again looks up, the scenery is as serene as the first time. At the highest corner above the toilets is a screen. TV that, instead of music distracts from the overbearing silence of a strange place, plays the news. The woman in the suit talks about the spike in dating apps. With the first mention of romance, Juyeon looks away. Cage the voice, to simply return to background noise, without a purpose of being understood.
For the last time his eyes recoil to the gun. Juyeon takes up the paper bag again, folding it gently around the gun before reaching to his jean pocket. If it’s real, he needs to keep it hidden and preferably leave it inside another dark alley along the city streets. And if it is just simply plastic, it bears no consequences.
Where paint starts to fade, cloth seen behind the window and electric cables rather than leaves. Y/n stands on her toes to inspect the details of glass into private lives. An apartment complex compressed between five others, stairs where the rain varies in flow, down each step to the closest drain and three windows in lack of light.
In contrast to the constant pedestrian crossings further away, places like these may hold people with forgetful minds about their doors, or just the framework itself that is supposed to protect them, won’t.
At the third floor of the complex in gray shade, is a dark window with broken lining placed a meter from the stairway. Y/n has gone into the alleyways where lush plants of the forever rain covers any spots where street lamps would shine between the high buildings. It's cramped, shoulders brush between edges of green plantation and feet nearly trip over pots. There are metal fences in blue pigment that creak every time she opens or closes them. But at last, she stands at the end of the stairs, beside a plant, suffocated in water.
To reach out the window with red hands as an effect of cold, onto the ice metal lining. It hurts in those fingers but nonetheless, Y/n continues to pull on loose pieces and hit the frame. As another wind rises, a star dies and one room in the neighborhood darkens. The square design loosens from the complex and creaks amidst the rain shatter.
It’s simple to take one step onto the sill and force one’s body up the elevation, to then fall to the opposite floor. Though, as Y/n then stands up to observe the secret world of someone else’s, she feels just a little guilty as eyes return to the floor. How her shoes holding rain frees it, and causes thin puddles to collect beneath. Y/n turn her head, two beds beside her, and way in, a kitchen. She walks up to the counter where a few plates are stacked and the window above the sink opens for light over the otherwise shadowed details.
Immediately, there’s a neatly organized box of ramen packages close to the sink. Placed in color order, Y/n’s hand, just a little hesitant to actually reach out and ruin it. Three red’s that she gently puts in her raincoat, because it was most of that color. Now her eyes adverts from the counter up to the shelves. Hidden furthest where the sharp lines and walls cut off any highlights, she sees a plastic bag. Y/n stands on her toes to force her hand in, it echoes of plastic throughout the apartment. When reading the label, it’s melon bread.
A sudden sound goes through the walls, a click from the hallway behind her. Y/n looks over her shoulder to see a streak of yellow light, painting the floor before it disappears when the door closes once again. Fabrics and keys, chaotic in that part of the complexion and Y/n stares at the wall before the new presence. All thoughts that race through her mind, become none when they all collide into each other. A fragment of an idea does make itself out of the blur. But there is no use in hiding beneath the sink or running towards the window, because when her eyes drift for an escape, the person reveals himself and stares eye to eye with her.
As if body, absent like two curtains drifting apart, her soul left before him. She hasn’t realized the anonymity in the real world until the eyes of someone else, truly authenticate her existence. How much of humanity is just to fill up old space and pass each other in it.
As neither of them say anything, a second silhouette appears from the hall.
“What’s wrong-” He, a distance in height from the former and in navy school uniform with a backpack, halts his words when closing in on the taller, and then follows the line of stare to her figure. The taller’s eyes turn sharp in casted light from outside. He takes a step back to the one in school uniform, so his body hides from her sight, aside from the glimpse of hair and eyes above the shoulder.
“Who are you?”
Y/n lift her hands up to head length, the plastic of red vibrant packages crinkles with it, “I’m not here to hurt anyone.” She purses her lips in, tears her eyes away from theirs as she watches the city framed in the window. To let her hands down again, Y/n stacks the three red packages on top of each other and the bread neatly beside.
“I’ll leave.” Her shoes stain the floor and cold air forge divides them as she passes down the hallway. The one protected by a taller shoulder, watches her take the door handle and turns when he feels the presence of the one before him alter.
“You didn’t take anything else?” The taller one asks while looking at her. The line of his shoulders aren’t as tense, the shine in his eyes from the awake city at night, reflects like a single star rather than the red light at the tops of soaring buildings. Y/n holds her hand still on the metal, shakes her head. Soon after, he frees his back from the shorter, continuing up the counter. Eyes of the one in uniform follows him and lingers in the direction plastic can be heard. Then, in a slightly faster haste than daily walk, he comes up to her with the three ramen and bread.
Her eyes remain in wonder over his two hands with mere distance to her own. And as another second passes, she sees a fruit bar of sorts on top of the ramen. Y/n takes her eyes off the food in an uncertain manner, towards the window. The student who still glances in her direction, stays at that line of floor.
The plastic sounds again as he motions it towards her. His fringe follows that action, “You needed the food.” He says gently and this time, fully extends his arms to let the vibrant material fold gently against her stomach.
Y/n finally lets her hands around it, rain on her coat, now spreading across the synthetic. The shoes on her, find themselves in an awkward position and vision wanders between two points. Therefore, the boy gently nods and purses his lips in.
Her hand finally weighs down on the handle and a light, much stronger than the moon, opens from that point. It casts itself over him and the one further into the apartment. She for the first time realizes the complexity in human features as the highlights contrast with its shadows.
“Thank you…I’m sorry.” Y/n says quietly before closing the door.
There’s an empty seat to his right at the back of the bus. Sunshine behind the cloud layers has passed, and during evening, the rain remains, and shatters against the windows with an ever changing view. Juyeon watches each droplet race across the glass before it implodes against the edge. The sequence as if taken out of a memory, he stares for a bit longer.
A monotone voice lingers along the bus as it comes to a stop. The rain enhances when the doors separate. A woman in the middle of the bus walks out and at the front steps a boy in. By only a faint glimpse of his profile, even in between the masses of crowds, Juyeon would make out the features and smile as he does now. Eric waves goodbye to two girls standing beneath the door before turning his head, locking eyes with Juyeon at the very back.
Eric takes the right seat next to the older. Let the backpack off his shoulders and lie it in his lap. Juyeon observes each action and synthetic fold of the material til the door closes and the cityscape moves forward. The younger one suddenly looks up at Juyeon who still smiles, so much that his eyes start to crease.
“Player.” Juyeon pats his shoulder against Eric’s. Meanwhile the one in sudden accusation takes up the umbrella, where it has compiled a small puddle. It spills rain on their pants as he waves it towards Juyeon, and he lets out a laugh and covers his face behind his hands. Before Eric has gotten the entire backseat rain covered, Juyeon takes his wrists and forces it down.
“I’m not.” Eric switches to a more comfortable position, “You’re just hopeless.”
Juyeon scoffs, “I’m not.”
Eric does the same, leaning his body over Juyeon’s, and hand, reaching for his pocket. Eric is back in his own seat before Juyeon’s expression converts. While Juyeon furrows his eyebrows and asks him what he’s doing, Eric has his lockscreen on perfect display, HD in all dimensions, perfectly framed in the rectangular screen. The younger one turns the phone up against his nose.
Juyeon would scold him, but his lips fall shut as the smile from dreams enters his sight once again. The picture is from a day in which the weather was warmer and the sun stood in complete limelight, cloud curtains out of view. A month has gone by, but somehow it feels as if glimpsing into a past life as he makes eye contact with the captured past.
Juyeon takes the phone back, holds it in two hands. Eric sits quietly to observe Juyeon, and quickly sighs when the older doesn’t turn off the screen. Juyeon looks up, visible pout on his lips and fallen eyes, he consciously holds the phone while Eric falls back in his seat.
“You still have her as your lockscreen?”
He doesn’t answer.
Eric sighs again, “Hopeless.” He widens his eyes, “Hopeless!”
Juyeon too leans back, letting the younger’s words drown him like the downpour. The screen close to his face again. Somehow, the longer he stares at it, he feels as if she will stand there again before him, like the spring they first met. But each night he longingly waits, but rain season never ends.
-
At the last stop, where there’s only vague lights and dark roads. They walk under their own umbrellas. The shatter over the bus seems to haunt them wherever they go. From where cars and buses flashes beside each scenery, building walls close in on them. Each meter reaches beyond the next alley, how it feels as if the edge of the umbrella will make marks in the walls.
It is quiet between them, Juyeon looks at Eric and observes the delicate details over his face. He smiles where the umbrella covers it. Some days, on the same street, Eric’s voice can echo past the last wall and reach further out to the sides where the signs extend. And other days, his imaginative world stays where it was born. Juyeon guesses it must have been a tiring day.
An abrupt sound from a left alley draws a crack in the ambiance evening. Eyes of the two turn towards that vague litten path. Their sneakers cease to form circular patterns in puddles as their vision tries to reach in between the signs. At last, they finally see the figure of a girl moving backwards, away from someone on the other side as her hands extend against the wall. A shout echoes again and a man comes from the opposite side, charges against her and she pulls herself even higher up the wall.
The two of them stand like nature in mid winter, frozen and left to watch the world. Eric’s eyes become wider when the man pulls off her raincoat hood, tauntingly gestures his hand to her face and takes a grip on her hair. The frown on Juyeon’s face reads. Though, none of them steps another foot into the alley.
“Juy-” Eric whispers but his voice disappears when Juyeon walks forward. Each step on the stones becomes slower as he falls in line with the center.
There’s a second presence underneath nightlife entrance. He catches sight of Juyeon first, shine of fine metal as he sharpens his eyes. Juyeon’s dispute in cautious surveillance as the man and girl shift towards him. As they lock eyes, Juyeon recognizes her features. It’s of manmade light, though, familiar as ever.
“What do you want?” The one with turned back asks.
Juyeon deliberately closes his hands around the umbrella, “Please, let go of her.”
The man scoffs, “It’s none of your business, Boy.”
“I’m telling you to take a step away from her.”
“As I said,” The man takes his hands off the wall, reiterating those words as he comes closer.
“It’s none of your business!”
The man forces his heavy arms on Juyeon’s shoulders. Lean his weight onto his palm until Juyeon falls backwards. His left foot comes behind the other, and his hand nearly loses the umbrella. Before he comes upon the asphalt, a hand on his collar obliges the rain to violently graze his face.
At the same time, the girl walks off the wall. Contempt she takes her hand out to grip the man’s blazer. Though, before her fingers touch the black fabric, the second man comes behind her. The weight of his arm comes over her shoulders, coercing her knees to fall.
Juyeon, through the cruel grip in high angle, sees her struggle. He verges on violence, taking the loose end of his blazer and pulls him closer. But when the man loses balance, both his hands come over his shoulder. Weighed down on opposite sides, causing Juyeon to groan. Over him, he constraints Juyeon, forcing ground to pierce his back.
How the cold rain seeps through the clothing, soaks his skin until red and itches. As he tries to force his legs up, the man pushes his weight onto him harder, hands against his throat. Barely breathing, it’s enough to convert rain to stars, being buried six feet under. Each tear from the sky falls in his eyes and Juyeon irregularly closes them so as to make eye contact with the one above.
“What will you do about it, Boy?” He taunts.
Shirt scratches against the ground once more, a raindrop falls onto a middle point of his eyes. Juyeon trails his right hand onto the asphalt. Each sharp edge of the black stone seizes his skin and draws white patterns. He reaches for his pocket, desperately lifts on his body to make room for just a centimeter as water leaks into his clothing. Before his thighs weighs down his own, Juyeon gets the gun out. Takes his opposite from the ground, has the two of them on the trigger. With fully extended arms, he directs it towards his face, the hole as a third eye beneath him.
He scoffs from above, “Like you will kill me either way?”
Raincoats folding against each other to the left, as the other man holds Y/n down. His strong complexion covers Eric down the alley and Juyeon secures his eyes on the man. Pressure sores from the grinding teeth as his point finger shakes over the extinguisher. The rain falls down the matt material of the gun and down his skin. He curses the damn gun for being plastic as the man’s aggravation fuels constraint. A last taunt leaves his lips, rage when sunken to hell, crosses his chest as if by a knife, Juyeon pulls the trigger.
Juyeon closes his eyes the moment the trigger transcend the boundary, and an ear piercing sound shocks between the high walls. Loss of vision, it feels as if the entire platform adheres to that wave. Once he opens his eyes, the shockwave has consumed all provoke. To trail the dust, it ascended and broke a street lamp, devastating the lucent.
He distances himself, wide eyed, etched in terror, Juyeon lies still, seeing his pretense have grown ugly from the sudden shatter as the man takes two steps back. Juyeon finally sits up, rests his hand against the asphalt while still in condemnation. He tears it in a second to turn left. The girl holds the same posture as the two others, he realizes there’s no hands on her shoulders. Juyeon forces himself up, grabs her arm and collides shoulders with the man. He sees Eric standing at the same position as he left him and breathes til it hurts.
“Run!” Juyeon shouts.
-
He sees those windows he walks by everyday, and Eric accelerates his feet to fall in line with Juyeon. The younger takes him by the upper arm jacket and forces him to stop.
“Where the fuck you get the gun?” Eric spits.
Juyeon tears his arm away and looks at the streetlights in row. No stranger is present under the yellow light, so Juyeon looks back towards Eric and forces the gun lower in his pocket.
“I found it in a paper bag, I didn’t know it was real.” He sighs, “I’ll get rid of it tomorrow, okay?”
Eric doesn’t argue further, instead takes a step back from the circle of light surrounding them. Eric stands with his back against him, head advancing in parallel to the ground as his wet shoes touch the dead grass in between the wall and asphalt.
“Why did you do that?”
Juyeon turns around, a thin layer of startle lies over the pupil and his chest still falls heavily from lack of air. He blinks a few times as the girl’s shoulders fall with her chin. Only a finite part of her features is visible in streetlight and the two boys wait for her in silence as she turns in her place and watches the obscure details of the wall.
“I needed that job.” She says finally and looks up. The rain at her scalp runs down each strand until it forms a droplet at the edge. Until it lands on the skin beneath her eye.
Juyeon watches her cold written figure in fabricated light with mouth slightly agape, as if wanting to say something but no words are to use. The older feels a sudden push against his upper arm. To slip one dimension out of trance, he looks down where the wall becomes background and Eric waits impatiently. Eric’s left side leans continually towards her direction in haste, as his eyes widens. Juyeon stares at the action for a second, until returning, with the same expression as before but with a burden from the shorter.
“I’m sorry…” Juyeon starts. She too face him, chin still a centimeter down and pupils drained of rain, or maybe worry.
“...I thought you were in danger.” He focuses on the point where the worn down wall meets the asphalt and green complexion grows amidst. How his cold hand runs up to his neck where even his hair hasn’t been saved from downpour. There’s a sort of diversion in the way he looks down, seeming to stare at a point far away. As if it were a clear night sky with four constellations, he speaks again.
“I shouldn't have assumed, I’m sorry.”
Eric gives no part in sound, but still, nods his head gently. The girl at the other side of the faint circle, illuminated by the lamp, presses a faint smile.
“You’re forgiven.”
Juyeon looks up fully and as if another star convulsed, their expression shifts and her features are now in full view. How the moon in her veil has finally revealed the hidden side and the girl smiles fully. She shakes her head to make room for the skin concealed in strands. A filter in blue green light, enchanted by city night, conceal the space they stand in and she feels two leaves opening up its sides to reveal itself.
“I’m Y/n.” she takes out her hand, cold as the other two’s.
“I’m Juyeon.” He shakes her hand, “This is Eric.” And motions it to the younger.
“Hello.” Eric says with a pressed smile.
Y/n tilts her head, a visible change in angle as she looks at Juyeon then Eric.
“Are you brothers or?”
“Yes.” Eric says. Juyeon laughs awkwardly.
“Not biologically, Eric’s my adopted brother and my mother passed away recently.”
“Oh, sorry for your mother.”
Juyeon shakes his head gently, “She had been sick for sometime, we take care of each other well, right Eric?” He touches his shoulder with his elbow which causes Eric to look up.
“Mm!” He nods.
Eric is eventually the one to ask Y/n to come in with them as the rain starts once again. Her raincoat is as wet as theirs and during the interval of their conversation, even puddles form beneath their coats. Y/n is the last one left in the bathroom. She stands with her hair above the tub, draining remaining water from her hair. Juyeon edges on the doorframe to the bathroom, looks at her with vast eyes before walking to his bed. He lends her a muted green set of clothing that he can’t remember from where.
“You’re not from here, are you?”
Y/n shakes her head in the bedroom.
“I took the boat here.”
“Where do you come from?” Juyeon asks, seated at the edge of the bed. His hands gathered at the front of his lap. Y/n looks down her own, takes the hem between two fingers before speaking.
Her tone is gentle, birds sing in the arch of her, “I don’t think you’ll believe me.”
"Why?" You can tell us.” He tilts his head.
She wonder over the ceiling. Underneath this roof, it feels as if none can hurt her, “I’m not human.”
Juyeon’s quiet, smiles cautiously to mirror her, “I-”
His first thought is to reach out his hand and tell her she’s obviously wrong, but, there’s a certain rudeness in telling a mere stranger they have an incorrect idea about themselves.
Y/n laughs, “Do you believe in gods, Juyeon and Eric?” She looks at the two beds.
“No.” Eric answers immediately.
“Then, I have to break it to you.” She looks at Eric, “I am the love Goddess.”
“Yeah, and I’m a Unicorn.” Eric laughs.
“Eric?!” Juyeon panics, in which Y/n laughs again.
“Don’t worry about it, you don’t have to believe it.”
Surrounded in conversations for a bit longer as her coat drips of rain still. The two of them come in on work, when Juyeon asks her. Y/n scratches her head as she tells him it was her only chance at a job. That nearly everything is gone after the city journey. Juyeon bites his lip and shifts weight in the bed as that hidden guilt echoes within.
“Can’t you start a service?” His sudden voice lingers over the hard floor. Y/n has her head in his direction, with eyes casted by the little lamp beside the mattress. Juyeon takes his hand on the edge of the bed and Eric watches from the opposite side how he settles onto his knees, further than a meter distance, but close enough for her to feel the wooden floor trail his motions in the contrasting sereness of Earth
“I mean,” Juyeon takes one hand on the floor and leans onto it.
“Say, you promise to people to put in their name and someone they like, that they’ll fall in love, in exchange you get money?”
To deflect from the thin bridge created between them, Y/n returns to the hemline. Where the washed out fabric turns sparse, and because of the warm light from, the outline of her legs filters through the fabrication. The spot beside him becomes desolate as he takes his hand back to his own warmth, to rest with the other in the curve of his lap.
“Maybe…” She answers without looking.
Juyeon shifts his legs, he falls into a criss-cross position, “I mean, magic is profitable, people seem to like it.” He looks behind himself to point at Eric on the other bed, but stutters as his silhouette has fallen between the blue patterns, only his feet visible at the edge.
“I-I see high school students with magic stones all the time.”
Y/n smiles again. To bring her legs up from the floor and embrace them with her arms as she leans into the gap created by colliding knees.
“It is one of the first rules as a god to not interfere with human life for personal gain.” She pauses, “I probably shouldn’t.”
It turns silent once again, or, silence aside from the snoring coming from the bed in the corner. Then of course, a city is never fully asleep. He scratches his nape and diverts his vision to the dishwasher in the kitchen, “I’m sorry, I just feel really bad for the job thing.” His back falls towards the floor gently, but despite delicate, he hits it. As it lingers amid the inner four walls and trails to her end, she smiles and laughs.
“It’s okay,” Y/n nods, “I’ll think about it.”
“Is it true?” One of the girls, in high ponytail, wrapped in red silk band asks.
Y/n nods, pushes the pink box one step closer over the table. She takes up the black marker, holds it out to them. With an encouraging motion of her hand and the calm line of her lips. Before the girl at the center touches hands with Cupid, Eric comes forward.
“You can get a free trial.”
The peaceful features on her face, reminiscent of a spring morning, disappears like it has run one season back. Her head shifts towards him in a second, eyes wide and begs him as to why he just uttered those words. Eric sees them, but looks away, just as calmly as he said that sentence.
“Try for free and if it works, tell the others around the school.” He holds out his hand, “Deal?”
The girl in center alternates intent with the two beside her. The gaze bridging between them must have sent some obsolete signals, Y/n think, cause after, she who has the pen reaches out her hand. Y/n, desperate, tells herself not to tremble when the girl takes a pink note. How the synthetic tip scratches against the dry paper surface, and after a few seconds, the girl lets the note fall into the liminal space seeping light into the box.
Y/n watches in silence as they disappear out the door and follow their back silhouette as far as the windows down the hall let her. Y/n looks at him once again. Eric lifts his eyebrows as her eyes are intensely edged and while her left cheek seems to pout out a bit further than the right.
“It’s business.” He says, “After you actually make them fall in love, the whole school will come rushing in here.”
Y/n tilts her head back. Impatience bound through her veins when she feels as if the sun hasn’t risen another centimeter. Her arms across her chest as she thinks about dirty hostels and forbidden rules.
Eric sighs and one of the backpack straps falls down his shoulder, “Trust me, rumors spread fast in here.”
She nods, accepting the fact that the human beside her knows more than she does.
-
Only one more student came by that morning. They had allegedly built curiosity when a pink flier at the bottom of the stairs, written in bold letters with about four thousand hearts, crinkled when they opened the main entrance. Y/n was rather skeptical of the poster Eric gifted her. The A4 was the cleanest shade of white she had ever laid her eyes on, either way, when he asked why, she didn’t want to admit it was the rough edges of his lettering. Also, that her own wasn’t worth a duck feather pen in fine ink either.
Eric said he needed to go to his next class. Y/n had taken a seat down one of the chairs beside a desk. She shifted her head where the sun struck his face, the warm filter over his complexion, reminded her of gold. He told her to lay low, even go to the cafe two buildings away if teachers control the flier pointing at room 233 .
When she watched his silhouette fade from yellow tones and into shadows of the cold litten building. His back draped in navy fabric disappears behind the same wall as all four other people. As only the ventilation lingers between the dust and even the clock over the door stands frozen in time at 14:17, Y/n sighs and turns her head to the window. Staring worriedly at a point beyond the sky only she can see.
-
How the end of each shoe shatters against the floor as students pass by the windows of each classroom down the corridor. As the teacher neither sits on her own desk or stands before the chalkboard, all fabrics, bags and voices come in clusters, lined up against each corner and wall.
A voice from the right side of the classroom, beside the window, draws his vision to them. At that corner of the room stands a group of four other boys. Eric waves before walking between the desks down the spot underneath the sunlight.
“You’re late.” One indicates.
“I’m always.” Eric laughs and lets the backpack fall off his shoulder.
“But I saw you on the way here, you were with some girl?” The other in the group starts making noises and hitting his shoulder. Eric instead rolls his eyes.
“She needed help, she’s my brother’s age either way.”
The book in his bag comes up in height with Eric’s head, before he swings it against the one beside him. It lands on his chest and the other boys laugh loudly. Though, fades in a second when inpatient footsteps run down the hall and crash though the classroom frame. The entirety of the classroom has turned their heads to the one at the center of the chalkboard. It’s the football captain of the team. His hair stands shiverled, the one collar of his blazer is folded inside. At the same time, while all eyes are on him, he scans the panorama and stops when he sees the group furthest down to the left.
His eyes light up in a way only described in fairytales. The curve of his lips and the breath of relief that go through them as he runs up to the group. The people surrounding that desk make room for him as he comes closer. On one of the chairs sits the girl who put her name in the pink box. Eric can only see the boy’s back but clearly each and every change in her facial features. It feels as if she hasn’t closed her eyes since he came before the desk. They sparkle reflection of his own and he finally speaks.
“I walked past a flower shop yesterday, and I saw this, it reminded me of you so I ran and bought it.” He takes up a silk wrapped bouquet that takes up the entirety of his backpack. A gasp goes through the room, and the girl too, lacks air in her lungs as she hesitantly takes the flowers. She opens her mouth, but nothing comes out.
“I love you, Lynn.”
Whispers of excitement fill the four walls and dares to break through the window. Faintly beside him, Eric makes out that the four behind him start whispering too and laughs.He thinks of the paper down the stairwell and Y/n on the floor above. How he has maybe found God, placed in his mundane daily life.
-
In the tear of afternoon Eric lets his bag levitate over the floor as he waits for the teacher to set the ending breath of her sentence. And the moment she does, Eric takes full step across the sharp edges of each desk and nearly falls over one. Out in the hallway, Eric runs, his figure covers the orange shade seeping through each window as he comes up the stairs, making the poster almost lose touch with frail plastic tape.
At the second floor, he searches each frame that lets him glimpse through the transparency and into the room behind walls. And at the very end, where he left her before the class, her back stands against the bygone rectangle in sun bleached composition. Y/n turns from the school scenery and looks back at him. It could be the novel perspective he has gained that makes him biased, but he wonders if she knew his presence up the stairs before even this dimension let her hear it.
Her features are peacefully drawn against her skin, not a single rule of tension as she questions his presence with vast eyes.
“How did you do it?” Eric walks up closer to her. Y/n smiles and leans further against the window to watch the vague silhouettes and their shadow drawn across the concrete.
“I told you, I’m not human.” She looks at him.
As voices from the entangled hallways underneath their feet reach their ears, Eric wonders if a change in perception will happen, if he lets the minute visor move one step further. Even Y/n’s expression alters. The younger one leans in a bit closer, his pupils seem to search for a fragment of something else, to make sense of her place in home he thought he knew. Y/n herself tense and with immense eyes, takes up her hands.
Like a child taking its first step to explore the vast Earth, Eric reaches his finger out to touch her nose, then her cheek. Later the eyelid, force to close and open it which eventually makes Y/n take a step back and blink about three times in span of one. Y/n laughs slightly as Eric still observes her essence without blinking.
A sharp sound, contrasting to the muted creaks of desks and old walls veiled in delicate old linen. Behind her back, an arrow that balances between the points of two fingers. She looks towards his face, not a single filter thrown over a feature of his astonished expression. Sun reflects onto it as it weighs in her hand, and she closes the space in between them as the arrow comes underneath his chin.
“So you believe me now?” Y/n asks, still smiling.
How his eyes, comparable with the sun as they delights in curiosity. His fingers reach for the arrow, but hesitantly closes in on his chest before he looks up towards her again. Y/n nods gently and takes her hand closer and his fingers finally feel the thin line of the arrow. He takes it gently in two hands. Doesn’t quite force his fingers around it, as if a touch, merely a frequent stronger would tear it.
“Yeah!” He breathes out, “Yeah, I do!”
Y/n opens her mouth to speak once again, but a knock against the frame from the opposite side takes their attention away. Where the sunshine cast itself the clearest, stands another girl and a friend slightly behind. The girl’s hand on the lining, she looks behind her shoulder before back at Y/n.
“I saw your poster, I heard you can make people fall in love.” The girl takes her shoulder bag to her font and reaches for the pocket. Between folding of materials and crinkles of keys, the girl extends her arm with a bill.
“We want to try.”
As the limited day hours come on its last ones in winter, Eric and Y/n look at each other. The younger enthusiastically nods when her eyebrows fall into a state of trouble. Hesitantly, Y/n nods towards him and takes the place behind the desk and slides two pink notes across the surface.
“Of course!”
Winter reeks off the flooring and spreads up her skin. She holds her legs tighter against her body as each bill and silver coin touches the cold floor. With the last gray metal circle in place, she extends her back and scans the paper in thousand folds. Y/n bites her lip with her face down towards her lap, and her back still as a first impression when someone comes through the door.
Thin plastic bindings whisper in the hall. Juyeon takes off his shoes at the door frame, chin directed against Y/n’s back underneath the counter. His fingers don’t find the laces and he takes his eyes off for a second. Eric lies in bed, with his phone and Juyeon sighs quietly before letting the plastic bag up on the square table.
“Eric, you need to do your homework.” Juyeon tilts his head to get even a vague coloration.
“I’ll do it soon.” Eric answers.
To fold down the white synthetic filter, Juyeon looks down at Y/n again.
“Is something wrong?” He asks.
Y/n looks up with vast eyes that fall in usual size once again. She presses a smile between her lips and trails the line between the wood.
“I’m a little worried.” She says, though she quickly breathes again as his hands come off the bag.
“It’s not a lot though, the hostel is just getting more expensive. The money isn’t quite enough yet.” Y/n turns back to the three bills and two coins.
“You can stay here.” Eric’s voice comes from the other end. The two of them look at him, now fully extended over the covers. The sheets drape over his shoulders and legs while the blue light from the screen illuminates his face. She returns in direction and sees Juyeon looking at her with the identical vast eyes as her own. Y/n looks away, she realizes Eric’s complexion isn’t as daunting.
“Can’t she?”
“It’s okay I don’t-” Y/n answers, but Juyeon intervenes.
“No, you can stay.”
Y/n turns to him fully without words, stares at him as he looks away and scratches his neck. It’s still quiet when he remembers the plastic bag left on the table and starts to empty it.
“Are you sure?” Y/n hesitates. At first thought, she doesn’t want to intrude on the line she already feels like bordering. Contrary, she thinks going around the streets would be ruthless. Juyeon nods and she looks over towards Eric.
“You too?”
“Of course, Juyeon’s starting to get on my nerves either way.” He sighs and falls back onto the pillow. The tone itself was nearly bounding on a desire to become three in the house rather than specifically having her settle in.
“Hey?” Juyeon’s hands tangle themselves in the thin synthetic while he tries to get them out. His head leans dramatically to one side while Eric has let the pillows impose around him again.
“I understand that.” Y/n crosses her legs and leans back on her arms, “Don’t worry, Eric, I’ll keep you entertained.”
Juyeon holds a sort of offended expression as she laughs and Eric comes up the fabrics again.
“You’re a high schooler, you just hangout with friends either way.” Juyeon sulks.
“Doesn’t matter, Y/n’s cooler than you.”
“How?” He walks over to Eric’s bed, letting his arms hang low as he stands above the younger and his fringe fall upon.
“She’s literally a god, and you don’t even have a girlfriend.” He moves his hand.
Eric sees from beneath his figure how it forms a gap between Juyeon’s lip, but quickly disappears. As the older has learnt there is no pride left in fighting with the teenager, Juyeon shifts in direction and with the help of his socks, slide defeated against the floor, back to the plastic bag.
-
All three of them folded out two lonesome blankets scattered in the apartment. It lay on the carpet in the center of the two bed’s. Y/n sat down on the blankets to touch the pillow, but Juyeon insisted on her sleeping in his bed. It took some persuasion, but he smiles so sincerely and talks tenderly that no God could replicate. She accepted and sat on the bed edge. Eric gave her a worn down pajama set from years ago.
Juyeon’s eyes follow her figure, walking away as he stands with his hands awkwardly to the sides.
“The shirt is buttoned wrong.” Her vision from the bedroom, back to the kitchen. He stands still, takes one hand to his neck, scratches it gently before letting it fall down to his own shirt. His fingers draw outlines of details of her own and she looks down to see the overlap in fabric, each button forcing the other side higher.
“Oh.” Y/n frees the first button from the fabric, but it stays in between her fingertips as there is no place to secure it. Juyeon takes a cautious step forward. Where his feet land it makes no creaks and the fall off a button is the loudest thing in the room.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Y/n instantly comes to the floor and takes up the missing piece from Eric’s shirt. She looks up to him apologetically with the plastic piece hidden in her palm as she reaches her arm towards him.
“It’s okay.” He takes the button, then walks over to the kitchen counter. Y/n watches how he opens one of the pantries and takes out a transparent pouch with orange highlights.
“I’ll help you.” He smiles, identical as the sunset shine in winter. It casts cold over skin where there’s no button to cohere fabric. Y/n nods and they walk to his bed, sit by the edge. Y/n’s closest to the pillow end and watches how he opens the zipper to take up a thin needle and a roll of white thread. Juyeon sees her attentive eyes on his hands between the motions. The white thread comes through the metal end and he cuts it off with scissors. Juyeon holds his hands in between them, hesitantly reaching for the open fabric. He locks eyes with her again.
“Is it okay that I?” With no more than a timid hand motion, he asks. But Y/n understands. She smiles and straightens her posture, separating the front and hair with her hands.
Juyeon smiles awkwardly with his lips pressed against each other and the opposite ends curl upwards. He takes the folded edge of the fabric delicately between two fingers and leans closer to her chest. When the sharp end filters the backside, his hand brushes against her skin. Juyeon holds his eyes on that spot on the shirt, but really, her warm breath drapes his head in summer mist.
After the button falls in a vertical line with the others, Juyeon lies the needle down. He looks at the two sides of the shirt, shriveled and folded in different heights. Y/n herself, once again looks down her front and follows the line, how the fabric separates from the other side. Halfway through, she buttons again, but Juyeon sees instantly how she’s one level too high.
“I…” His body still in the same place, to attentively listen to the folds in the sheets as to remind himself not to come closer. Juyeon takes his hands onto the end fabric. He coerces together to seal the shadows casted by moonlight onto her skin, their hands brush against each other. The distance between them is incredibly insignificant, in a way that lets her scent intertwine with his own and he hides his face by looking at the hemline.
His head right underneath her chin, his hair smells delicate, of morning in blooming spring. The top of his head reflects the moon and his faint breath damp on her skin.
“And it’s done-”
A sound in greater volume than anything else in the apartment erupts from the other side. Y/n stands up as Eric comes out from the bathroom, his silhouette darker from the warm light coming behind him. Juyeon’s hand diverts back to his own sides. His head slightly tilted up to continue to watch her face and make out the expression above.
Eric walks through the frame, it creaks slightly as he falls down the covers. Y/n looks again where Juyeon observes her with eyes, reminiscent of the cityscape playing outside. It shines across and paints the brown pupil in a cold color. She smiles slightly and takes another step.
“Thank you.” She says gently.
-
When shoes scratch against the hallmat and two voices he has recorded in a secluded part of his brain intertwines, Juyeon leans forward on toes to let a glimpse of their figures reach from the thin wall. He takes a step before the dividing part of the rooms and stares in silence over the rain consumed. Their hair lies slick against their heads and the thin surface of a droplet holds itself like tears underneath their eyes. Soon gathers a darker blemish by the hemline.
Juyeon immediately runs up to them and feels the water spread from the floor up to his socks. To let his hands immerse in cold rain across the coat arms as he forces them to the bathroom. Though, Y/n insists to wait until Eric’s done as the four walls impend onto them as they stand all three before the bathtub with the sink piercing against their backs.
Eric sees his reflection in the bathroom mirror, starts violently shake his hair to let off the residing water running down his head. The two others shouts, arms covering their faces to ensure any warmth left on their skins in the bathroom. Y/n let her vision through the passage created by the coat arms when Eric’s laugh parallel between the high ceiling. She feels his arms collide onto her own as he points at Juyeon. The water divided into pairs runs down his forehead, to after his lips. Fringe has fallen flat onto his eyes as the water weighs heavy and all collects at the neck of his shirt as a dark stain. Y/n too, starts to smile before falling into laughter together with Eric. Juyeon stands as if anchored to the bathroom mat pressing his lips in.
As some minutes in the room pass, they stand three in row with the last person out the hall. Y/n on the floor at the borderline where the bathroom goes to hall, she sits crisscrossed while Eric stands on knees behind her. The coarse fabric of the towel onto her head as Eric treats it like laundry. And at the top of the three stories stands Juyeon, still drenched, more than the others maybe, drying off the excess in Eric’s hair.
All has dried and the used towels together with the raincoats decorate the bathtub wall. Eric walks to the kitchen as Juyeon tells him there’s soup and Y/n even out the flooded ends of the clothing. Turn around to face the mirror and walk out the door, she stands with her feet in touch with Juyeon’s and the separation between their faces, so trivial that one might condense in another's arm.
At once, when her essence affects his own, he takes a step back and lifts his arms. There is no distance left and in an instant the cold sink hits his back and Juyeon lets out an ache. Y/n laughs silently and Juyeon turns from the floor up to her face that reeks of lucent perfection.
“You look like a wet cat.” She laughs gently before reaching down the tub wall. Beside her calf rests an additional towel which she takes and casts over Juyeon’s head.
Like the fringe of his, it ends just above his eyes and the pupils, infinite golden, look through the opening onto her. Juyeon slightly bends his head down and takes his shoulder closer to his own essence. He tries to hold his eyes open, onto her face that is so close for the first time in his life, but as she follows the wet trails, he closes his eyelids and convulses when she touches his skin down the neck. His head falls back and he whines slightly in which Y/n laughs.
“Stop being sensitive, Juyeon.” She teases and her arms come above his shoulder and around his head to reach the hair furthest down. Her upper body closes in on his and where the cold water has fallen and fabrics cling onto his skin, he feels warmth.
“Sorry…” Juyeon says weakly. The spotlights in the ceiling highlight the fragments of rose red around his cheeks. Her existence is so close to his own that he thinks they might merge. Somehow, he curiously opens his eyes to see her still damp hair, reminiscent of early spring. But has to close his eyes over and over.
Three days outside the window have been in constant motion and the three of them are still in that apartment. Though, for each day Y/n has walked with Eric to school, more students turn attention in the early morning as she walks up the stairs to the second floor. As the pink notes come down to the table surface faster and faster, she has this sensation in her stomach. It grows during silence and when Eric’s at class. It turns into vague whispers and overpowers the ventilation in the right upper corner. It has her out the window and searching for the sun, but at the same time, there’s something so fascinating in watching how the students hold onto their friends as they disappear down the stairs.
How lovely it is to come in so close contact with love, she thinks. Each sight has her desperately wishing for another and when she hits the arrows bow in two hearts, she runs to the other side to stand at the window front and watch how the world stops for only a second as they make eye contact for the first time.
Though, as Eric told her. Whispers between the hallways and notes passed between seats. A single motion that sets the butterfly wings in action, spreads winds around the school and she thinks there is only a lone push before someone other than a student comes up the stairs and sees her.
Y/n sits on the carpet in their apartment during friday afternoon. The warm lamp spreads its familiar light. She counts her bills and coins, and surely has started to build a small tower that goes beyond two centimeters over the flooring. Her palms lean to each side and impend above the paper and silver. She coerces it all to a pile where the bended edges are in opposite directions. As all the flat slides lie together in her hand and she takes the paper bag, she feels a weight on her own shoulder. A warmth only created by another existence in this season.
Y/n takes her sight up, onto the only enhanced in the lingering exhaustion of another turn around the world’s axis. At first impression of the scene beside her, she can only see his legs, like delicate lace in the orange light, but as chin touches his silk hair and the scent touches her face. Y/n sees the facial features from upon, the bridge of his nose in between the hair strands.
Juyeon suddenly perk up. To meet eyes from different directions and see the faint shine in the inner corner from opposite perspectives. Y/n doesn’t speak, but her eyes search his own deeply and when nothing in them seems to gift her question, they follow the shadowed lines down his face to his lips.
“I feel cold, Y/n.” The weight of his head becomes heavier.
“I’m not that warm either.” She says gently, still with her hands on the pile.
Whispers of the apartment and breathing from the alive city, details around them become louder. He finally sighs.
“I don’t know what to do…” His voice mirrors the weak body across her side. Juyeon’s eyes follow the dim corners where lamps can’t reach. Behind the table, against the paper thin wall to divide the bedroom, there is no outline of floor patterns or discolorations. The world sort of fades into that corner. Like the rest of the universe on a certain crossing, falls out of our sight.
Onto his empty chest where he thought nothing could ever reach again, a light pressure of palms to fingers, graze by the shirt before the whole palm encapsulates his sole heart. Juyeon slowly lets his eyes off the horizon at the end of the room and leans his head where her shoulder and neck ends. He watches how she scours his chest from above and feels her hand blur into the chest.
“Heartbreak.” She hums softly and lets her hand cease over his heart.
Juyeon still looks up, “You can feel it?”
Y/n nods and turns to his eyes. The paper between her left hand, she lets them down onto the floor and pushes the rest of them to the side. Her free hand takes his head delicately and his weight off her shoulder. Juyeon complies with her tenderness until his head settle between her lap. His heart, moon touched, and slowly her fingers come in between his hair and in gentle motions brushes.
To carefully not let his entire body weight on her physical bindings. Though, with that thought he still closes his eyes and feels the hemline of her midnight shirt brush against his cheek. The lids over his eyes open once again and he, in a careful state of trance, watches the slight knit between her eyebrows. His eyes, immense and illuminated, picks apart the features and tilts his head slightly, making the shirt come up her thigh.
“Is something wrong?” He asks suddenly. Y/n locks eyes with him. Strands fall like rosen vines beside his head.
Y/n turns back to his chest and stares in wonder over that spot underneath her hand.
“It’s still very painful…it’s recent?”
Juyeon lets the night echo along for a moment longer. Her hand in touch with the temperate fabric of his shirt, reaching for the deepest part of his own existence. It stays to be the most audible thing in the room. But somehow, there’s imminent, much greater weight bound between the ceiling and floor. He takes his eyes off her hand and falls back into the crater which her legs create.
“It was a month ago.” He speaks in a same volume as the detailed city spreading from all directions and encompasses them.
“She broke up with me, we had a lot of arguments. But we finally stood outside this apartment, and she told me that I don’t make her happy anymore.” Juyeon breathes in, “That there's no love left to give, its run dried.” His head falls to its side and her calf brushes against his cheek.
How even the pictures from June, where the stone plates hidden in shadow wished to feel like winter as they ran past the piercing sunlight between the green leaves, aches his heart. All the Earth layers pass through him until he ends up at the very last.
“Your heart hurts a lot, Juyeon.” She watches with knitted eyebrows, the invincible piercing feeling beneath her hand, spreads across her palm. She turns her eyes to him. The tension binding her features disappears slowly, cause; of his delicate expression, painted in care. Another passage of silence.
She whispers and tilts her head, “But you’ll be fine.”
“I will?” He says with a low voice and immense eyes.
Y/n closes her eyelids and opens them up again to take apart the faint layer of shine before the pupil. To lean in closer as to see the reflection grow clearer in the curvature.
“I can’t see why?” She tilts her head again before falling back into place, “But in the near future, your heart will heal.”
He’s quiet for a second, “Are you sure?”
Y/n nods and suddenly smiles. How the cold sensation of his sick heart falls into fragments when her fingers run through his strands.
“I’m the love Goddess afterall.”
The past days, the sun has done a heavy weather rotation around Earth in a perfect instant. Though, somewhere between night and day, the three of them realize it's time to evolve their business. Each dust accumulated over years in waiting has permanently varnished her clothes. The constant sequence of students that runs up the stairwell makes whispers in the hallways, rumors about the ‘woman in the abandoned classroom’ makes it out on student social media.
Any moment, a post on one of the internet cafes will rise to the top, Eric told her one evening. Y/n uncomfortably took the sheets higher up her shoulders then, but he told her one could fear the inevitable curiosity towards her, or profit off it. His idea was to force the service out of the dusty school and that all three stand on a meeting point beside the city river. Eric sat beside her in the bed and threw off the covers to stand up. She watched how he took the loose pieces of his nightshirt and elongated them like what she assumed was wings.
“And we’ll have costumes like real sellers do.” He said.
“Will that really work?” She asked him with a skeptical expression, in which Eric jumped back into the bed.
“Promise, back in first year of high school, we needed to sell cookies. My friend had a cookie monster costume on for two weeks straight while we told people to buy outside the mall.”
Y/n’s quiet.
“We sold the most of any in our class.”
That night, Y/n didn’t really tell Eric that as long as the moon shines on Earth, there will be a constant light upon her, trailing her steps along the asphalt. That she has during this time, become a traitor of the heaven’s and time.
But because that night passed too, the three of them stand in the metropolitan mall. A city where everyone lives or wishes to. In the vertical path down to the opposite end of the white structure, they are. Glass windows with electric doors down every path and five floors that hound above them. Despite an seemingly endless amount of space, the marble floor is nearly invincible when shoes run like tidal waves above it.
Y/n stands in trance with her head up to watch the banners come down on them from the highest floor. The golden light doesn’t cast itself like sunset as the artificial studio light leaves no corner hidden. But by a certain tilt of one's head, the heart of the light bulb, a shimmer closer to a star during night, reaches the pupil.
“I know a good store.” Eric says and takes one step forward, “It’s not expensive there either-”
Though Juyeon forces him to reverse as he reaches out his hand. Juyeon turns to see Y/n beside him, gaping at the high ceiling and he gently intertwines his other hand with hers.
“You have your phone on, Eric?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“My ringtone gives me panic attacks, should we go or not?”
“I-”
“We don’t have all day!” Eric takes the lead by stepping into the crowd. Juyeon comes quickly after and naturally forces Y/n to stop staring at mall decorations. Two different entrances later and a desire to desperately rip off every last layer of clothing, the three of them stand in the store cluster which Eric pointed at. The youngest insists deeply on a store with massive red signs across the windows, indicating an illegally low price, meanwhile Juyeon argues back that it’s smarter to get actual costumes from the party-hell-store next door.
Democracy isn’t on Eric’s side since Y/n stands with wide eyes, still with Juyeon’s hand in hers. Clearly she didn’t have much of an opinion as her answer when Eric tried to get her on his side was what the hell is a costume supposed to be? As Eric’s store windows had white tees and colored jeans, Juyeon pointed at a mannequin in hot dog costume.
“They just have stupid stuff there.” Eric complains as they walk into the party store.
“You don’t have to choose the hot dog costume.” Juyeon answers.
They reiterate the plan and pass the paper plates and party hats down the clothing aisle. Immediately, Juyeon walks to the corner and Y/n watches as Eric stops before her.
“I want to be a devil.” Eric takes up the rectangular plastic bag. Y/n leans over and sees the model in an awkwardly cut suit, pants with way too tight seams that ends above the ankles, and, the cherry on top, a dejecting pair of plastic vibrant red devil horns.
“No one goes to the devil for love advice.” Y/n complains and continues down the aisle. At the furthest end of the costume section, Juyeon stands between the plastic bags. He holds two different ones, the right one he lifts up so that the spotlight in the ceiling shines atrociously on it.
For every step she expects to see the awareness in his face as he looks to her side. But instead, he stands with a slight pout while still holding the plastic bag in front of his face. Y/n smiles as she’s a little less than a meter away. To lean on her toes to reach over, catch a glimpse of the front model.
“Is this how I’m supposed to look?” Y/n tilts her head as she looks at the woman on the front wrapping of the fabrics. Synthetic wings falling off the back with an even cheaper shine over the arrow and bow. The little white dress is dull, though short as the hem ends mid thigh.
“No, you’re prettier." His answer comes close at the end of her own sentence. His eyes aren’t on hers when he says it, he too looks at the model picture of the packaging. Y/n turns to look at him when his face is still in usual saturation and pout visible.
“Really?” Y/n tilts her head and can’t help but break into a smile. Juyeon looks up and views intertwine. That rose blush stains his skin once again and he scratches the back of his hair profusely. He takes a step back, laying his hands on her shoulders from behind. To turn her head to still watch him, he disappears from her sight and instead, feels a warm weight on her back. The waves of his voice perceive that spot beneath her hair when he speaks.
“Go and try it on.” His voice is in faint volume as he starts pushing her shoulders gently.
Y/n laughs, “Okay.”
At the left direction he prod her, reside three high rectangles in row. Y/n opens the one closest to her and walks in. After she forces the curtain to divide, she hears Juyeon’s voice outside, ensued by a familiar whine. Y/n smiles for herself when the metal rings at the edge hit against the railing as Juyeon tries to force Eric in.
At last, the velvet closes, and soon, the adjacent walls uncover. Juyeon stands a meter away, watches how Y/n lifts the fabric over her head and the hem takes some of her hair with it. Her feet stay serene, looking down her front while her fingers compress the chemical fibers.
“I think it’s too big.” She looks up at him. Arms fall to its sides together with the flat line dress. Juyeon’s lips form to speak, but precisely, it intersects with Eric who extracts the curtain and walks out. The shirt reaches down his wrists and radiates an agonizing white shade, the pants, in same shade, drape over his legs. Lastly, the tiny wings and plastic bow in his hand. The halo in his hair sits tilted, folded at the center, beaming in the store light over his displeasure.
Juyeon and Y/n are silent at the closing seconds of his entrance. But the visor alternate another minute and the two burst out laughing at the same time. Their silhouettes bend to the floor and cover their laughter with right hands. And if the knit between Eric’s eyebrows couldn’t get tighter, even his lips press harder.
“But you look really cute, Eric.” Y/n coos and walks to him. The side of her palm perceives the veil over his shoulder. He looks down towards her, causes the halo to shake and Y/n laughs again.
“I’m serious!” She takes the other hand, where she too has a bow, on his opposite shoulder. Eric lets the thin line on his lips loosen a little as Y/n assures him. Though he hears a giggle a meter away, shift to see Juyeon’s phone in their direction.
“Hey!” The younger runs over to Juyeon who lifts the phone to the ceiling. The little plastic halo above his head flutters as he stands on tip toes while reaching for the screen.
“No, it’s so good!” Juyeon still laughs and takes the phone behind his back. Eric is left with that same complexion of oddenment on his features as the two laughs.
“I think it looks good.” Juyeon says after. He points at the ill fitting dress on Y/n but acknowledges Eric got the right size. He says they should go to Eric’s store and get a better white dress.
“Aren’t you gonna dress up?” Eric throws at Juyeon.
“You should too.” Y/n complains and points at him with the bow, “We look like idiots, you need to look like one too.”
Juyeon glance the room and takes a step back, “But I didn't find any in my size.” He affirms with high arms.
“Bullshit, just be an ancient myth man.” Eric, deadpans.
“There’s no myth man costume.” Juyeon says confused.
“Then we make one.”
-
“Isn’t this one lovely?”
Juyeon looks up and sees Y/n between two racks of aisles. In her hands, a white baby blue dress that she puts against her front as if wearing it. The lace excess attached to the skirt and half length sleeves imitate her own twirls.
The coloration with his hands falls to the sides as she looks up towards him. Her eyes fixated on him after her question. Juyeon opens his mouth, but takes a breath and his free hands come up the back of his neck. Scratching lightly as he looks towards another aisle with transparent bags. Groups of young girls run past them and he shakes his head, therefore, the fringe comes before his eyes, making his pupils hide in between shadows of his strands.
“It’s really pretty.” He says shyly and smiles, takes a step closer and forces his chin up a bit higher, “You’re really pretty in it.”
Y/n takes her palm towards the stomach of the dress and looks down, “You’re honest?” She laughs.
The hand quickly falls off his skin and top the side of his thigh. The pink coloration saturated into his cheeks are still in full view, but his lips turn pressed and downward. Just as his eyes grow wider and he eagerly nods his head. The strands of his hair follow those precisions and he continues to speak while it falls further.
“You are.” He repeats in a clear tone which makes her laugh again.
“Okay, then, I believe you.”
-
Once the afternoon stood on its last hours, all three had found their costumes. Y/n in a white dress that accumulates at the writs where it tights into a ribbon before the remaining fabric folds out like a flower. It sat under the paper poster for the early spring collection. Juyeon got a shirt in a similar edition. The details on both sort of seamlessly intertwine. When taking a quick look in the passing window stores, the two seem to share sensibility. And then of course, Eric as a baby cupid.
Juyeon’s hair was in need of a change since the shirt alone couldn’t disclose the intentions behind. He suggested a lovely braid to form around his head, though, neither of the three knew how to braid. Because of that, they sat forty five additional minutes at the mall beside different baby strollers. Juyeon had searched up a braid tutorial, held it before his face, Beside him sat Y/n on her knees and constantly switched from looking at his hair and screen. The result was of partial essence from the original, and with a yellow bouquet they bought before walking, Juyeon looks rather like a flower boy at a wedding than fantastical character.
At the center of a meeting platform before the river, they stand in line. The yellow flowers together with the synthetic wings on their backs are taken by the wind. Youth in close knitted groups and couples walking hand in hand pass by the metal railing and the bridge connecting to the opposite side. All three have a box of their own and with a breath or two, they separate from the mit and walk over the frozen concrete paving in late afternoon.
As the unknown always has people afraid, not many notes land in the bottom of their boxes. But as the sun comes down the sky and closes in on the rooftops, people their age become intrigued by the enchantment and put their name together with a bill. As such, pictures of plastic wings spread around corners of the internet with rumors about the magic.
-
As the person before her walks to the left, Y/n waves gently as their figure becomes another someone in the crowd. With no close frame in sight, the sun that edges on the horizon, spreads its pink coloration above her vision. Her hand holds the box as a wind comes from the right direction of the city and intertwines itself into her hair. The white fabric of the sheer skirt touches against her skin and the plastic wings lean towards the bridge. And as if the wind became gifted, to affect the significance, a clear pathway towards the edge of the river opens up.
How both the start and end of a bridge captures in a total frame. The dividing sides of the city in opposite parts of her rectangular vision. Y/n takes a breath and lets the setting sun in final clear sky complete the hues on her face.
When her eyes arrange the disposition and total focus settles onto a silhouette. Y/n’s grip around the box falters and the incoming wind might take the rest of her essence with it this time. The cheap chiffon fabrics wrapped around his body shines of white, just as his close orbit. Though the pigment, only parts of his features stand in highlight as the rest in shadow from the rosy hue above.
Y/n moves her head suddenly, forcing the loose strands before her eyes to fall towards the side profile. Slowly she takes a step down the clear path, follows the lines in between frozen cracks to where he leans over the railing. Juyeon has his eyes set on a vague point on the horizon. When she, too, stands beside him, she follows the imaginative line of his pupil and fails to make out the disoriented city lines.
Y/n turns to him, “I haven’t asked you yet.”
Juyeon turns to her with vast eyes.
“If you want to write a name.” She holds the pink cardboard box out for him. Her hand shortens distance, but there is still a void to be completed. He stands silent. Let each passing conversation fill that space up until it becomes vague from another direction. The motions in the river, it comes up against the stone they stand on before changing tide. Juyeon looks at Y/n and smiles like he always does as he shakes his head gently.
She tilts her head. Curiously wander to the pupil of his eye and search for entrance into his mind, but there’s nothing to open. With his aching heart underneath his throat, Y/n expected a certain answer from him, an answer most humans would give. She smiles as wonder entrances her mind when thinking about his own.
“Okay.” Y/n answers in her usual tone. Take the box back to her own side and like Juyeon, let a part of her weight lean against the metal railing.
A couple walks them by, hand in hand towards the other bridge in far sight. Juyeon follows them until the color of their shirts fades in between the others. His eyes fall back on Y/n’s frame. Her profile towards the reflection in the water and he contemplates in silence before asking.
“What happens to all the names people write down?”
Y/n faces him as the question spreads into all directions over the river surface, and when it maybe reaches the opposite end, Y/n stops to tilt her head.
“They fall in love…or what do you mean?” She knits her eyebrows.
Juyeon shakes his head and smiles. Watch the scenery behind him where the buildings soar above the open platform and lovers walk hand in hand. Eric sits on a bench, further away, with a stranger probably his own age by the parallel complexion.
“Do they just fall in love forever or…” to attentively consider details of expressions and body language, his own skin brushes against the cold railing.
“No, they don’t” Y/n shakes her head.
“Most will probably fall out of love in a week or so…” The curves of her lips have become amicable, he remarks, when Y/n looks at him.
“Maybe one or two couples go on for some months.”
Juyeon tilts his head, arm over the railing and the weight of his body advances onto it. The flicker between the colors of his eyes reaches for another one, just like it. But at the edge of finding it, she turns her chin down where waves return from the stone, and another wind pulls fabrication before their sight.
“Why?” He asks curiously.
Y/n purses her lips in. Her essence stands on physical space but the fragments of thoughts, collecting her being, solely wanders somewhere else.
“I don’t know why.” The tone is disheartening, “I wish I knew too.”
“You don’t?” he says surprised, “You’re the love God.”
“Yeah,” She smiles, “but I’m not good at being one.”
“Is that’s why you’re here?” He asks gently after silence.
Y/n’s quiet and completely still for a moment before nodding without giving him a glance.
“People are getting heartbroken all the time and aren’t finding love, and I can’t figure out why.” She pauses, “Mother’s angry at me.” Y/n lets her chin fall onto the railing and she leans over the cold metal and watches the sun go behind the horizon.
“I don’t want to live like that, especially since I can’t even do the only thing I was created for.”
Another silent passage in time, she speaks again.
“And your breakup last month was probably also because of me.” She looks at him with a smile but eyes of starshine, on the edge of its own death, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“It is.”
“There’s eight billion people, that’s a lot to put on one person.”
She looks at him, still leaning on the railing.
“I mean, one being.” He corrects.
Y/n smiles again in which he too does.
“You know, for humans you’re never perfect at first try.” He looks out over the river, “For all the professionals, more than talent, they train over and over again.” She looks at him and he stutters while scratching his neck.
“What I’m trying to say is,” He squints, “Practice makes perfect, you’ve never experienced human life until now, of course it’s confusing.” He pauses and takes a step closer. The view of him comes higher up.
“If you want, I can help you.” Another wind passes, while the same rose color against the sky transmits over to his cheeks.
“Teach you what human love is like,” When she still isn’t speaking he takes a irregular breath, “I’ve had two girlfriends before, a lot of dates, I’m very experienced so you don’t have to-”
“Okay, I want you to teach me.” Y/n laughs. He closes his mouth once he realizes the diffuse pace of wording. Though, smiles as her clothes strive free with the next breeze. Juyeon’s relieved as Y/n has visibly fallen interested in a shape at the other end. Only in need of his voice to affirm the color, not his red stained warm cheeks.
To a change of a digit by the “Sunday '' written on the phone. Y/n opens her eyes to see morning filtrate through the curtains. Her hands come behind her posture to force herself off the layers of cloth. At Eric’s bed at the other end of the same corner, he lies spread out in total absence. His face is buried within the pillow and his right leg has fallen off the bed and touches the floor.
Without any sort of considerable intentions, Y/n looks down beside the bed. The thin mattress is still out with an imprint among the creases of the sheet. Despite being devoid of any life, a trail of essence aviates above it. The disarray of plates stacking comes from the open kitchen. Y/n looks towards the window and sees Juyeon roaming through the shelves.
She herself lets the covers come off her body and accumulate beneath the pillows. With each one of her steps, a creak course through the flooring. With the ceasing distance in intervention, Juyeon feels the faint change on the spot he stands on when her presence comes closer. He looks away from the shelf and sees Y/n, her right hand is up before her eye and he smiles like he always does to her.
“Good morning, Y/n.”
“Good morning,” She answers in a quiet tone.
“Did you sleep well, Angel?” He asks while he lets his head fall down to the counter as he groups in spoons and chopsticks. Y/n blinks a few times and stares at his side profile as he opens the cabinet beneath.
“Angel?” She tilts her head and Juyeon looks back at her.
“Yeah, Angel?”“I always used Love, but I think you fit Angel better.”
“Oh, okay.” She tilts her head still and squints her eyes at his frame. He seems to detail that there’s something still left to be said, so he looks back at her again.
“Am I supposed to call you something too or?”
She asks him with genuine perplexity and he remembers again, that she’s not human. He smiles. How magical, he thinks, that someone that bears on enchantment and bliss to change his state of life in seconds, stands before him. Juyeon has never really believed in gods, even now he isn’t particularly drawn to religion, but Y/n in her otherworldly enchantment but relatable demeanor seems to come beyond any sort of devotion.
“Only if you want. It’s called pet names, it's common between couples.”
Her eyes widen, “People see each other as pets? Like those dogs they’re out walking?” Y/n gestures with her hand onto the floor. The new information is rather unsettling, how much of the human love she didn’t understand, she thinks.
Juyeon laughs and comes closer to her, “No.” He takes his hands onto her shoulders while her eyes are still appalled.
“Or some couple out there probably. "But not most.”
“Why pet names?”
He thinks, “I don’t know, it’s cute? Pets are cute, so you’re cute.”
“Okay.” Y/n seem to only half accept his explanation.
“Can I still just call you Juyeon?” She asks.
“You can,” He pouts, “Though, no one has ever given me a pet name.”
She smiles, “No one?”
“I always ask them to give me one, but they don’t.” He sulks.
“I like your name, it’s pretty. I think it fits you.”
The picture before her, as she’s still in his hands. The sprout from which his hair blossoms, faces her, but in the ending sequence of her sentence, his face comes up in height with hers. The sulk, seized by the floor. He smiles again in which she tilts her head.
“You’re really simple, Juyeon.” She laughs and takes a step back. By the nature of the motion, his hands fall off her shoulders. Juyeon stands in vertical posture once again and concentrates on the ends of his lips, so as to not pout again.
“I’m not.” He says quietly. Before he turns his head back to the counter, though, Y/n catches the remote sulk formed underneath his nose.
Sometimes through the hits against the counter surface and pans, they hear Eric turn sideways and wrap his body in another round of fabrics. She looks from the cutting board to the beds and Juyeon notices. He tells her that there is no use in low volume, that the entire building could start shaking and his consciousness would not move an inch closer to its physical state.
As he stands beside her and goes between the stove and cutting board to show her how to cut the vegetables. The broth in the pot simmers, damp heat comes up in his face and spreads onto the metal spoon as he brings it down. Juyeon tastes the broth first before taking it down a second time. He holds his free hand underneath the spoon and turns to Y/n’s. Her hair has fallen before that side of her face. Only when those strands come to the back of her ear, she looks away from the white plastic and towards Juyeon.
Being conditioned to fall back, Y/n leans away from his close hands. Sees a single steam grow like rosen stems during spring, Juyeon comes closer to the spoon and blows on it. Y/n’s eyes are small when they intertwine with his own.
“Try it.” He says in his sweet voice.
“Can’t I just…” The free hand on her other side hesitantly reaches for the spoon.
“I’ll feed you.”
Her face turns to the left as if to gesture him a no, but when he looks at her with those pearl glance eyes. Y/n sighs and leans forward. His hand comes under her chin and he helps her by tilting the spoon a little. Y/n’s own hand comes up to Juyeon’s who holds it before she returns to her own place.
“It’s good.”
-
Eric left the cramped apartment soon after eating. The sun’s out the entirety of the weekend and his friends had sent messages all night to meet on Sunday. Y/n went to bed again after eating, lying on the outer side and with the sheets at the very end of the bed. She stares up at the ceiling, watches hidden shadows in patterns. Though, steps on the floor cross onto the carpet and soon after, she feels the weight on the mattress shift. Y/n turns to look at the change, and when her cheek falls into the pillow, Juyeon’s eyes are there to meet.
Y/n sits up and takes one of her legs off the height, but Juyeon takes her arm.
“Where are you going?”
“I thought you wanted to lie here?”
“No, I wanted to be here because you were.”
“Why?”
“It’s comfortable.” He smiles, “Couples do it all the time.”
“Are you serious, or are you just using that as an excuse because I let you teach me about human romance?” She squints his eyes at him, in which Juyeon forces his head from the mattress and reaches his hand out for her upper arm. He shakes his head while laughing quietly, reiterating that he speaks truth. Y/n can’t keep the stale expression when he smiles so deeply and the pillow pushes his hair closer to his face. Eventually she lets his arm pull her down fully again.
“Do people just lie like this?” Her hands rests over her stomach where the ruffles of the shirt accumulate. A tilt of her head in a direction closer to his existence, but nowhere in full sight does she get a glimpse of even a hair strand, just the ceiling in sunlight from the curtains.
“Sometimes.” Juyeon answers. He turns his head fully and so does Y/n. Their chin rests on the light blue stripes, folded where the weight are.
“Sometimes it’s very comforting doing nothing with the one you love.”
“Why?”
Juyeon takes his hands in between the pillow and his chin, “Love needs no words.” His voice is gentle, passing her ears like the faint brush of the new washed sheets against her upper calf. A vague nod comes from her side as they still look at each other.
Juyeon suddenly breathes a little stronger, “But other times we do this.”
Y/n doesn’t get to high her eyebrows or part her lips. The hands underneath his chin forces his weight off the pillow and Y/n feels him lean towards her side. He sits up fully and in the same duration from her eyelid closing and opening, Juyeon has taken his hands down her arms and neck, fervently tickling her.
The expression of confusion painted by her features turns to a desperate smile as she tries to escape his attack. To kick her leg onto the sheets beneath her and shout Juyeon’s name as his laugh becomes louder for every centimeter the fabric falls down the bed. To not let her escape, Juyeon unconsciously sets his knee on the other side of her body. Her figure stays in between his own frame as she falls deeper down the pillow.
“Juyeon, stop, I’m serious!” Y/n laughs in panic.
Eventually his hands come to rest beside her upper arms and the laughter turns to heavy breathing. Juyeon faces from above, still smiling, as Y/n lies with the side of her face against the pillow. That until she stares at him, while fully hidden between his own complexion. Each of her breaths comes to him like the green leaves during spring. Just as the incident, the rose color of flowers in small sprouts bloom on the side of his face. Y/n looks down from his eyes, just one centimeter in distance to see the saturation. She smiles again.
“You’re always so red, Juyeon.”
Juyeon takes his head further against his chest to hide it, but there is no use. She laughs lightly as his hair falls before his eyes and he is forced to shake his head when he comes back up. They look in silence at each other's features. Mere sunlight comes in between the thin curtains and cats itself over the shadows. Dust from the sheets cease between the space and Juyeon leans in a bit closer. The shine in her pupil comes all the higher in her coloration as his lips are above hers.
“I’m sorry.” He speaks gently.
Y/n laughs again and shakes her head. Seconds cruelly pass them where they lay enchanted in white-blue sheets. The sounds of folding fabric beside her ears, without visual frame she imagines a butterfly at the breaking of dusk, to spread its wings before full sun. But truly, it’s purely, without decorations, Juyeon’s hands beside her body that flutter at the closing distance between them.
He who always leaves a space in between, Juyeon lets his head fall closer to hers. The pace is incredibly cruel, but so sympathetical, as he stops where they can see each other’s flaws and their breath dampens the other's lips. Time stands so pianfully still when he waits for Y/n to say or do anything. He looks into her eyes, searches for something, but she tries to use the parted distance between her lips but nothing comes out.
There’s a sort of apprehension somewhere between all of her physical essence. But it dies with every second. In the dilemma playing faintly before her eyes, in the background she sees Juyeon’s eyes come further away from hers. The sensation of guilt and fear were on the verge of death, and fall flat line in an instant. As to desperately not make him disappear, Y/n takes her hands up from her sides. Juyeon gasps quietly when gently holding his face.
And at last, when she takes him back to her, Juyeon lets his weight on his hands shift to his right knee as their lips collide. Y/n falls a centimeter further into the stripes of the pillow case. It creases at the edges. The pattern changes in structure when Juyeon brings his knee up a bit further. In a boundless room devoid of sounds, the kiss lingers between the four walls.
As Juyeon gently takes his tongue out for hers, Y/n trace the lines of his features up to his hair. Their mouths are just a little open when she intertwines her hand through his strands. The tips of his fingers scratch against the surface. Through the slight space in between their lips, Juyeon whines. It trails through her clothing and hearten her hand to force the strands tighter around her skin to hear him again.
And as they encourage the other to fall in closer, the room that had been detached from space and time comes back. The door echoes through the apartment and folds of clothing come after. Before any footsteps close into the kitchen, Y/n’s hands fall back to the mattress and Juyeon throws himself off his arms and lands on his previous place. When Eric comes into the kitchen and lets his eyes span over the details he sees everyday, he stops at their bed. Arms completely down their sides and face up against the ceiling. Eric knits his eyebrows.
“Are you trying to teach Y/n magic tricks?” Eric asks.
Juyeon lifts his head from the pillow to look at him.
“Don’t even try, she’s literally immortal.” Eric goes to the sink and takes a cup.
“I didn’t even-” Juyeon defends.
“I’m not immortal?” Y/n cuts Juyeon off by lifting up her head in the same manner to look at Eric. He’s already on his second glass of water.
“You know what I mean, mythical creature and the unfunniest person alive.” Eric smiles.
“I think I’m funny.” Juyeon defends and turns his head to look at Y/n.
“I’m funny?”
Y/n laughs a little as he looks at her with vast eyes, “When you try not to; yes.”
He pouts and turns the other way, in which Y/n laughs fully. To turn her own silhouette and let her free hand reach out for his shoulder.
-
Y/n takes her legs off the mattress. It creaks when she stands fully on the carpet and it faintly lingers when she walks out the kitchen and further down the hallway. Juyeon, who lies beside her, compels to feet and without any obligatory commands, starts walking after. Y/n looks behind her once to see him trail the invincible steps along her. She takes the bathroom handle and looks at him again. He stands close to the opposite wall, right eye wearied. And the scene, in static vision for another passage, until Y/n tilts her head and asks him;
“Are you coming with me in or?”
Even with a question fully spoken in between the takes, Juyeon looks at her with the expression he always has. But like February into March in reversion, his eyes widen and he takes a step back. Juyeon says something Y/n can’t decide if it were comprehensible words. When in no trance, he disappears from the hall, out the kitchen and back onto the bed. She knits her eyebrows while staring at the serene flooring before she closes the bathroom door.
Eric sits in his bed with his phone, but tears his eyes off the screen when Juyeon comes back after only a minute. The older pays no intention of looking to the side and Eric sees him shaking his head before falling onto the mattress. The short video clip on his phone rewinds again as he smiles for himself.
“I never knew you would be such an attention seeker when your girlfriend left.” Eric looks towards Juyeon. He has his arms crossed over his chest while in his own corner of the world.
“I’m not.” Juyeon protests.
Eric snorts which makes Juyeon look at him, “Yeah, and I’m Jacob Elordi.”
The younger scrolls to the next short clip before talking again, “Come on, you can’t even be two meters away from her. I see how your arm twitches of starvation from her just being in the bathroom.”
Juyeon takes his hands from his chest, letting them spread out before the background, “They’re not at all.”
He takes the phone in his other hand, rises so that the sheets fall off his upper body. Eric lifts the pillow higher before he falls down to feathers again and watches the blue light radiate off his screen.
“Either way, I support your future marriage with Y/n, I could even be the flower boy.”
“We’re-I-” He stutters and looks at Eric who snickers at the screen, “I just think she’s nice.”
Eric refrains from throwing more comments across the room. Instead continues to mindlessly consume the massive subtitles on screen. Soon after when the bathroom door opens, the audio from Eric’s phone has rewinded across twenty times and Juyeon walks up to his edge. Eric lies with eyes closed and lips slightly apart while his hand with the device hangs off the bed. Juyeon pushes the turn off button and it becomes quiet in the apartment.
As Y/n walks across the kitchen area, Juyeon straightens his posture. A sudden burn comes between his throat as he looks down. The fingers of his right hand touch the spot that grows with itch. The sensation makes him want to further reach his hand through the skin and scratch what bothers. He coughs when Y/n comes to the line crossing the kitchen and bedroom.
“You’re okay, Juyeon?”
Juyeon turns from the corner where Eric lies and sees Y/n with her head tilted. He coughs again before facing her fully.
“Yeah, I must catched a cold or something.” He reassures.
That afternoon, evening boundary, pink encloses orange in softly curved patterns. How the sunset at the very peak of its livelihood, soon will bleach from the celestial and leave nothing but those stars holding hands in constellations to remind us that it was there. And as it shines over the edge of the river, hangs lowly over the open square, Y/n walks over to Eric sitting alone on one of the seats at the center of the open space. A passing wind intertwines like ribbons through their hair, braid them in irregular patterns before letting go. Eric feels the essence of another identity under the collapsing sun enter his field.
He looks beside his left shoulder and sees Y/n smiling, though, it might just be the sunset, but there’s a whimsical bearing to her expression in plastic wings.
“I realized you haven’t written a name.” He turns focus from her eyes down to the pink box as she holds it close to him.
“You don’t have anyone you like?” She asks.
Eric’s quiet for a second, but ultimately shakes his head. Her silhouette stands in contrast to the setting sun. Each shine streak runs into the river and reflects like a horizontal mirror. The outline of her shoulders divides the flicker, causing him to squint. Y/n herself let the box fall onto her thighs. When another wind comes, a short lived reflection on his hair passes by. Cupid tilts her head and observes his features. A visible lack of emotion and eyes on a dead tree. Another group of people walk down the river and Y/n smiles again.
“Seems like it.” She says.
Eric suddenly asks, “Can you write down someone else’s name? Two people you want to be together?”
She looks at the box then back at him, “Usually no, but I’ve already interfered in enough lives.” Y/n takes up the pen and pink paper, “Try.”
Eric takes the pastel note and presses the synthetic end on his palm. When he gifts it to her, he sees her smile grow wider as she reads it. Eric’s lips too, like a wildflower during the incoming flourish season, grow as she laughs a little. On the piece of paper stands two names, Y/n and Lee Juyeon. She let it descend down the thin opening of the box. While still looking down at the space created by cardboard, she speaks.
“That won’t work, though.” Y/n speaks gently.
Eric tilts his head suddenly, keeping his hands at the edge of the bench.
“Why?”
“I’m not human, right?” She still smiles, but Eric’s has withered.
“I don’t understand, gods and humans can’t be together?”
Y/n shakes her head, “No” She shifts in her place, “It’s just, the rules don't work as they normally do, it might end up bad.”
“Like what?”
“Just bad, not fun…it’s not important.” Y/n takes her hand before her face, standing up and locks eyes.
“Juyeon will be fine.”
For days closest to present, that itch at the very bottom of his throat has become stronger. Each night he touches the spot where it hurts the most, and his fingers trails higher for every night. The other day Juyeon surrendered and went to the pharmacy. He took coughing medicine, but at last he stands before the hand sink, throwing lilac flower petals. The first time, he stood perplexed and backed away until his calf hit the tub.
At the same time, he thinks about what Eric said to him, that day of the kiss. While the hours pass them by he always finds himself having music on or cleaning dishes, searching for job applications. Cause, when neither of them are with him, and there is little to no sound to surround him, those scenes play before him.
It was night and he turned to the other side of the floor. He searched coughing flower petals. In immediate blue links, informative paragraphs describe the cases of physical effects of a yearning heart. The pictures showed strangers with flowers in shades scattered over white sinks. His heart picked up pace before he shut off his phone and forced his eyes closed. He has the love goddess beside him to lead him, but it only aches to think that he stands alone at the edge of the bridge, longing for the other end when it doesn’t reciprocate. At midnight, he’s forced to accept his heart's admiration for Y/n. He refuses to let the knife remove the love out of his body, instead, begs in moonlight for fate to spare them.
-
There’s a gentle touch over his head. It reverses before it comes back. A sharp point between his hair strands and further down where his neck starts. As his eyes are still closed and mind in a different dimension, he doesn’t register how he slowly starts to lean towards the touch every time it disappears. Eventually, the moonlight cast at the other wall becomes apparent and he sees Eric’s silhouette beneath it. It shines of city lights in the furthest window above the kitchen.
Behind him, he hears soft creases of fabric lines. It comes from the material in his own bed, but his arms are at the front side. There’s a faint opening between his eyelids and he feels the touch linger down his cheek until it trails to his chin. It tickles when it gently outlines his nose. Once Juyeon opens his eyes fully, he tries to look up. On that side of him, a startled motion comes between the soft folds and the warmth on his face stills.
All shadows leisurely adjust and he makes out the room. But in that space, left of his mattress and frame of carpet sits Y/n. He recognizes her features in turned axis shimmer and traces her upper arm down to her hand on his face. She still caresses his cheek when they look at each other. When Juyeon takes his hands to either side and forces himself up, the fabric sounds violent as a shadow covers the cast on the wall. He watches how she quickly makes her way out the kitchen.
He can’t describe why, when his mind is half asleep and his body cold of the thin fabrics. Though, he does fully take off from the mattress and follows her. He sees her figure disappear through the bathroom door and when she stands to see her reflection in the mirror, Juyeon leans his hand on the edge of the door. Y/n looks at him when he walks in. There’s a meter in between them, and she tries to keep the same distance as he closes the door gently and walks forward.
At some point, her back hits the cold wall and Juyeon, with some space still separating them, reaches for her left hand off her side. Y/n’s quiet when he brings it to the blossom of his head. He leans down so that she subtly makes out the shadows beneath his fringe. Juyeon gently ushers her hand to mirror those motions from a minute ago. Where the whole cityscape stands in silence, the clearest thing spoken through the barrier is the sigh of relief Juyeon does when her hand reaches his neck.
He lets his knee rest where the divide forms between her own. How his soft breaths affect her own person. Cause eventually Juyeon separates his hand from hers as she on her own starts to touch his hair. For each caress along the silk, her palm continues deeper onto his neck. At last, her fingers reach where the collar of his shirt starts. To be touched even faintly in a place unaffected for so long, he whines. His head that faces the floor lands underneath her chin. The cheap shampoo reaches her nose and his breath dampens the spot above her collar.
The ends of his hair scratches against her skin and, by consequence, her other hand comes to the center where his shoulder and neck meet.
With the door closed, there’s no light source from any of the quiet corners. But for each breath they both take, he becomes all clearer. His face is buried underneath her while his body leans as close. The contrast of the painfully cold wall and the heat spreading from his essence. It’s so deeply attractive in her eyes, how he folds when she reaches her fingers a step further down his shirt. The quiet whimpers get muted in her neck. She desperately wants to hear it again, the hand from his shoulder and outlines his neck up to his chin where she lets her thumb caress the skin before coming back down to the shoulder.
“Y/n, fuck.” He moans cruelly onto her skin. It creates some free room between her hand and his shoulder when he falls down to his knees. The warmth that has accumulated above her chest, turns instant cold when there is no barrier before the grading temperature.
Her eyes naturally follow his own which are locked on the edge of her sleeping wear. Where the muted pattern convulse into each other and a harsh line before her own skin. Juyeon timidly takes his fingers onto that edge. All warmth in his body rushes to the inner parts, there is nothing but cold on his fingertips when they for a moment touch beneath her stomach. Juyeon looks up, the color in his eyes comes through the fringe and his hand flexes when holding onto her sleeping wear.
“I want to-can I?” He stutters profusely while looking into her eyes. It’s not enough light for the pigment on his upper face to reflect back into Y/n’s own vision. He looks away and faces the wall of the bathtub.
Y/n’s own chest has started to pick up pace while a limited gap between her lips forms to afford it. The lid on her eyes closes and opens profusely as he refuses to state the expression on his face. The inpatient motions with the urge to not look at her, she desperately wants him to say it when her mind runs to try to comprehend it.
“Sorry, Juyeon, I really don’t understand.”
Her hand still in laces with his own essence starts to gently advance across the back of his head again. He sighs when she reaches a sensitive spot down his neck and brings his head back. It affects her mind deeply so that her own physical state falls on the wall behind her and shifts her right leg.
“Please, I want to make you feel good.” He holds his head high to maintain the contact. The fabric of her shorts comes tighter around her waist when he pulls it again.
“I want to lick your…” He whispers to her, in a volume equal to the sounds coming from her hands in his hair. Y/n nearly reaches down to mute his words, but the desire to shift her leg again blinds those thoughts and she nods.
“I want you too, Juyeon.”
Her words seem to have freed the chain off him and gently lets the two layers of fabric touch her thighs down to her calves. Juyeon takes his own hand up her waist and the other around her left leg. To carefully, as if made out of velvet he forces her up onto his shoulder. Y/n tears her eyes away from him and falls head against the cold hard wall when goes in between her thighs. The soft changes in direction from his tongue and the careful advances as he watches her reactions from below.
The hand on his hair becomes tighter when the sensation goes inside her two walls for even a second. There’s constant shame as she lets him completely mend the soar spots with a part of his existence. She can’t tell if Juyeon feels it too, but to never let her eyes be open for more than a second, because when her head falls onto the wall and her eyes stare up the ceiling. An invisible but cruel rain falls onto her from above, a circle of faces from her youth watches how one of their own crumbles before a human.
“Juyeon.”
She strokes his head once again and Juyeon closes his own eyes. Y/n has been forcing her lips shut of fear to hear her own sounds echo in between the walls. But at last, when he grips onto her calf a bit stronger and the end of his hair brushes up against her thighs, a cry of pure bliss comes between her lips while her hips move forward. Juyeon continues with his lips to let the sensation gently fade.
Y/n breathes heavily while still leaning onto the wall. Juyeon comes up from the floor and lies one hand on her shoulder. With eyes closed, reminiscent of weekend morning when her own self is far from the body, lovely gathered in his worn down sheets. How Juyeon solely comes closer to make the pixels of her features clearer and discover the secret appearance, one who is only this close can make out.
Y/n finally opens her eyes and there is barely a distance between them. Juyeon has let go of the space and has his entire front against her own. There’s a firmer impression in contrast to the rest of his body. It pushes onto her lower stomach in timid motions. Her arms embrace herself as she smiles and laughs suddenly.
Juyeon lets out an embarrassed laugh and forces his head under her chin again. A faint ‘no’ escapes, barely audible, which causes her own eyes to look over the line in which his hair grows. And she forces him from her chest just a little. His sight is still in lock with the floor and Y/n laughs again.
“I’ll do it now.”
As she takes his hand, directs to the bathtub and pushes him gently down the cold material. Whatever’s left of the world becomes merely a singular. When the last lights of the cityscape passes through the visual horizon at the end of the universe, Y/n lets herself on top of him fully and takes her hands onto his face while staring in deep adoration with no sense of responsibility.
Truly she feels her heart pick up a pace she never thought was possible when creating friction onto them both with easy advances of her hips, and the back of his head falls against the edge. With no other light visible, a single star burns off in the upper left corner when he opens his right eye to look at her.
Juyeon feels the fabric enclose him painfully underneath her and he moans desperately. To force himself up from the edge, he holds his hands on the sides of the tub and comes precisely under her own lips. Y/n continues to fall back in motion while Juyeon tilts his head up to take her lips. Tension tears off like two desperate sides of a rubber band and Juyeon takes his hands on her hips. To take his knee up higher to force her chest closer to his own.
Behind the door, there's nowhere to go, he wishes for them to continue being in this place, this emotion.
Juyeon trails hands up to her waist. To get on his knees and gently make her come in contact with the white tub. Her hair spreads out the sides of the curvature and his mouth comes agape when he watches her eyes, in what he hopes is at least brief adoration.
Once again he puts his hips into her own. Timidly pushes against her through all the layers of fabric and breathes out. Y/n lifts her own leg up to make room for the climbing friction between them. Juyeon sighs and lets his head fall down, in which Y/n takes her hands through his hair and moans.
She can see his expression, and he looks as divine as he sounds. She soothes the side of his head and tilts her head before whispering.
“Juyeon?”
He moans again and pushes his hips harder into hers.
“My name sounds lovely when you say it.” He pauses to breathe again, “Please say my name again?”
Y/n swallows and the pupil of her eye comes in between him, the friction soon the wall behind them. So quietly but still enough so he can hear how she calls his name again.
“Juyeon…”
A pleasure hits him through his spine and he moans again while holding onto nothing with his other arm. The constant humping makes her not glide down the bathtub and when he carelessly starts pushing his hips against her, at a pace faster than before. Y/n takes her hand from her side and forces it into the small space between them. He throws his head back when the layers of fabric come tightly against him. In nearly instant, Juyeon fucks his hips into the cloth in her palm.
Y/n doesn’t take her eyes off as she’s determined to see him fall down and rests on her chest.
“Y/n…”
She answers in melody.
“I need to see you come, all undone for me.”
As the shorts and underwear lie serene on the carpet beside them, her head falls to the edge. Her hand comes to his face and he takes the hem of his pants off as he misses her. Though it aches with impatience, Juyeon’s eyes shimmer in hands, cupped by Y/n. Every motion he does in pleasure, as if handcrafted. It sores from watching him wither above. Y/n nods again, whispers to please see him wilt in cause of her.
He fills her completely when they come as close as possible. The first thrusts are painfully slow as he edges on relief but desperately wants to feel her warmth. Y/n urges him to fasten the pace as she falls down the wall. He holds his eyes on Y/n like she will save him as he thrusts harder.
“Please, Y/n, you look so beautiful.” His legs twitch, “I need to see you…”
His words falter as she cries out for a second time. He slows down in pace, staying amidst the warmth as the high washes over her. On precise edge, Y/n takes her hand onto the material and forces herself off him. Though the pleasure still affects her, she reaches her hand out where it hurts the most. She strokes him just merely. Juyeon’s eyes are closed and he cries from pleasure and wet stains her skin. The sight of him desperately saying her name and convulse in pure bliss might live on for an eternity. He continues with slow motions in her hand, moving the stains up the rest of her hand before the wave falters.
Juyeon gently descends his head beside hers. The right arm out of the pushing under his weight and he lies it underneath her head. The two of them close their eyes while listening to their breath echo throughout the bathroom.
Though, as the world comes back into place and Y/n opens her eyes to see the ceiling, she thinks about the windows outside. It goes chills through her essence when she looks at a the ventilator. Juyeon’s breathe are soft on the side of her face and she still console his hair. She desperately wants to lie beside him for as long as time lets them. Turn her face to see his blissful features look back at her own.
But for every second, reality moves closer. How her escape from above might put him once again in pain. The scene from when Eric put their names on his note comes back to her in a form of a distant but cold wave.
Fate doesn’t have them, she thinks before sitting up. The change in atmosphere comes suddenly to Juyeon who lifts his upper body when she climbs out the tub, takes on her cloth and goes to the door.
“Where are you going?” She obscene herself before turning. He sits like she left him and the withered shine in his eyes that yearns for her burns the side of her heart. Y/n puts her other hand on the handle and looks down without a clear expression.
“I’m really tired.” Her voice is low, putting a further distance.
“Oh, okay.” Juyeon looks down.
Of course he’s so perfect, she thinks and opens the door wider. To set her feet out before she returns and see his sunken posture, watching the patterns at the bottom of the tub. Y/n bites her lips.
“Don’t sleep in the bathtub tonight.” She says and Juyeon looks up, giving her a smile reminiscent of the one he always gives her.
“Don’t worry about me.”
Y/n nods and takes a step out again and shuts the door, not fully closed.
“Thank you.” She says, before at last leaving.
When the divide amid the handle and frame becomes non-existent and each step of her bare feet recites from the floor back to her, she sees the rising moon in the corner of the window, fade from view as dark clouds pass by. There’s no liquid moonlight cast on the kitchen counter, and the metal in the sink emits no starfall reflection.
She takes the hand that holds the only visual significance of the scene in the bathroom, and her other hand on the tap. The white stains run off her hand and weave together with the water. She watches the colors of morning gloom after rain, before it all eventually disappears down the drain. Y/n closes the tap, when her hand is left on the metal and she watches the lone drops of water that's left. It feels as if a part of her essence might have gone down with it, leaving her left at the edge of the world.
Y/n hasn’t stayed in one place since she came down from Olympus for more than a few days. The date of the calendar has passed three days longer than planned, but why does she find this city so astonishingly more beautiful than any other place? She closes her eyes and maybe the ache in her heart will flow down the metal pipes like how she saw. But at last, her hand falls off the tap.
Maybe hope will win, she thinks. The only thing left to believe in, the only thing that will save the three of them. If she goes to sleep in this state of heart, she hopes for their good life that Juyeon sits in the bathtub yearning for the woman he did a few days ago. She hopes no stems grow through his skin and to, as the love goddess and not Y/n, not see him fall to the floor as the power she rules consumes him from within.
-
“You’re awake?”
To turn to the opening between two walls and see the table in the middle of it. The sun is already up. Juyeon takes his hand from his back to above his eyes, in the cause of blinding gray light.
“Yeah, I-” Juyeon sits up and starts walking out the kitchen. Eric and Y/n sit on either side and he stands beside them and looks down the plates.
“You cooked?" Did you burn anything?” He asks Eric in which he shakes his head and points at Y/n while his mouth is full.
“No, Y/n did.”
As she sits on the opposite end from where he’s looking, Juyeon shifts his vision. The golden brown of the bread leaves trails of grease on the tips of her fingers and when she too looks up at him, scenes from last night pass through his peripheral vision like they tell you at the edge of death. Juyeon looks away before any visual traces will be sighted on his face. And as he scratches his neck, Y/n comes up from the chair and goes to the counter. When he feels the faint touch of her free hand on his back, Juyeon looks over his shoulder and sees the plate in her hand.
“I did one for you too.” Her hand leans the plate out for him and Juyeon hesitantly takes it, “I tried to remember what you have on it, hopefully I got it right.” Y/n smiles and gets down to her seat once again.
The vast eyes of his observes her eating before turning down to look at his own plate. How each of the green and red vegetable layers follows the same patterns as he usually does.
Though, in truth, as he takes a bit of the sandwich, a sort of warmth trails down the sore spot. In one way he just thinks the sleepiness is coming off, but in between all the superficial, in the hidden part of his heart, he wants to fall to his knees and shout that Y/n hasn’t abandoned him. That there is hope left for them.
“Eric?” Juyeon has hands on his knees. Eyes turn away from the speckles of color running across the concrete. And when they land on the younger sitting beside him, Eric has his towel in his hands, throws it above his shoulder.
Eric hums and looks at Juyeon.
He plays football in a building further away when school’s over. Sometimes memories return from that unchanged landscape. The sun wore bleachers and the synthetic grass field that spares its color no matter season. At some point, Juyeon didn’t need to follow him and wait on the bleachers.
Juyeon came here as the clock reached noon. He took one stop earlier off the bus and walked to the entrance of the building in light blue paint. And Eric sat like he always has done, on the same place four rows above the grass.
“What’s a good gift to a girl?.” He asks finally. The inner corner of Eric’s eyebrows closes in together as he doesn’t say anything. Simply stares at the one, a row under before his lips curl at its sides and Juyeon throws his face in his palms.
“Ohhhhh!”
Eric’s shoulder veiled in damp shirt material comes closer to his own before the younger takes the towel. He turns it in the air so that cold wind comes down on Juyeon. The one with a towel over his head starts swinging it closer and Juyeon doesn’t get to protest before the damp fabric runs across his face.
“When did you become like this?!” Eric’s eyes, immense as his back falls into a curve to reach down where Juyeon hides.
“Why am I proud?" Eric asks himself as he puts an arm around the older and lets his head high to once again see the bleachers in the lower end become steeper and the artificially green grass spread from one end to the other.
“You didn’t answer.” Juyeon scratches the back of his hair, still with his own features a little nearer empty space down the bleachers.
“What should I give her…a girl?” Juyeon corrects himself. At the end line where the side of the field ends and two planes of the bleachers start, he sees Eric’s feet come into frame and turns towards that direction. The shoelaces have blemishes of black hues and the neon color itself has run with rain water down the drains. Four depressing shades of fabrics in the same motion of how he kicks his feet back and forth, reminiscent of the end leaves of a dying plant.
“I know it’s Y/n so we can start from there.” Eric answers and leans forward, “So what should you give Y/n?”
Juyeon sighs again and lets his face in between his hands while falling forward.
“I don’t know, that’s why I came here.”
Eric continues to look down on his shoelaces, “I mean, you know her well, you can’t figure out at least one thing?”
Juyeon shakes his head.
“No wonder she broke up with you.” He says to himself and the older takes his face up from his hands and stares at him with deadpan.
“Okay, too soon.” Eric takes up his hands above his head.
“I don’t know, chocolate, that’s classic. A movie ticket to a romance movie? She’s the god of love – or new clothing, she doesn’t have much clothes.” Eric starts to look up at the high ceiling but jumps one step away on the bleachers as Juyeon stands up and gasps.
“I know, I– thank you, see you!”
Eric holds his arm closer to his own body, all while Juyeon jumps down the four rows and disappears along the white edge of the green field. The heavy metal door at the side of the building echoes throughout the empty walls.
His eyes linger on the cold metal doors. There’s butterflies in his stomach, and not for himself, but for his brother. The slight change in atmosphere in their limited apartment, and the expressions of Juyeon’s face seemed to have cleared with the sky. Truly, Eric thinks, Y/n being a goddess or not, she cast a spell on their life and made him look at the sunset in an angle never perceived before. If she could stay with them, with Juyeon, a little longer, he might actually believe he gets to see flowers bloom in spring.
Though, ever since he wrote their names on the note and she told him it’s not possible. He looks at his brother, when he melts to his knees and reaches out to touch her. The severe words she uttered that evening. In her otherworldly complexion, there’s a shadow she desperately tried to hide from him that day. Eric knows more than anyone, even more than Juyeon himself, that their love is inevitable. But a part of him hopes still, that the thing she fears so deeply, is merely a projection, and that if he doesn’t tell Juyeon, the three of them might get what is closest to “forever”.
As Y/n came to them in the last weeks of December, she noticed the decorations of warm light scattered across every avenue. Eric told her on the bus once that they celebrate the passage of a new turn around the sun. That whole ride until the final glass cubicle, she told questions in which Eric eagerly answered. Juyeon and Eric, promised Y/n to take her to the center city when the sky’s shimmer.
They’ve walked all three down the street alleys. There’s a light from every restaurant and in the few open balconies and windows, music blasts through the street. She’d never seen so many shoes on the same platform. How it causes ripples in puddles, forces the mall entrance doors to stand open eternally and the constant, city conversations integrate.
None of them took much down to the festival, Juyeon told her to dress up but there’s not much in her limited closet that would pass as festive attire. While she herself went with the shirt she always wears, it itched in Juyeon’s fingers to give her paper blue bag beside the bed. When down the street she pointed towards it, asked him why he’s carrying a bag. Juyeon took the excuse of wanting an extra scarf and umbrellas with him if it starts raining.
To chase warmth while running through the open streets. And when the entrance door to the mall directs like curtains, people have gathered for the final scene of the night., Juyeon touches them both lightly.
“I’ll get us something to eat, we haven’t eaten since lunch.” Juyeon points at a nearby van down one of the streets. It reeks of steam from the window while the person in front fervently switches conversations with the new person next in line. The two nod and Juyeon looks at Y/n while turning half away.
“Look after Eric, okay!?”
In the midst of all the burning colors, Y/n takes her eyes off the sky to see the reflection of each spark in people’s eyes. As passionate red fills the sky and scatters a wither of faint glow, Y/n think truly, that she has never felt as alive as now. The upper quarter of the crowd starts to move, she looks in that direction where a concise distance opens up between two jackets.
That divide of the mass has loosened and the wall of the closest building works as a background to the people passing by that glimpse. Another firework goes off, echoes over the crowded platform. Eric looks up when her hand on his own becomes tighter and the direction of her head is not the sky but the front wall of the mall. He too leans forward to see between the arms of the ones before them, but as he opens his mouth to ask her what’s wrong, Y/n takes an even stronger grasp around his hand. Her own skin forces white spots to appear onto Eric’s and he nearly falls in a man’s chest as she turns.
“What?!-” Eric shouts as people pull their shoulders closer to their warmth when they run past them. Y/n doesn’t look back, but exchanges attention from the barely patterns of the platforms and Eric’s hand secured in her own.
“Run Eric!” Y/n tries to overpower the next color that fires off above them.
To escape the borderline of tight bound space and now free view over the imminent skyscrapers and alleys from the center. Y/n’s chest falls desperately, an impending sensation that hurts at the mit of her heart and seeps through the back. As each breath might cut her throat inside and a dye of red stronger than the one above, she takes another step and starts running.
“What are we running from?!” Eric asks again, but Y/n doesn’t answer. The younger sometimes, when he looks at her face, sees a glimpse of her features when her hair comes behind the side profile. Vast eyes that none of the massive street lights can catch the attention of, and once or twice closes her eyes like it hurts. The strange fright running after them has him desperately coil his fingers with hers, run towards wherever she takes him. As the city flashes them by like a sped up film, they pass a familiar face without even noticing. He calls their names but only Eric looks back.
“Y/n! It’s Juyeon!” Eric shouts and looks at her.
“I need to go Eric, I need to go!” She breathlessly answers him. The signs start to fade, only streetlight patterns with distance lines the alley, the rest hidden. Fireworks from the curved celestial become all fainter and she can clearly hear his voice now.
“Y/n! Y/n stop!” Her name bears through the street. There’s a few restaurants with closed doors and warm lighting down the high walls. The people inside might see the silhouettes disappearing in an instant before the outer window.
Juyeon shouts again and runs. The paper bag hits his thigh. Cause of petals in his throat, each shout becomes weaker and soon no air seems to pass them. The lungs inside his chest reach for air but like a cement divide, it seems impossible. Juyeon coughs as he still runs, and hears Eric shouting her name too. At the end of the road where three others meet, Juyeon gets his hands on her shoulder and forces her back towards him. They stop in an instant, and his other hand comes to her shoulder.
“Y/n!” All three breathe heavily as they stand in a crossing. When the sky burns of color, it might even melt.
“What happened?” He takes another breath and Y/n takes a step back, but Juyeon forces her feet to return to that place. Her head looks the other direction so her side profile comes into full view, but his hands go to carry her face.
“Y/n?”
“I need to go.” She swallows. Eric takes a step from the two of them, watches how tears edges off her eyes.
“I need to go, Juyeon.” Her own hand comes to his upper arms as she tries to push him away, but his own only comes closer, embracing her shoulder and back. The white fabric folds against his arms. To never let his sight of hers.
“Why? Why do you need to go?” He asks gently.
“It’s my mother, I saw my mother.” Y/n breathe and try to look behind Juyeon’s back before returning, “I’ve stayed for too long, I shouldn't have used my powers.”
Finally all the water that has accumulated under her eyelashes overflows and a single drop runs down the curve of her cheek. As the tears itself saturate the space beneath her eyes and drown the lashes, all thoughts that would continue to pile up on her mind, reach the high ceiling. Where the last piece of stress bends at the top and eventually the whole tower falls. Tension releases in a second and Y/n feel her body become heavy.
“I need to go.” She says again in a voice barely above a whisper. To face the rain covered asphalt, the strands of her hair fall before her face. Juyeon holds his arms still in that place they are in. But eventually, he let them fall to her upper arms. When her body is fully in his embrace, Juyeon pulls her closer so her head lands on his shoulder and body against his own.
“I’ll help you get away.” Juyeon says gently. Though the fragments scratching his throat tightens at the sentence, he takes another breath through the flourished broken part. Let the sharp edges of vines pierce the insides.
“And Eric will too.” He adds, looks towards the younger. Y/n shifts, then, a meter away stands Eric in a tense position, though, it slowly loosens as she looks at him. The yellow sign behind him, shines from his head like a halo and he gives her that boyish smile like he always does. At that, she gifts one back.
“But you have to sleep.” She looks back at Juyeon, “We’ll help you out of here in the morning, but you can’t leave tonight.”
She’s quiet.
“I promise, your mom won’t find you.” He says sincerely as he looks at her in the eyes. Y/n can’t say anything, instead nods.
-
Y/n didn’t sleep. Even when she lied in bed with vision parallel to the turned off lamps above, Juyeon with great delicacy took the spot beside her. She refused to visually trace his face, still when his arm came under her neck and voice fluttered against her ears as he drew her closer. Forced light to divide from her eyes, maybe nothingness would mend the sore. Though, for every change on the minute digit and next firework. Naivety only pushes it bitterly, to grow in the hidden parts of her essence.
Even at 5 in the morning, when their side of Earth still longs the sun, Juyeon’s hand is placed over her like before. Though, feather-like when he sleeps. His other arm is placed across her chest and at the end of his hand, he holds her upper arm. She turns from the ceiling, down to the side where his face is closest. Only in intimate moments have he been this near, but for the first time she can admire his natural red blemishes and the patterns on lips without Juyeon withdrawing.
Time may stop for merely a second when she sees him like this, but there's trouble deep within her heart. It consumes butterflies left in her stomach and she reaches out closer to him, kisses him at the ending scene. It’s gentle and fast, contrasting to the cruelly slow ones they shared before. Y/n loosens his arm and climbs out the bed. When she packs all the belongings that can count on two hands, she sits on the floor and looks over towards Eric. The view is incredibly familiar as his arms depend on the bed edge and feet free from the fabrics.
Y/n smiles before the pocket in the bag closes and she walks towards that side of the room. Her head is on its tilt when she tries to look at his face from the right angle. His mouth is slightly agape when he breathes and carefully Y/n takes her hand to brush his fringe. The covers are halfway over his stomach and Y/n bring it over his chest. As the edge of the stripes ends before his neck, Y/n takes a step back. To look at the room in its grandest form, she feels like bursting into tears.
At last, she walks out the kitchen floor like an ending scene and comes out the hallway, just like the credit scene. When she reaches down for her shoes, a piercing knock on the door comes through the walls. Y/n stumbles backwards and catches her weight with her arm. She stands completely still while looking up the impending door. Another knock echoes throughout the apartment and this time, Y/n straightens up from the floor and takes the handle. Let the backpack fall to the side.
When the door opens and the bright light from the stairs burns the dim apartment, her eyes squint. Though, a tall figure in dark clothes creates a shadow. She follows the lines of his clothing and sees his face. An older man with barely no hair, same with his smile.
“Is this Lee Juyeon’s apartment?” He asks in a monotone voice.
Y/n’s quiet for a second before nodding, “Yeah, he lives here.”
“Is he here?”
Y/n falls quiet again. To stare at his face without words, she looks down and sees the mark on the uniform chest. The reflexes on the navy shade and all the layers underneath. Y/n swallows before looking up again.
“No he’s not.” Y/n says without doubt. The man looks behind her, into the kitchen area for a second.
“Where is he then?”
She answers quickly as adrenaline starts rising, “He visited a friend last night after the fireworks, a friend from school.”
“Do you know where this friend lives?” He asks and Y/n bites her lip.
“Not completely, he took the bus.”
“Do you remember the number?”
“Maybe eight.” She lies.
The man takes up his phone and types something quick. She still holds the door when he puts it back down in his pocket.
“Are you aware of the investigation regarding Lee Juyeon?”
Y/n furrows her eyebrows.
“No.”
“He may be in possession of illegal firearms and has used them.” He pauses, “We are also in search of Eric Sohn?””Social services have been called to take him in since he's a minor with a guardian under crime investigation.”
Y/n stands with her mouth agape. In desperate need to answer him as he looks at her, but words refuse to come out.
“I understand it’s confusing,” he takes up a notepad and a pen, “But we’re gonna have to ask for your name since you seem to be close with Lee Juyeon and Eric Sohn.”
Y/n does write her name, incredibly unstable for the age she appears. She looks up at him when she has just written her name, he doesn’t say anything but reads between the glances that a second name in after space should be there too. Y/n quickly adds a surname and gives the note and pen back to the officer.
“Thank you.” He says, “Is Eric Sohn with Lee juyeon?”
“Yeah.” Y/n nods, “They took the bus together last night.”
After a few more questions, the officer does finally leave her at the door. She doesn’t close it until his silhouette disappears fully down the stairs. When it finally does and she has stood there long enough for the automatic lights in the ceiling to shut, she does pull the handle close and lean her forehead towards the frame. Y/n closes the lids against the bottom as if it’ll erase the world from her. But when she opens them, the world is still cruelly real and she turns to the kitchen.
Y/n shakes Eric first, let the covers she adjusted fall down his stomach once again. He lets out a confused sound with eyes still closed. Y/n continues to bother him while speaking.
“Eric, you need to wake up.”
Eventually she walks over to Juyeon, grabs arm and shakes his upper body. She repeats his name in usual volume and slowly his eyes come open and his head turns to her.
“Y/n?”
“The police were here.” She shakes him still, “You’re under criminal investigation, Juyeon. They’ll take Eric…you’re a criminal, Juyeon.”
Y/n herself seem to have not fully comprehended the words the officer spoke outside. And as she voices what he told her, it dawns on her chest and her breath becomes heavy. She looks at him weakly when he sits up. The tiredness that lingers after slumber has disappeared and he looks at her with vast eyes and she repeats it to him.
“Social services will take Eric, you’re under investigation for illegal firearm use.”
Juyeon stares at her for a second before taking the phone off the desk. She takes a step back once the blue light illuminates his face. He clicks into the news sights and at first article at the very start of the site, a video recording from the alley when he fired off the gun. He hits the lamp above them and it ends shortly after the man stands up. He reads the title of the article, “Young man wanted after shooting”.
She sees the video rewind on his phone as his face turns to Eric on the other side who shifts position. Despite the weight coming down on them in one moment, none of them even stands up or walks out. From today's news, their tomorrow plays out in front of their visions. Like a gloomy movie Juyeon watches how they take Eric, ship him off to somewhere, long outside this city while he himself is stuck in between the same four walls for months on end.
Y/n herself knows she must take herself out of the city. Sky’s been watching, nothing’s here will save her. But she can’t take her feet to the hallway, bend her arms down to her bag and leave them behind.
“I’m so sorry, Juyeon.” She doesn’t know why she apologizes. After all, it’s not her in a layered uniform who will come between the closed door at dawn and separate the two. But the way his eyes lingers on Eric’s silhouette while the grip on the phone tightens.
Juyeon suddenly looks up towards Y/n, he stands up and takes her shoulder, “Don’t apologize, Y/n.”
He walks away to the kitchen, opens the shelves and takes out red packages. Snacks in vibrant colors and then down to the refrigerator where he grabs the plastic bottle of juice. She stays in one place, unable to relocate her essence when the world progresses at a fast pace. Juyeon places the food on the table before he goes to the hallway to take out a backpack. Y/n takes her first step closer to follow his silhouette where she once stood to leave.
“What are you doing?” She asks when he comes back to the table and lies the cheap plastic in the backpack.
“We’ll have to move too.”
She’s quiet for a second, stands with hands against her sides when he goes to the shelfs.
“Where?” She looks at him.
“I don’t know, probably where you’re going.”
His answer causes a wind to force the side edge of the mirror to reflect back onto herself. Her double vision becomes unclear when the thing she focuses on is rather a gloom layer at the far end of the world. Probably Y/n will disappear in the masses of people down the main road complexions before even that fades as she comes all the further from the center metropolitan. When buildings start to lose color and texts graze the sides of parks, she’ll take the bus and let the vehicle take her as far as it can. Where she’ll stand in the vast world when the sun falls down the horizon once again, is like always, a mystery.
“I’m not leaving Eric.” Juyeon comes back to the table before turning to her.
“And not you either.”
-
Before the sun breaks up on the horizon, they were out of the apartment. The sky’s collapsing above them as it rains, reminiscent of melancholy in hearts. Y/n walks beside Juyeon in between high end stores and dares to look up the gray coloration in thick layers. It all reminds her of the first day she saw this city for the first time.
They come to a meeting point where the city's buses pass in rush hour. The weather has worsened, wind from the shoreline comes through the building divides and forces the rain to stand on diagonal. They force their heads down and in need of perception, they peek through the strands. With all the other lights and reflections, they see neon green stripes of guards around the platform. The central station has just a few white stripes on the asphalt before them.
To let one of the glass structures hold the rain above, Eric and Y/n take their hoods off and let the water that has accumulated run down their backs. Y/n looks to the left to see a woman in the inner corner of the booth. She shifts her feet as it reeks and scatters of cigarettes.
“You didn’t have another jacket?” Eric looks at Juyeon who hesitantly takes his hand up the edge of his hood.
“It’s the only one that is waterproof.”
Eric sighs, “If they come up to us, it’s your fault.” He points at the officers the other booth away.
“I’m sure those two, specifically, don't look for us.” Juyeon emphasis.
Y/n lean over to hold her finger before her lips. They look at her with immense eyes and eyebrows knitted together. In response, she tilts her head in constant pattern, back towards the woman behind, she’s on her own phone, but both Juyeon and Eric get the hint. Eric turns to the open rectangle staring out into the rain that has started to take on forms of snow.
As another bus pass them and it’s only seven minutes until theirs come, the officers has come out the booth and started patrolling this line. Their uniforms in neon details shines clearly through the snow. And as they come closer, each of them become stale in their soaked clothing, feeling each water drop plummet against the ground.
“Just be natural.” Juyeon says in low volume while hitting them gently with his elbow.
The two officers come before the transparency. The three of them hold their heads in other directions, only daring a look in between time through side eyeing. The two have stopped talking, topics seem to have run dry and they come closer to the death of afternoon. The officer closest to them passes his eyes over the glass. Juyeon holds his breath tightly and looks up at the screen in orange outlines showing another minute. At last, none of them cease dividing puddles as they continue down the platform.
The three of them fall with their backs onto the glass. Y/n turns to see the silhouette linger. But as she prepares to look away, Y/n tears her eyes off immediately, as they glimpse through the thick rain and stained glass. When a half minute has gone by, she dares to seek that side again, the two officers are static on that spot.
Y/n budge Juyeon with her elbow, but he only faces the back side of her head. He follows where he thinks her sight lines and sees the two officers turn to look at their booth. The two of them look away and Juyeon brings Eric closer to his side.
Eventually the two officers walked back to them, letting the glass divide two sides. The woman beside them looks towards the opening to see the police seek inside, but she quickly turns back to her screen.
“Waiting for the bus?” The one to the right asks.
“Yeah.” Juyeon nods.
“Did it work paying for tickets? We’ve been getting complaints all day that the machine is struggling.”
“Yeah, we used the app.” He answers quickly.
There’s silence.
The police breathe in, “We’ve gotten a report of suspicion against you three.”“There’s a case of a young man potentially on the run, he has a younger brother of sorts and a female friend.” He pauses, “It’s a serious errand, I would want to ask for your names.”
Eric looks up at Juyeon, then down into the ground, Y/n herself side eyes him too.
“Kim Joonwoo.” Juyeon says after a passage of silence.
They look down at Eric.
“Max Sohn.”
Y/n too lies.
The two officers look skeptical at the three of them. Then their eyes lock with each other and one of them tilts their head further out the rain before disappearing.
“We want you guys to wait for a minute, we’ll just have to check in.”
The other stands in the rain with their back against them. His hand comes out the pocket as he holds a phone to his ear.
Juyeon bites his lip. The one standing against the booth frame has taken out his phone and stares at the screen. Juyeon looks towards Y/n and budges her arm with his own. Y/n dares to look at him and they lock eyes. He doesn’t say anything, but points his head towards teh space where the last officer stood. She knits her eyebrows at first, leans harder against the glass pane when he eagerly opens his eyes and points with his head in that direction. Finally he looks over the two officers and sees none of them at concentration, he takes his lips closer to her hair.
“When I take your hand, we’ll run, okay?” Juyeon falls back. The little space created heats of whispers in cold rain. Y/n nods as Juyeon turns to Eric and whispers the same words.
Her heart races behind the synthetic fibers of the coat. Out in the rain, the officer guides his hand away and let the phone come before his face. At that moment, before he hangs up on the caller, a cold grip on her own soaked fingers runs through her. She already had her heel on the glass divide and push from it in a second. Eric accidentally falls against the other police when he runs out their back silhouettes dim out the rain, directed towards the street up the city.
One officer shouts at them which takes the attention of the other and in a span of less than seven seconds all five are aiming at that street. Juyeon holds their hand desperately in his own as the asphalt end seem to decline in streetlights, in compassion to the escape.
-
“I’m hungry.” Eric sits on the edge of the bed. How the perfect surface of the silk white sheets forms lines in which he sits. There’s only one bed, or two thinner, long sides against each other. Y/n lets her bag onto the floor two meters after the hotel door. There is no scent in the room, if she concentrates and lifts her chin higher, maybe there’s a hint of chlorine.
“We all ate before going.” Juyeon throws himself onto the other side.
“Yeah, but I’m still growing.” Eric complains and falls in parallel to Juyeon.
“You don’t.” Juyeon smiles while looking at the ceiling before his head falls to the side in which the both of them share. Eric too lets his eyes wither from the spotlight shine and turn to the subject in which he falls onto.
“Ha, really funny.” Eric deadpans, takes the pillow that’s half a meter from his head. When he holds the pillow in the air, gravity takes it down to the mattress in which Eric aims towards Juyeon. The older one takes his own elbow as a protective hold before his eyes. Sounds of laughter erupt from that side of the room as Eric goes onto knees to hit Juyeon fervently.
Y/n stands in parallel to the mirror before the bathroom. For the first time she smiles in what feels like years. The sheet edges loosens from the mattress when Juyeon only vaguely tries to protect his body from the hits. Even then, his elbow comes back down to its side. Only closes his eyelids when the pillow comes close and the smile, only Eric gifts to see, never falters.
A surreal wind goes through the walls, fills the hotel room. It struck her again, in her heart. Human time slows down and despite having a window right before her, that world disappears at the edge of the observable horizon. As the pillow in Eric’s hand falter and comes to lie in his lap, Y/n goes to Juyeon’s bag, opens the zipper and takes out a plastic packaging of a white cream bread. To come up to the bed herself and cross her legs at the end of Juyeon’s feet and diagonally towards Eric, she gives him the bread.
“Oh, thank you, Y/n.” Eric takes it and opens the sealed edge.
“You’re seriously giving him?” Juyeon takes only his head up from the mattress which forces his voice to come out strained.
“Yeah?” Y/n smiles and looks at him.
“He should only get a reward if he has done something good.” Juyeon falls back.
“He has.” She insists.
“Like what?”
“Shut you up.”
Eric laughs and hits the surface of the bed with his free hand. Y/n too smiles at her own comment and the two of them bring their hands to a high five. While the laughs lingers in between the divide of the bed Juyeon shifts onto his stomach and falls flat with his head against the fabric.
When they arrived with the bus at the outer corner of the city, it was already dark. They ran until street signs were rare and seeked for their conservation behind a karaoke bar down the crowded street. At the backside of the building with all bins of alcohol cans and empty plastic bags, they sat between the black synthetics. It rained still, they balanced on their feet even when they had sat there for 20 minutes. At last, Juyeon spoke for the first time since the shout to run behind the corner. After, they took the bus on a lonely waiting platform with no screen on the bus times, just a worn down time table underneath the name.
No one else beside them and a man, two seats before, sat on the bus. And even the man walked off two stops before them as they sat on those demishined seats for as long as the ride let them. When the last stop got called through the speakers, they walked off back into the rain and the sun had fallen. Only those usual lights on row down the street were there to guide. At last when their feet were sore from escaping and minds had become numb from all the oversaturation they came to a hotel in gloom.
They couldn’t tell if it was because of the dark or the hotel building simply hadn’t been renovated since it first came to fruition on this street. Either way, three of the eight letters before the entrance didn’t work.
After barely an hour after closing the door to their small room in which Juyeon used his extra money for, they took on other clothes and went to lie in bed. Eric’s closest to the window, Y/n in the divide where the two beds leave a limited gap and Juyeon thereafter. She feels slightly stale when in between the two of them, but it loosens off quickly when Eric starts talking about stories from when he was younger and what he and his friends did the month ago. The two older listens as his words become incomprehensible in sleep.
Suddenly it's just the two of them again. Y/n’s quiet when Juyeon starts coughing a little, he takes his arm up to his mouth and she turns their shared side to see him caress the underside of his throat. When they were running from the officers and jumped behind the back alley, Juyeon too reached deeply for air and desperately seemed to mute his coughs while waiting. She blinks a few times while still staring at him, before speaking.
“You’re okay, Juyeon?” Only a mere part of all the worries and guilt in her heart.
“Yeah.” He coughs once more before guiding his arm underneath his head, “Just a little sick I think.” He smiles and scratches his hair, “The rain was really cold.”
His voice only reaches the span of the closest two pillows when he takes his hands underneath his chin and turns to the side, “I think I need a hug.”
Y/n squints her eyes and looks at his smile before whispering, “Really? "Right now?”
Juyeon’s request when in a strange bed while his face circulates rounds on the internet, it feels rather inappropriate in her book. Though, she laughs as the fringe falls diagonally over his vast eyes. There’s a point in pearl essence when he looks at her in which she has no choice but to reach for his face. The same echoing words in the back of her mind as the night they spent together in each other's arms comes back. It taunts her to divide space in between them. But even when not only this Earth, but the universe, chases them, she still finds her soul melting of tenderness when he looks at her.
“You are a bit cold.” She smiles and caresses his head.
Juyeon hums and closes his eyes, shifts his head on the pillow before bringing himself closer. His head comes underneath her chin as her arms closer around him and his breath comes against her chest.
For every touch of her hand against his essence, and each time her warmth pulsates out of her veins and spreads across his own, he can feel the ways in his throat become choked. Ribbons with sharp edges tightens around his heart. He closes his eyes painfully, forces his head closer to her chest, as if to merge with her, the pain will cease. All the world’s seems to desperately stand in his way, he thinks in this rain drowned night. He can’t look forward to the morning. When any road can take him there, he closes his eyes and wishes to remember this moment, her arms, her presence, even in death. The green plantations in between the frozen cracks might grow from this weather, and so do the lilac petals in his heart.
-
There’s a sharp edge of yellow light. It cuts through the dark room in a single divide and traces up the floor to her face where it climbs up the wall. Y/n opens her eyes just so that a liminal shade of the outer world can be conceived. The light comes from the open bathroom door diagonally from her. As hands spread across the pillow behind her to let the weight off the mattress, Y/n hears violent dry coughing coming from the gap.
She looks to the left where the side of the window stands, Eric still sleeps. Juyeon’s pillow has creases left of him and the sheet is folded from where he left. Another severe cough occurs from that room and Y/n folds the fabric once more as the warmth accumulated underneath, lowers in degrees while free. Gently while rubbing her eyes with her left hand, Y/n takes the other on the frame while adjusting her eyes to the light.
“Juyeon?”
He depends on the sink with his hands. Upper body leaned forward over the crater while his back replicates the harsh sounds coming from his throat. Y/n tilts her head to see his face, but neither standard vision or mirror angle contravene her fear. The cough brutally tears on the insides of his throat, it too causes delusive discomfort in her own body.
His back straightens suddenly and Juyeon turns his head over. She stays in continued silence as he looks at her with eyes of liquid layers and redness underneath. He takes his arm up to his mouth to cough again before he takes a step closer and directs his body to come in between the bounded space of frame and body.
“I’m okay.” He says hastily without making eye contact.
Y/n follows the sight of his back silhouette returning into the hotel room. She lets go of the door frame, takes a single step to the sink. A dead garden with only traces left, deep lilac petals. It decorates the sink by erratic trails from the mit where water comes down. The air in her own chest twined amidst two ways. In contrast to the exhausted motions from the bathroom, she forces the door up even wider until it hits the other wall. Juyeon with arms against the mirror at the bed end, and she rushes towards him.
“Juyeon!” With her hands on his shoulders, she pulls him closer to turn him in a direction to let his front face hers. But he stubbornly leans heavier against the mirror and only his left shoulder comes two centimeters closer before returning back.
“Juyeon!” Her voice is loud in a room compressed beside ten others at the end of the city. She refuses to close her eyes when he coughs again and eventually, they plummet to the ground when he can’t bear the flowers rotting his body. Juyeon's face hides before the carpet.
Y/n sinks to her knees, takes one hand under his chin and the other at the back of his head. To force his face up from the floor and see lilac vibrancy in gloom consume his features. A single petal falls from the end of his lips down to her thigh. Now when it traces her essence, she feels so cruel for being optimistic.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” The hand on his hair comes to his cheek where she touches the red coloration with her thumb. Let the gentle pressure create white patterns before it returns to that color.
“I- '' Juyeon coughs again and Y/n takes her other arm on his shoulder when he comes down to her lap. His hair scattered across her legs and the ceiling above him withers in view.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Y/n repeats in which he looks remorsefully up at her from her embrace.
“I’m sorry, Y/n.”
Tears threaten at the borderline under her eyes. Y/n shakes her head and reaches for the backpack behind her. This entire life, she wished to still be holy, but she realizes she might never be, when one grip the arrow. She holds it in her right hand, above his fragile heart. Juyeon’s eyes widen as the sharp knife aims at his vulnerable. He takes her wrist from below and speaks through the petals.
“What are you doing?” He coughs.
“I need to save you, Juyeon!” Y/n holds against him with her own strength.
Her voice becomes softer, “It won’t hurt, Juyeon, I would never hurt you.” The single tear comes off her eye and falls onto his cheek. He pity her so deeply. But he wishes to be destroyed, eradicated by fate, if only he follows her for an eternity.
“I-I don’t want to.” His voice is sore when he speaks and she shakes her head.
“You’re gonna die, Juyeon.” She weighs down the arrow even harder, “I can’t let you die.”
Shift of fabrics comes from the bed above them. Juyeon closes his eyes. Even in no visual presence he feels her raging strength extraordinarily work against him. A single glimpse into the future and his heart aches, maybe even more than the tearing in his throat. He doesn’t know where the second arrow will land after she strikes him, but he might as well be buried six feet under if it’s because of her.
“I love you, Y/n.” He breathes heavily while his eyes lie underneath their lids. Y/n takes his shoulder with her other hand, shakes him fervently,
“Juyeon!”
“I just want to hear you…” He whispers and Y/n forces her eyes close when the tears run down her skin. The grip on the arrow becomes weak from both directions as she leans her face on his chest. Y/n shakes her head because fate betrayed her, gruesome and vengefully again.
There’s faintly rain shatter. The dark gray clouds can be seen from this angle but one can only insinuate the existence of a cityscape at the end of the frame. Each of the droplets running down against the glass becomes further precise. He traces the outline of one of them, like his youth, following its tail to the very end where it shatters into pieces.
“He’s awake!”
A voice that echoes in the strange room, it shares the same stardust as his. He turns from the window and the yellow shine from spotlight sources blinds him. Juyeon squints his eyes as his head comes flat against the hard pillow and a silhouette covers the light in the ceiling.
“Juyeon?” His voice is delicate, softer than in his memories. He knits his eyebrows and answers the one above him.
“Yeah?”
It’s only a word, pronounced sore and lost, but either way, it creates a smile on the boy above. As if too fragile to touch, he reaches his hand down to his shoulder and shakes him gently.
“It’s Eric!” He smiles still.
Juyeon still squints his eyes, “Yeah, I know.”
“Juyeon?”
The door from the other end of the room opens. There’s a wall before, in which two hands hold it while someone peaks through. A doctor comes before her, stands a meter behind Eric while the girl who spoke his name closes in.
Another second passes before he speaks her name. His hand comes down to his chest and he rises from the bed just a little. The girl walks from the spot at the very end of his feet to the opposite side of Eric. She holds both her hands before her front and leans down to him. He feels cold off her body as if been in the rain he just chased. She holds his shoulders while her head rests beside his. Juyeon closes his eyes and embraces her too.
“I was so worried.” She speaks quietly, so that each breath reaches his ear.
“I’m okay, don’t worry anymore.” He answers whilst hugging her tighter.
-
On the day Juyeon woke up at the hospital, she had ran to the bus platform in harsh rain after she got the hurried call from Eric that he was in sleep. Y/n only gave him a few hours to accept how she had altered fate, stand beside them in the yellow room whilst the past became forgotten. Juyeon, after waking up, went to the police station, he was on probation for a month, because of illegal firearm use but they did acknowledge self defense and past of no criminal records. Eric lived with Juyeon’s girlfriend at that time.
When visiting him while on probation nearly everyday after school, Eric told him the weeks leading up to the blackout. All while his brother returned to true state, Eric felt inexpressibly alone after walking home. How he lives in the ruins where no one goes.
Since that day, at the hotel where he nearly saw Juyeon die, Eric apologizes a lot for not being present. He wants to tell them that he lives in dreams, and put himself there because her name will never be forgotten. Instead he’s forced to tell the people that there was no Y/n, no love service, no magic, just an accident as Juyeon had gotten a gun curiously, used it to defend himself when a stranger was attacked in an alley. The rest of the story after new years stays, but without Y/n. He doesn’t know how she did it, but even the name of the friend the police got that morning after new years is not hers, but a friend of Juyeon’s.
Now when it’s the end of spring and the edge of summer, he lives with Juyeon again. They meet up with his girlfriend often after Juyeon’s work. In two days, he’ll pass the school entrance for the last time, and think back, on a summer day in the near future. But as he lies in bed at night, he can’t help mourn the loss of that endless winter. Y/n told him that those moments will wither, not feel as intensely as they once did. But he’s still there.
Eric comes home the next day after being out with his friends after school. Juyeon should be home, he thinks, as he’s nowhere to be seen when in the hallway. To see the sofa in the living room but sounds of struggle comes from a half open door opposite the balcony. There’s no sounds from Eric when walks with only his socks into his bedroom. Eric tilts head to see Juyeon’s back in his closet.
“Why are you in my room?” Eric asks and Juyeon looks up from the floor.
“Your closet door is a bit loose.” He pushes the black slide, “It’s soon done.” Juyeon smiles.
Eric nods but doesn’t take away his vision from that corner as a black box sits beside Juyeon. The lid’s off the edge by a centimeter. Eric comes in and lays the bag at the frame before weighing down on the bed edge. Juyeon has laid down the working material and looks at the black box. Eric straightens his posture when he takes it in his hands.
“I’m just curious, I didn’t mean to be nosy, but why do you have this dress?” Juyeon takes off the lid and angles the rectangular frame to showcase its inside. The dress in light blue color, detailed with white lace, is delicately folded so that the square neckline lies in center of the box. Eric bites his lip, hands on his thighs and touches them up and down the cotton fabric. There’s silence for a moment and Juyeon observes the younger’s expression when no words come out.
“Eric?” He let the box down to his lap.
“It’s yours.” He says and finally looks at him.
Juyeon tilts his head.
“Mine?”
Eric nods, “You bought it as a gift, you were supposed to give it to her on New Years.”
Juyeon asks if he means his girlfriend and Eric shakes his head, looks down again. The fingers of his right hand start scratching against the left. A thin layer of skin loosens from the nail binding. He bites his lip again and thinks of all the lone mind echoes.
Eric hasn’t seen Y/n since the day at the hospital. When Juyeon and his girlfriend started talking down in the room, Eric silently escaped and walked around the different floors with stairs in between. There was a door on the highest floor to an outside platform. Eric stood there, feeling a great sense of compassion for the Earth-like-tears. When it felt like everything might have been a dream, Y/n called his name.
To come into her embrace and affirm she’s real. Though, Y/n told him before leaving that her existence is now not a valid part of Juyeon’s world. That there’s just the two. That she promises he’ll not be left at the threshold of two worlds, that this moment in each other's arms isn’t the last. But winter will soon end, and he must accept how the flowers will forget about snow once it is replaced.
Eric breathes, “It’s Y/n.” He finally admits, still looking down.
Juyeon knit his eyebrows, “Y/n?”
Eric nods and a faint smile comes on his lips, “The one you saved, with the gun was Y/n. She lived with us at the end of December and you told me you loved her. You wanted to ask her out at New Years but you never got the time, because then the police searched for you.”
Juyeon listens quietly, opens his mouth but none come to flourish. Instead he shakes his head.
“I wasn’t told that.” He says hurt.
“She told me not to tell you.”
“But the police, the doctors…” He names the people who have affirmed fiction.
Eric starts swinging his feet and smiles again, “It sounds stupid, but Y/n’s not a human.”
Juyeon raises one eyebrow.
“She’s a goddess, you fell in love with the love goddess, and she, in you.”
-
Juyeon didn’t believe Eric. The younger stubbornly chased after him when Juyeon simply told him, “That’s ridiculous”. To run around every corner of the apartment, even into Juyeon’s room where Eric lied down beside him and reiterated. When Juyeon still persisted, Eric sighed and went up from the bed and out of Juyeon’s room. Went to his own, before coming back with his phone.
“Look, here she is.”
Juyeon turns to Eric’s screen and sees a selfie, presumably he himself has taken of Eric, himself and a girl at the very end. Juyeon’s own phone falls to his stomach and he leans closer to see the picture.
“When’s this?” He asks.
“This winter, in our old apartment.”
Eric scrolls to the next photo which is taken at the store, when they tried out angel outfits. The photo is clearly centered on Eric in his small wings, but Y/n can be seen to the right laughing in her own costume.
“This one’s good.” Eric laughs and scrolls to the next photo in which Y/n holds the pink box on the platform with Juyeon beside her. He throws an awkward peace sign up with half his hair in his face.
“I don’t remember this.” Juyeon tilts with a half smile and takes the phone from Eric’s hand. The younger one comes down fully on the shared pillow as they go through the pictures from that winter.
“She’s the one you wanted to give the dress to.” Eric says eventually.
“Have you met her since?” Juyeon asks at the last picture of them at new year’s.
Eric shakes his head, “No,” He sighs, “She told me that her mother had found her and that she was only allowed a quick visit to meet me.”
Juyeon nods. As if looking at another life when reversing the pictures. But her face, always in the captured stills from the past, insists a dime of all his sensibilities to tell him he cares. Even as the day passes, her face lives like cathedral windows before him.
-
The moon, lifeless, in shine hanging above the sleeping Earth. It’s been dark for a couple of hours. The sun stays above the city line a second longer for each day that passes.
When no one’s there to verify one's existence, the glass door to the balcony opens. No heavy wind passes through the city streets during this weather, but nonetheless she closes the door back to its frame before taking silent steps against the floor. The shoe material at the tip of her toes makes a pitched sound. Those steps come closer to the left door of two at one wall.
To bring her hand out to the handle without any weight. She lets the shine melt into her own essence before gently forcing it down. Between that space is his room, she stands there for a second to finally see it in all three dimensions. At last, when her eyes trail down the wall details and reach him beneath the soft fabrics. His mere existence is extremely poetic.
He reminds her of the present fragile complexity. How human he makes her feel, she thinks. She brings her hand up to her chest, above the spot of her clothing where underneath all the layers, one can sense the quick pulses. Eventually, she takes a step over the borderline, his features in pale moonlight become all clearer. When he’s so close to her, she hesitantly takes out her hand.
His delicate skin is underneath her fingertips, slowly she pulls them back to her own side. Instead, sits down on the left space beside his hip. The bed sheets crinkles when her weight changes the patterns of the creases. She tilts her head. As if there’s a field drawing them towards each other, she leans over his chest and her face comes as close as it can.
At this mere distance, each of his breath lingers. She had been dying to hear his voice and see his face, but truly her heart aches in bliss when his scent touches her face. It forces her to open closed off memories, may be sun bleached and dust, but it warms her human heart, as a part of him she had forgotten, returns to her. Her hand comes to the side of his pillow as she leans forward. He shifts his head and the beautiful hair scatters in new patterns. That peaceful sensation lasts, until the motions of his head spreads to his eyes and they slowly open.
She immediately backs away, the hand returns to her lap and the sudden motion causes an effect on the rest of the bed. There’s a new emotion in her heart as he forces himself off the mattress and rubs his eye. She is still there, at the edge of his bed, when he looks at her with tired eyes. She wishes for him to fall right back onto the pillow, but he doesn’t, instead he continues to stare at her while the exhaustion from sleep disappears.
She finally stands up from the bed. He looks up at her and trails after when she rushes out of the room. Juyeon is left with his hands on the mattress, blinking a few times, agape his lips.
The person on the bed was a visit from a past life. He nearly wonders if the pictures on Eric’s phone he's been thinking about, might have started haunting him. But there’s a pattern left on the spot where she sat, a real world consequence of her existence.
Juyeon takes the sheets off his body and walks up to the door. The silhouette stands at the outer edge. The glass is against the other wall and her lower body is covered by patterns of metal as she stands with her back against the free fall. A night wind from the moon comes through the open door and touches his warm body. It filtrates the thin fabric of his sleepwear and he takes another step forward. As her right feet disappear beneath the balcony floor, Juyeon speaks.
“Wait!”
The moonlight shines behind her when she turns her eyes from beneath.
He opens mouth and walks closer, “You’re Y/n, right?”
Juyeon takes his right leg higher to pass the doorstep elevation before the cold hard floor of the balcony. She’s leaning with both her hands on the railing which causes her to come in greater height than Juyeon. With still a meter between them, Juyeon looks up to her and asks again.
“You’re Y/n?”
The scene is rather overwhelming for her. Only in imagination has she continued seeing those moon made eyes and voice that causes spring to reach the very isolated, cold corners of her heart. None of the human vocabularies she has learned feels acceptable to answer him with, none withstand the level of adoration her heart feels. So at last, to open up to conversation with him one more time, Y/n nods her head.
As she blinks, the nods become faster, “Yeah, it’s me.”
For the first time, after a season, she sees him smile again, “Hi, Y/n.”
She breathes out and smiles too, “Hi, Juyeon.” Though, she tilts her head and observes the highlights caused from the moon on his face.
“How do you know my name?”
A wind passes them, “Eric told me.” He breathes, “He told me you were a goddess, that you saved my life that day when the police came.”
Y/n looks down for a second, still smiling, “Eric couldn’t keep it in, right?”
“He’s pretty indiscreet. Though I guess you already know that?”
Y/n nods.
There’s a passage of silence while a car drives down the street below them. Juyeon hasn’t taken his eyes off her for even a second, trying to place where in his heart she occupied space and if, when they stand together again, the doors will open again for her.
“Where were you?” He asks which makes Y/n look at him again, “All of spring?”
“With my mother.” She nods slowly, “I’m receiving my punishment…” Y/n looks down before smiling. Yet, she looks as if forced to improvise, he thinks“...I’m allowed to visit Earth more often though, I have an apartment here now.” She pauses, “So I’m at least free from that place.”
Juyeon tilts his head, “Punishment?”
“I escaped Olympus, I interfered a lot with human relationships…” She nods with ocean-heavy-eyes, “My mother was pretty angry.”
Juyeon listens attentively when Y/n trails her eyes away and picks at her fingers.
“You don’t remember, but I did fall in love with you back then. Changed your fate from the disease which I shouldn't have.” She looks down, the smile has slowly vanished with the wind, “So I am forever destined to love you unrequited.” She says as if turning home.
The last sentence falling from her lips, causes a permanent block in whatever way was left in his heart. Like winter comes back in a second, deep frost structures his cathedral heart.
“Unrequited?” He repeats.
Y/n nods, “I will never be able to love anyone else. And you, will never love me.”
Juyeon blinks, “Don’t you have powers?”
Y/n smiles again, laughs a little as she takes an arrow from behind her back. For the first time since he saw her eyes, something else falls in center. The sharp edge shines off the left side from the silver light. He realizes as he looks at it, that it is the same edge that must have struck him.
“I’ll die if I use it and the same on you.” Y/n takes the sharp end against his arm. Juyeon brings it closer to his chest as the edge makes a white mark on his skin before it springs back in color. Y/n lowers her head and the arrow disappears behind her back, as mysteriously as it came.
Juyeon looks at his arm. There’s nothing equivalent in words to describe the slow paced swan song that runs through his veins. But somehow he sees the dejection at the tips of her lips and it shares like grief in his heart. He doesn’t know why, but at last he speaks those words that die to come out in the silence.
“I’m sorry.”
Y/n tilts her head, laughs softly before speaking, “Why are you apologizing?”
“I don’t know.” Juyeon scratches the back of his head, “I wish I didn’t have to leave you to love alone.”
Y/n shakes her head, “Even if you didn’t forget me and everything else, my love would have outlived you by a hundred years.” She pauses and looks at him, like described out of a mythology, “Our love was never destined to be forever.”
Despite standing before each other once again, there’s an undeniable distance. Y/n ‘s heart that desperately longs for Juyeon’s, but there is no lost place. There’s no use in trying. The universe has created an eternal absence, pulling them miles apart even when they’re here, at the same time in the same place. How tragically, he thinks.
“But…I wasn’t punished?” Juyeon knits his eyebrows.
“I mean, kind of.” Y/n says gently, “Though, not in the way I am.”
“But I don’t understand, what was my punishment?”
“Guilt.”
Juyeon tilts his head, “Guilt?”
She smiles weakly, “Cause you’re a good person, Juyeon.” And it slowly fades, “Only good people die with guilt.”
He looks down onto the cold floor of the balcony. There’s tragedy in marrow, cruelly hurts when she thinks of the eternity waiting for her. How the adoration for him will simply not mature. How her heart will search for him, far and wide, even when he’s no longer here.
Y/n swallows, “Anyways,” She shakes her head to let a strand fall beside her face. Her voice tears Juyeon’s eyes up from the floor, “You told me before I saved you…” She pauses to let another wind pass them by.
“...that you loved me. But I never said it back.”
Y/n looks down from the railing, locks eyes again. She reaches deep within, to find maybe even a fragment of him that will remember those words.
“So I want to tell you that I love you too, Juyeon. Not because I’m punished to, but because you loved in a way no one else has done.” She breathes out, “I didn’t quite understand love back then, I couldn’t understand humans,” She smiles weakly, “even when I wanted to save you and you said no, I couldn’t grip my head around why you didn’t want to be saved.” He looks at the goddess with vast eyes when the moonlight is at its brightest behind her.
“But now, when I’m forever punished loving you, I still think that I wouldn’t want it any other way.” She says, “I want to love sincerely even when you don’t love me.”
The lips of his mouth form a faint gape. The reflection of the moon in the left center pupil fades and returns like it's pulsing. He waits for a spark, a falling star or even a firework, but the night stands as still as it always does. Though, with the sincere words she gives him, he wishes there’s a part in his heart that receives it, that can fully comprehend the words she so gently tells him.
Another car passes by and Y/n looks down the detailed street in lights. Her hand comes up before making a sound on the metal railing.
“Well, I think that was all.” The smile she gives him comes as if perfectly out of the photo on Eric’s phone, “Thank you, Juyeon. I’ll protect you and Eric from the bad things, you've been through enough.” She once again takes a foot down the balcony.
“Wait-”
Y/n looks up as he pushes the glass door open again and disappears into the room. Still halfway down, Y/n tries to perceive his shadow behind the frame. Only struggles of doors and paper can be heard from her distance, but at last, Juyeon comes out again. He holds a black paper box with his two hands.
“I don’t remember, but Eric told me I wanted to give this to you on New Year’s, but I never got the chance to.”
Y/n comes up again, reaches her hands out but hesitantly takes them back a centimeter. Juyeon smiles delicately and pushes the box closer to her. To open the lid, he sees her expression fade into brilliance. As if sunrise has come above the horizon, he tilts his head and smiles too. The distance destined between them refuses to let him fully comprehend the gift, but truthfully when she lifts it up, a pure bliss rushes through him.
“You brought it?” Y/n holds the top part of the dress as those burnt memories return.
“Apparently,” He smiles.
As she pulls the fabric a bit higher, a piece of paper reveals itself underneath. Y/n takes her other hand and folds open the letter.
Happy New Year’s, Y/n!
You looked really pretty in that dress so I wanted to give it to you. If I ask you out now, I hope you will wear it.
Love, Juyeon
She reads it over and over until it means visually nothing and ocean edges on her eyes. The choir of lovers that sing in her lone marrow, how each word tears at her strings deeply, “Thank you, Juyeon, thank you.” They shine as she looks back up.
She puts the letter into the box again and closes the lid.
“I’ll treasure it forever, I promise. “
He smiles because she now knows it wasn’t always unrequited. That the mourn and loss wasn’t all for nothing. Though, still in melancholy cause he can’t help her like she saved him. Amidst everything in silence, Juyeon’s eyes widen.
“Oh, I nearly forgot. Eric’s graduation is tomorrow,""do you want to come?”
“Are you sure?” Y/n hesitates.
“Of course.” He smiles, “I think he missed you.”
At those words, she finally nods, embraces the box a bit closer, “Then, I’ll come!”
“Great, meet me on this street at ten tomorrow morning, okay?”
Y/n nods and takes a step down.
“I think you should use the stairs.” Juyeon leans over the railing.
“Oh, right.”
“Eric!”
He turns when his name, pronounced deja vu inducing extreme, trails the high ceiling. The friends in circle stops talking and almost instantly, he recognizes her silhouette, that can overthrow the world, in the crowd.
“Y/n!” The paper in his hands withers off when he meets her halfway there. She closes her eyes when he’s under her arms again. The black suit he has on scratches against her arms. Y/n tells him he’s the most handsome she has ever seen him. She ruffles his head when they let go. Eric would have sulked but couldn't when he had missed her so deeply.
Juyeon came up too and soon after his girlfriend walked through the entrance. Y/n, though, struck her heart that night after Juyeon, didn’t have a chance to see her. As she stood real before her, she smiled fondly and introduced herself. Her tender heart, molten because of the lovers. Though as the two turn to walk down the entrance, and their traces leave Eric Y/n, her cursed soul starts to mourn.
She thinks; if I told you my world stopped when I saw you. You wouldn’t have believed me. You should have known by then that the heaven’s lies in my palms and when you said my name, angels heard it echo.
They say nothing truly disappears, that it just changes. Then, she hopes that if she shouts his name into the black void, it’ll come back to him as an echo. That if she believes in love, help people over the street, pet cats and water her plants, that all that love will reach him someday, in some form.
She hopes, if she lives on, worshiped in history, that if her name gets spoken in the far future, his will too. When we believe there’s nothing left to be made holy, she sincerely begs to tell this tale, to any lovers, that’s left alive.
» PAIRING: tbz kim sunwoo x fem!reader
» TROPE/AU: established relationship au, marriage au, non-idol au
» GENRE: suggestive!!!!, little fluffy fluff at the end (and the start), flirty kim sunwoo, sunwoo is a sweetheart who makes you blush, sunwoo who lends you his clothes to sleep
» WORD COUNT: 2594
» ESTIMATED READING TIME: 10 mins
» WARNINGS (lmk if i missed anything!): suggestive!!!!, lowkey (?) domsunwoo, pet names (princess, bubs) because sunwoo can't control himself, a ton of kissing leading to a make-out session...in bed..., hickies (reader receiving) because s*nwoo can't control himself, pretty...thin walls, almost getting caught...by their child, you both are very much in love
navi/masterlist!! 🤍
hmmm...HMMMM---
thank you for beta reading @daisyvisions @justalildumpling and @winterchimez for reading and helping me with the warning sections!! 💕
You don’t know anyone with as much energy as you and Sunwoo at the break of sunrise.
“Sunwoo!” You lift your legs to your stomach, stifling your laughs down by clasping your hands over your mouth, “Wait wait wa—”
In response, your husband did everything but your request, continuing to bury you both underneath the white duvet and tickling the sides of your body, “I’m not the one that’s going to wake our little princess up!” He responds between your kicks and squeals, your happiness radiating back to him.
Just a few minutes ago in the warm morning, you still slept soundly in your bed with Sunwoo. Your face hid from the moonlight at night and the sunlight in the morning by pressing your forehead near his collarbone, and Sunwoo would keep you there with his hand on the back of your head. Sunwoo’s other arm snakes below the side of your waist on the bed and his hand on your lower back brings you intimately closer to him, caging you in his loving embrace. You, very much enjoying being the small spoon, had both your hands on his chest, occasionally clenching his loose shirt in your sleep to subconsciously confirm to yourself that your husband was still near you. Sometimes, when your hands would hold onto his material so hard to the point where the backside of the collar tugs him awake, he would dip his head down and kiss your eyelids, nose, forehead, and cheek before finally landing on your lips softly and comfortingly to make you relax back into your sleep.
Closer to the current time, Sunwoo wakes up to the unusually loud chirping of the birds outside the window behind him. However, his frown and frustrations all disappear when he sees his wife still sleeping soundly beside him. No one would be able to fully understand the amount of love that Sunwoo holds for you. Ever since you took his hand in marriage, waking up next to you quickly became his second favourite, most cherished, most anticipated thing that he would look forward to; a far second to your kisses and the way you kiss him lovingly each time. On the days when one of you would be too worn out from the day’s activities, your body would give up first. Even though it hurt to be going to sleep alone on the cold and big bed, you both knew that at some point in the night, the ‘I love you’ whispers directed at each other would never fail to put a smile on your faces.
“Hmmm…” Your husband hums to himself, closing his eyes once more and pulls you closer to him. His smile widened at your shampoo's familiar scent, and he couldn’t help but press his lips to yours, “Bubs.”
The deep giggles from across you finally made your eyelids lift, your eyes still squinting from both the light and the tiredness that is still in your system. You groan at the continuous kisses that started from your plump lips, now trailing up to the tip of your nose, your eyelids and back down to your jawline. The way you would attempt to hide your blush by turning over to the other side would be the start of the early morning chaoticness between you both.
Going back to the first dialogue, Sunwoo resorted to tickling you, still pressing light kisses to every part of your exposed skin that his shirt failed to cover properly. It started from your face, collarbone to your shoulder, and you continued to try to contain your laughter to avoid waking up your daughter in the nearby room. You tried to reason with Sunwoo to let you out of this situation alive, using your child as an excuse, but your husband only smirks more at your useless attempt.
After all the tossing and turning in the bed, you were clearly out of breath, unlike Sunwoo who undoubtedly still had more energy to get some radiant chuckles to escape from your pretty lips—to listen to your voice that he loves so dearly and very much. Managing to finally get a break, you lay flat on the bed. Needless to say, your hair is a mess all over the mattress, some over your face which Sunwoo lightly sways away. There were no more signs of playfulness in your husband’s eyes, especially not with the way he crossed one leg over your frame, his knees now directly next to your hip bones, trapping your lower body as he looked at you with longingness and love.
Sunwoo just smiles at your beautiful face and his hand automatically slides up from your hips, lifting the cotton material to place his veiny hand on your stomach. “Bubs.” He finally breathes out when you manage to hold his hands, your thumbs soothingly caressing the back of his hands in response.
“Hmm?” The skin contact from the pads of his fingers starting from your shoulder is barely recognisable but you are aware of how he eventually reaches your tired arms on the side of your body. Still keeping eye contact with you, Sunwoo feels the wedding ring on your hand, caressing the diamond he worked so hard for. It’s proof of his love and physical promise that he will stay with you until your last breaths, and the simpler, silver band around his finger that lays on your exposed stomach, is your love and promise to him.
The scene, the way that Sunwoo looks down at you at this moment, is highly familiar. It was the same look he gave you on the night of your honeymoon. The memory flashes through your mind, the light pink blush sweeping on the surface of your cheeks, and your heart beats erratically. Amused at the effect that he had on you, Sunwoo raises one eyebrow, simultaneously on the same half of his face, the corner of his lips lifting as well. A surge of confidence overflows you, grabbing both of Sunwoo’s hands without warning. Sunwoo didn’t back away from your figure, watching carefully at the way your pretty lips parted to let out a soft moan and a ‘good morning, handsome.’ greeting. Not long after, you closed the gap between your mouths, not to kiss him, but to feverishly run your tongue across his bottom, plump lip.
“Sunwoo…” Your voice calls out to him after and he uses a bit of force to tear your hands apart to intertwine your fingers with his, lunging forward to push you back on the mattress and pinning your hands up next to your shoulders.
“God, I love you so much.” Before you could even repeat the same words to him, Sunwoo dives into the crook of your neck and you whimper in pleasure when you feel the surface of your skin between his teeth, “Is this alright?”
You shut your eyes first before mumbling an answer, “M-Mhm.” It motivates Sunwoo to further paint your skin in the shape of his lips. The satisfying feeling makes you squirm under his unrelenting but still gentle touch. You whimper further as a response, your fingers tightening and your toes curling. When Sunwoo’s mouth lands on your left collarbone, you would tilt your head to the right, automatically giving him access that he gratefully accepted.
“Do you remember this?” Sunwoo manages to gasp out, his warm breath hitting your now slightly wet skin due to his intense feelings, “The night that you vowed to be mine. The physical marks that you couldn’t fully get rid of for two whole weeks.”
How could you ever forget?
Thankfully, there was no need to wake up earlier or use makeup as your blouses always covered the evidence. Thankfully, Sunwoo was also nice enough to keep it within an area that would be easily covered with most of your wardrobe outfits—minus the spaghetti straps and lower neckline dresses which would drive him absolutely wild.
Sunwoo remembers all the marks that he made around your chest and neck area on that night because he’s thought about it: he wanted to place the marks that would just be hidden behind your work clothes but just enough that when you both were back home, the lightest tug would reveal the masterpiece that you let him put the night(s) before. The strategic plan made it easy for Sunwoo to recreate the marks and for you to focus on the parts of your skin that he is focusing on and will focus on.
But this time, it was harsher, more passionate, more loving. Sunwoo has been craving this moment with you, and even after he finished making his usual marks, he continued to trail upwards where he knew you would mewl and gasp at his touch. The new sensation knocks the air from your lungs and you desperately beg for Sunwoo to continue his act.
You cannot believe that a second ago, you thought you were completely out of breath. Because if the earlier events really did make you feel out of breath, then you didn’t know how to describe this one.
“Bubs.” You took note of the series of exhales on your neck that slowly but surely calmed down. Even with your eyes still shut, you can still make out the shadow above you, “You alright?” Sunwoo releases his hold on both of your hands, relocating his palms on the sides of your neck, caressing the underside of your jawline and a longer, passionate kiss that muffles the remnants of your deeper pants from before.
“More than alright, love.” When you open your eyes, the darker look in his eyes from earlier is completely gone. Now, only heart-shaped sparkles reflected the windows of his soul and you would both argue to each other that the other was the reason who put them there, “Are you alright?”
“Of course I am.” Sunwoo’s face closes in on yours once again, leaning his slightly wet bangs on your exposed forehead—it’s obvious that you both couldn’t get enough of each other. The anterior side of his forearm rests next to your face to properly balance his weight as he admires his wife. His other palm cups your still-warm cheek, “How could I not be when I have the smartest, kindest, prettiest and sexiest woman here? And guess what?” He buries his fingers underneath your hair strands, “She’s mine.”
“You’re such a flirt.”
“You love it.”
“You’re right.” Slowly wrapping your hands around Sunwoo’s neck, you pull him to give an innocent kiss, “I love you.”
You allowed the calming atmosphere to fill you both, tilting Sunwoo’s head to lean his still-warm forehead on yours, the tips of your noses rubbing against each other as you both smile gleefully. The birds continued to sing their songs to each other, most probably waking up your neighbours and any houses with thin walls like your own.
“Mumma!”
The couple quickly scrambles at the distressed screaming. The father jumps back on the bed, scurrying to hide his body inside the blanket with widened eyes on the freshly made marks that were growing darker and more evident by the second, “B-Bubs, your neck.”
Your hands fly to your collarbone, your own eyes wide at the realisation, “Oh shit.” Both of you knew that there wasn’t much that you could do, so you just opted for the fastest, but unfortunately nowhere secure, way of hiding the remnants by pulling the back of Sunwoo’s shirt to make the front neckline higher until it reached the base of your neck. You sat down on the excess fabric that you made to secure the new neckline in place, just in time for your four-year-old to burst through the door.
When your only child finally steps into the room with hurried steps, you take notice of her white fist around the bunny ear of her favourite plush. The snot runs down her nose and her reddened philtrum tells the couple that she has been wiping her nose for a while. The light grey fabric of the raccoon onesie that she had been matching with your husband now looked darker as the waterfall from her eyes continued to fall onto the fabric. The evidence of the stress that the younger girl showed to her parents made you both gasp in surprise.
Sunwoo springs into action quickly, kneeling in front of his daughter to get to her eye level, “What’s wrong, princess?” He takes hold of her shoulders, gently applying some pressure to make his presence known to his little girl, “Did you have a nightmare?”
She only nods furiously as a response, leaping forward for comfort in her dad’s arms. The bunny hits the back of Sunwoo’s head due to the force of the little girl’s arm swing, “I-I think there is a monster in the room! I heard mumma scream!” She wails, her shuddering lips pressed onto the top of Sunwoo’s shoulder.
“Oh no no no, baby.” Sunwoo soothes your daughter who continues to let out broken wails and cries, drenching his shoulder in the process, “T-That wasn’t what you thought it was.” His heart swells. On one part, it was the admiration of the fact his daughter loves his wife. The other part was the nervousness that the thin walls did not keep the privacy of his acts within their four walls. “Plus, dadda won’t let anything happen to mumma.” He pushes the thought away for now, hearing the bed creaking behind him, “See, look?” With this indication, your daughter lifts her head to see you approaching the little family not too far away from bed.
You still had one hand behind your back to pull the shirt. But, you made it to the little huddle, tucking the shirt under your thighs before kneeling beside Sunwoo and running your hand over your daughter’s back. “Mumma is alright, baby.” You spread your arms open and your daughter lets go of her dad to run straight into her mum’s chest.
You readjust the heartwarming position by wrapping an arm around your daughter’s waist, tilting her body to the side and quickly tucking your hand behind her knees, letting her sit down on your own two knees as comfortably as you can, “A-Are you really okay?”
The arm around her waist is now around her shoulder to make sure her body doesn’t slip down from yours. “I really am okay, baby. Thank you so much for worrying about me.” You continue to reassure her, pinching her cheek and successfully putting a wide smile back on her face.
Sunwoo sighs out in relief, the deep exhale from his body gaining your attention. From the corner of his eyes, he sees your frown and the disapproving shake of your head. In response, his lips inaudibly moved in all kinds of shapes and sizes, and his hands flew around in the air to emphasise that he was just as stressed as you were. You squint your eyes in response, your pupils darting to the four walls that made your bedroom, and Sunwoo nods in defeat as he understands fully what you mean.
You thought it was all over, the sun bright and happy along with your now composed family. But it was just the nature of children to be curious about everything they see. Your daughter speaks up once again, asking about the now bright red prints on your collarbone, even pointing to the ones visible to her. Sunwoo responded to her act first, cursing under his breath when your wide eyes met his mischievous smile.
“Kim Sunwoo!”
navi/masterlist!! 🤍
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