#the boyz x y/n
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❥six-thirty (m)
↳ sunwoo is just a friend. A friend with a fire-hot possessive streak.
kim sunwoo x fem!reader — friends with benefits, explicit sexual content [2,5k wc] cws: penetrative sex (unprotected), possessiveness, rough sex, a lot of dirty talking, praise, a drop of humiliation.
“Just tell him to fuck off already!”
You pretend to be taken aback by the words in spite of you doing everything in your power to bring the man to this point of contention — a friends with benefits situation going on for far longer than any of the other ones have lasted, but hey, what can you say?
Sunwoo happens to be a bit more fun than the rest.
His voice whiny and exasperated as he dramatically tosses, turns and kicks his feet in your bed like a toddler; under typical circumstances a far from enticing display, but from him, you know what it means for you to get him upset like this.
And shortly after tiring from his fit, Sunwoo makes quick work of snuggling up from behind you — chest pressed against your back and chin comfortably nestled between your shoulder and your neck as he showers the exposed skin with delicate kisses. Phone still in hand, you dim the screen as you feel him creep up — partially, because there’s nothing to be seen there, anyway, but mostly because you know doing so will make him feel crazy.
It’s a point of contention, sure, his jealous-streak, but more than that, it makes the sex fucking spectacular.
“Why are you even talking to him right now when you’re with me?” He finally asks, opting out of the previous demand and instead slinking back into his usual role — a pointed knee pressing between your legs in an effort to part them just slightly as his hand begins its anticipated journey down the side of you and between your legs from over your hip.
“Oh, but he’s just a friend.”
A playful quip back to him as you turn your head just slight enough that he can see your attempt at making eye contact. The scoff escaping from his plump lips telling enough that you’re triumphant in precisely what it is that you’re aiming for.
“I’m just a friend, too.”
“So, why are you so possessive then?”
“Because! It makes me crazy thinking about you being with other men! Why do you even need other men—” pausing then as his middle finger finally meets it’s mark against your clit, and hesitantly drawing slow, dull circles into you as you press your behind back and against his barely clothed form.
What’s wrong with a little jealousy-fueled round two, after all? With both merely in undergarments as is, may as well make the most of the time.
“—who makes you cum like I do? You get me like this so I’ll fuck you sideways, I’m nothing but a pawn to you, huh?”
At face value, the words seem more pointed than they are; hot breath fanning over the exposed skin of your arm as he continues trailing his lips across any skin that he can sink his teeth into and still more than focused on the busy work of his hand — surely, if he were really upset, he simply wouldn’t be partaking in any such games.
But suppose the being a pawn works in both of your favors.
“Maybe so, what are you gonna do about it, then?”
A cunning retort, you know it’ll drive him mad.
“I know you want me to say that I’ll fuck you dumb and just have to make it so you never crave another man ever again,” he bemoans against your ear, voice low and heady and simultaneously feeling the way the pressure of his finger against you picks up just that much more as he says the words. Arching your back even more to press yourself against his now ever present erection, the both of you silently opt out of further conversation on the matter in the immediately present tense and instead — Sunwoo with his other hand, gently shimmying his underwear down and out of the way enough to pull his length from the confines of the fabric and press the tip against precisely where you want him to be, it’s only then, than he finally decides you worthy of a continuation of the thought.
“So, I won’t say it. I’ll just have to do it.”
With the hand between your legs, pulling your hips back and towards him as he effectively uses the leverage to push you down and onto his cock all over again — the sinful sigh that eventually transforms into a groan against your ear as he feels you envelop him — you meet him there, having received exactly what it was that you had set out to achieve; a pitiful whimper dropping from your lips at the feeling of him filling so you completely as his hips meet flush against your ass with an excruciating slow drive.
Stilling inside of you, Sunwoo drags his hand up the front of you — lingering slightly on your breast to gently pinch and run circles into the nub as he kisses and nips at the flesh of your neck and jaw so hungrily it’s as if he has intent to devour you entirely — shortly thereafter, the continued journey upwards as his hand settles on the underside of your chin, pulling your face up to grant him better, easier access to previously untouched skin there.
Sucking and biting marks into you, he finally pulls his hips back slowly only to press forward just as leisurely as he had previously. Torturous, and of course it is — just as intended.
It’s sort of what makes sex with him so good.
A languid, slow rhythm against you, offering such little friction that you feel as though your mind may numb from the want and need of more of him — faster, harder, more, more, more.
Shifting the placement of his hand ever so slightly, from your dazed, needy state you feel the tapping of his middle finger against your lips and almost instinctively you part them for entry — Sunwoo quickly sheathing two of them against your tongue and groaning at the sensation of you tightly closing your mouth around them as if so painfully hungry for his cock in any way that even just having this will have to do, for now.
“You’re so mean to me,” he finally says with words that are half air. “Tease me, get me all upset with you just so I’ll fuck you — you know, you can just ask nicely.”
With a face stuffed full of him, you only moan in response. Well aware of your inability to answer him, he carries on the discussion as if speaking only to himself.
“If you were nice, I’d fuck you nicer, too—”
Pressing his hand further towards the back of your throat, you feel the familiar sensation of your eyes beginning to water before he grants you quick reprieve.
“—but you don’t want that, do you?”
It’s such a small shift in speed that you might not notice it if not painstakingly hungry for the release that you know will eventually be granted to you — now hyper aware of every movement he makes from behind you in any effort to get more friction from the cock buried inside of you — another whimper spilling from between his fingers at it, to which, Sunwoo can only laugh.
“When did you get so needy? But, I suppose—”
Drawing from you nearly entirely only to fully sheath himself inside of you again with a fast snap of his hips — impact so hard it has you jutting forward against the mattress as he does so — Sunwoo finally frees his other arm from the awkwardness of the position to bring it up and fold a hand into your hair. Not especially hard, and not with intent to hurt all that much, but rather, a familiar sting that lets you know that he’s there.
And then suddenly, the removal of his fingers from between your lips, hand back to its firm position at the place where your chin and throat meet.
Hot breath against your ear again, then another hard, quick drive of himself into you. You can’t help but cry out in response to it.
A man not known to be a domineering, or violent lover — but rather, a man who likes to stake his claim on what he sees as his.
“How d'you want me?”
A question coming a bit out of left field: The inquiry in and of itself relatively innocuous between lovers, but when pulled apart to be viewed in layers — ‘how do you want to receive me?’ — the understanding that he be the one giving himself to you, rather that alternatively, or even beyond that — perhaps it be both simultaneously.
You don’t answer quick enough for his liking, however, now well into playing his role. Fingers just ever so faintly digging harder into your hair to entice you to respond — your lust-filled mind instead honed in on the perfect drag of his cock and the way that his breath catches in his throat with every glide into you. Pulling it together enough to give it what it is that he’s searching for — you do what you can, but it’s not much.
“F-fuck me from behind.”
“Yeah,” he huffs out, already halfway through pulling himself from between your legs as if he anticipated the answer all along. Which he had. “Thought so.”
Quick with his work as he pushes you forward and brings himself to his knees just behind you, hands dipping down to your hips and pulling them up to meet his own — leaning forward to pull each arm back and clasped within a hand like makeshift handcuffs as he uses the other to carefully position himself for reentry.
The whole thing happening in a span of what you can only fathom to be ten seconds or less.
Balancing yourself on your chest and shoulders with no hands for leverage otherwise as your head is forced to be turned back for what little of him you can visualize, once again the slow, smooth slip of him entering you from behind, but with the new angle feeling fuller, longer — more of him entirely as he’s painfully slow with bottoming out inside of you.
“Feel good?”
You hate that he’s asking, largely due to the fact that the ability to speak is not one that comes easily to you now, but you also know that to be highly in part why it is that he’s doing so.
Intent to wreck you. Destroy you. Not with aggression, or violence, but rather with attention to detail, pleasure, and hopefully, the insatiable need to have no one but him inside of you ever again.
“Already can’t talk?” He teases, quickly settling into a steady pace against you as he holds you firmly in place with your hands pressed into the small of your back and whimpering with every drive of his cock into you. “You’re so pretty like this, God, you take me so well. Come on, baby, tell me how good I feel.”
It’s far more mental for Sunwoo than it is physical.
“You feel so good, so good.” You finally manage out, for his sake — gathering enough mental fortitude to string a sentence together for the man since you know he needs it so badly.
He likes the praise just as much as you do.
Groaning at the words and the confirmation even more so with an especially hard few snaps of his hips into you — you kind of hate how easy it is for him to make you cum, but also, it’s sort of why you’ve kept him around this long, after all. Tightening in your abdomen, you whimper out his name just enough for him to catch onto — he knows the signal, free hand darting down to between your legs to rub against your clit with the flat of his fingers.
The feeling nearly has your knees buckling then and there, but not with his hold onto you.
“Gonna cum, baby?”
“Fuck, yes, don’t stop—” you say, coming out as a bit more like a demand than intended, but knowing it probably gets him going all the same, who cares, really?
“This what you wanted? So needy and pathetic to have me fuck you into the mattress like this? Now you’re making demands?”
Oops.
“Can’t wait to make a mess of you,” he says, first slowing the intensity of his thrusts to allow a small, trailing of saliva to drip from his mouth to the precise place in which his cock disappears inside of you before slowly at first carrying on again. “Messy, nasty, baby, but all for me.”
Mentally, it does a bit of a number on you. More than anticipated, and you know that he can feel the way your muscles clench down around his length as he settles back into his hard and fast drive into you. Moaning at the feeling, Sunwoo can’t help but comment on it — “Oh? You like that, huh? You want me to ruin you, don’t you?”
The 'yes’ falls from your lips before you even have a shot at pulling it back for reconsideration.
Grip on your wrists tightening that much more, Sunwoo pulls you firmer back and against his hips, fingers digging harder circles against your clit to finally push you into your orgasm. It’s certainly working as he fucks you harder than before, fuller thrusts as he pulls nearly entirely from your drenched cunt to deliver back the complete glide of his cock to you.
“Cum on my cock. I’ll give you what you want.”
Not sure if it’s the physicality of everything, the sinful throatiness to his voice, the words themselves, or everything combined that has the simple demand pulling exactly that from you — thighs quivering and teeth gritted as you whine and shout through the intensity of your high — Sunwoo all the while fucking you through its totality. Over the peak and tailing towards the come down is when he cums with a loud groan and a few extra hard and rough snaps of his hips. Whispered chants of “gonna cum, gonna cum, fuck—” before burying himself so deep into you it nearly brings discomfort as he empties his load.
Heavy breaths resounding through the room as the both of you slowly come back down from your euphoric releases, Sunwoo gently pulling his softening length from you with a wince of overstimulation — only to watch in awe as his cum messily spills from you as you lazily remain in your assumed position.
“You better tell me if you let another guy cum inside of you,” he begins, and at first, the words set off a particular set of alarm bells in your head. Alarms that say 'this isn’t part of the game,’ and 'this is getting a bit too serious,’ before you feel long, adept fingers fucking his work right back into from where it had left.
“Because I’ll fuck my load into your already cum-filled cunt, too.”
♡ send me your thoughts and feelings in my ask (⌒‿⌒)
—this is a oneshot, there will be no part 2.
#sunwoo smut#sunwoo x you#sunwoo x reader#sunwoo x y/n#sunwoo imagines#sunwoo scenarios#sunwoo fanfic#the boyz smut#the boyz x reader#the boyz x you#the boyz x y/n#the boyz scenarios#the boyz imagines#the boyz fanfic#tbz smut#tbz x reader#tbz x you#tbz x y/n#tbz fanfic#tbz#tbz scenarios#tbz imagines
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cece’s note repost from my other account pt. one so if u think uve seen this u probably have lmao ‧ pairing jacob bae x reader ‧ genre user ceebit smut debut… ‧ wc pls don’t ask me questions i can’t answer
“keep your eyes ahead. you know i don’t like repeating myself.”
you’re trying. and you know he knows, eyes trained on your every move for the past hour, but his words still bite. a whimper falls past your lips, low in sound as you fight to keep from looking away.
because the sight in front of you is sinful. his smile his faint, expression easygoing as always, but the more your gaze travels downward, the more the coil just below your stomach threatens to snap. your following exhale is broken, and he hums something soft in acknowledgment.
his shirt brushes against bare skin and you’re reminded about the state of your undress—and you look away from the mirror with something akin to embarrassment. jacob tuts lowly, lips brushing just shy of your ear when he frowns, and sighs quietly.
“you never learn,” he mutters, free hand moving to gently turn your head back forward. “what am i going to do with you?”
you sniffle quietly, lips parted to give some kind of an answer you think he might be willing to accept, but his fingers curl right when you take a breath and you lungs wheeze out something strangled instead.
“that’s new,” he notes, pleasant surprise written across his features. your head spins and spins and spins. “didn’t know you could do that.” do it again, is the underlying meaning, and a few tears slide down your cheeks.
you know he doesn’t mean to make you cry. jacob is far from the kind to even exude any kind of anger towards you—patience personified, you sometimes claim—but to put toying with your emotions behind closed doors beneath him? his touch deliberate even in front of others?
you’ve made that mistake more than once. he’s right, you know. you haven’t learned, but he’s more than happy to push and prode and take until it sticks.
“close—please.” voice warbled, fresh tears fill your waterline the more his relentless pace keeps up. he only hums faintly in response, seemingly amused by your weak attempts at closing your legs. “can i—i need—”
“go ahead.”
your body sags against his with relief, nails digging into his arms as words you’re sure are well off coherency spill past your lips. static buzzes in your ears against the heightened feeling of denied orgasms past—god, please the only thing you hear your voice turned hoarse plead almost pathetically.
he takes pity on you. like he always does, thumb swiping over your clit the same moment his lips brush against your neck, grazing the skin ever so softly, and oh—something white hot lights a spark up your entire spine. you think you might be crying but you can’t feel anything but his hands and the slow expanse of your lungs desperately trying to suck in air.
“pretty,” he coos, voice low at a whisper, and you can only duck your head and try to catch your breath.
previous work : someday, l. hyunjae
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#shua’s archive#olesse no one perceive Me.#tbz x reader#tbz x you#tbz x y/n#tbz smut#jacob bae#jacob x reader#jacob x you#jacob x y/n#tbz#the boyz x reader#the boyz x you#the boyz x y/n#the boyz smut#jacob smut
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To celebrate my recent membership @deoboyznet I’ll be writing a ot11 series.
These fics are the stories of how The Boyz met the one and only YOU!
I will try to have more gender identity inclusive fics in the future, but for now, unfortunately these fics are only x fem reader but there isn’t any description of race and little to no mention of physical appearance other than clothing.
Each fic will come with their own warnings.
Last but not least I am so excited to present to you the fics!
Raspberry Tea
Cashier Jacob x Reader
Jacob Bae works night shift at a convenience store and every night at the same time a mysterious girl comes in and buys two bottles of raspberry tea. Usually when she comes in they only exchange a few greetings but tonight is different.
Pup Primp Palace
Younghoon x Reader
Every month Younghoon takes his dog bori to a groomer but when his usual groomer closes, he’s forced to go to another groomer by the name of Pup Primp Palace. After a grooming session Younghoon realizes his dog has taken quite the liking to a particular groomer.
That Nurse
Jaehyun x Nurse Reader
While ice skating Lee Jaehyun slips and sprains his wrist. After being transported to the hospital he meets a nurse. A very pretty nurse.
Please go to part three for the rest.
Tag list
@a-dream-bookmark
#the boyz sangyeon#the boyz juyeon#the boyz jacob#the boyz kevin#the boyz fanfic#the boyz kpop#the boyz fic#the boyz imagines#the boyz scenarios#the boyz#the boyz haknyeon#the boyz hyunjae#the boyz sunwoo#the boyz chanhee#the boyz changmin#the boyz headcanons#the boyz x reader#the boyz x you#the boyz x y/n
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perfect for you | the boyz choi chanhee | new
“Will you trust me even if I break you?”
» PAIRING: tbz choi chanhee (new) x fem!reader
» TROPE/AU: established relationship au!, non-idol au!
» GENRE: smut 18+ (mdni!!) 🔞 fluffy sex, chanhee is a really caring and attentive boyfriend
» WORD COUNT: 2263
» ESTIMATED READING TIME: ~9 mins
» WARNINGS (lmk if i missed anything!): soft dom!chanhee, sub!reader, pet names (baby girl), marking (reader receiving), fingering, clit stimulation, piv sex, creampie, sex on table, praising (chanhee to reader), slight dirty talking (chanhee to reader), not proofread
navi/masterlist!! 🤍
happy birthday @sanaxo-o!! a bit (a LOT! 😭) rushed but i hope you find a way to enjoy this 😘
"Chanhee!"
It's a usual occurrence for your boyfriend to sneak up behind you and give you a big, warm hug. His chuckle that can be heard after your exclamation, and the way he wraps both his arms around your shoulder always undoubtedly made you feel like the happiest girl in the whole wide world.
"Come to bed." He whispers next to your left ear with a whine after, "I don't want to sleep without you."
"I will." You directed your attention back to the neatly stacked pile of books. You are so ready to push all these smelly, slightly brown, definitely creased-up pages in preparation for your final economics exam tomorrow, "I just finished."
Before you can even push the book even further away from your body, another arm pushes it away first. "Good." No more words were said after because he flips you around and steals a kiss from your lips. Chanhee catches you by your right upper arm when you stumble slightly at his actions, smiling fondly at your flustered state. "I got you, don't worry."
You chuckle, breaking the kiss for a bit, "You've always got me since day one."
Another chuckle is heard from his lips before he leans down to you once again, closing the gap between his hungry lips and your still innocent one immediately. It continues passionately and you can tell that he intends to keep it that way for a lot longer. The way his slender hands cup your cheeks delicately unlike how his tongue swipes your bottom lip leaves you gasping incoherent words straight down his throat. You couldn’t hold your eyes open any longer, already too lost in the way that Chanhee was physically pouring out all his love to you.
His left hand slithers behind your lower back, crashing your bodies onto each other and you can no longer control how your knees shake, the same way your lips tremble whenever he pulls away to give you some more oxygen to inhale. You would have hit the floor if it wasn’t for the way his other palm traces along, the tips of his fingers just barely touching the bare skin of the side of your left thigh before putting a bit of force, landing and gripping on the dip of your waist.
“Here?” You whisper between breaths. Between the session, your hands already had a mind of their own, scrunching up the oversized pink sweater that doesn’t even belong to you up to your waist, your underwear already in full view for the dominating eyes who peer down at you with lust.
He pulls away for longer this time, actually putting a bit of a distance between you both. If your cheeks weren’t red enough before, it’s now definitely flaring under his intense gaze, especially with the wet string that still comfortably hung in the air on your bottom lips.
It held your everything, the same way that he has your everything.
“If you’re up for it.”
The way you quickly nod to his invitation is what sends Chanhee’s once soft grip on your arm down straight to your clothed core. He watches thoughtfully at the way you crane your neck backwards, cursing into the warm air. Taking this open opportunity, he moves his fingers painfully slow, particularly finding the wet and darker spot on your pink panties. It sends you squirming and over the edge almost too quickly, your back arching off the counter and he keeps his hand still and lets you moan freely when you push against the tips of his fingers.
“Oh God…”
“Raise your head, bubs. I want to kiss you.”
But you physically can’t. Not with the way he whispers it so seductively and not with the way his index and thumb hook around the crotch of the fabric that keeps on getting damper as time passes by. Chanhee didn’t need to know anymore, knowing well that your body couldn’t hold on for any longer, desperate for a release to take place—for him though, he has other things that he wants to do to you before that.
First, the marks around your clean neck need to be fixed. When he did lean forward so did the way his two fingers underneath you pull the fabric down and release it, slapping your sensitive clit as a result. You couldn’t even scold him for it because your neck suddenly felt cold with the way he ran his tongue on your collarbones and the added little touches and nudges from his nose on the crook of your neck is the reason why you started to tear up.
“Stay still for a bit.”
Knowing very well that you couldn’t though, Chanhee takes it upon himself to place a hand behind your nape, straightening your posture. Oh, how he wished you picked a better outfit for this as well because the neckline of his top is too tight for him to easily expose more skin around your neck. However, when Chanhee wants to place kisses on your neck, he must, he will and he has always succeeded. Just like now as he uses his chin to anchor the fabric down to trap you between two forces: his harsh sucks from his pretty lips and the harsher grip that he has behind your neck.
“C-Chanhee, move your fingers please.”
Finally, the begging begins and you could curse him out for the momentary smirk against your skin before he lunges in once more to the other collarbone, this time using his teeth to mark his love bites on your still clean skin. Down where your aching, lonely pussy was in his hands that still ghost the opening of your body. There is a lot of self-control happening here for both of you, especially for Chanhee because he has never left you this deprived of his touch before for such a long time during sex.
The thoughts make your head spiral and the tears finally roll down your flushed cheeks. When you open your eyes for a second, you see the moment of hesitation and the way his lips parted in surprise.
“No, no.” You quickly rebut. Your hands fly up to wrap around his neck, pushing him back down to your neck, “I’m fine, please keep going.”
“How far are you willing to take this, baby girl?” There goes the pet name that is reserved for you only within private settings. This makes you excited and Chanhee feels this with the way you let out a gush of lubrication on his fingers. He pushed back against the strength of your arms, staring straight at your half-hooded eyes. Stealing another kiss and licking the drool off your lips, you know your moans aren’t enough for him to continue, “Tell me or else I’ll stop right now.”
“Chanhee…” In all the previous sex sessions together, he always treated you gently. The way his hands would knead the sides of your waist against the mattress, kissing down your stomach to the insides of your thighs, all so perfect for him and you. But you can tell through the flash that runs across his eyes that he has wanted to be more rough on you, use more force and what happened just then, you know is the first step towards his hidden desires. You shyly smile at your boyfriend, cupping his cheek and reassuring him. “Do whatever you want to do. I trust you.”
“Will you trust me even if I break you?”
“You can break my body if you want to,” Your side of your index finger traces down his jawline before turning its finger pad on his chin to act as a hook, bringing his face closer to you. You realise now that he is panting…pretty hard, “but that will never break my trust for you.”
That’s all it takes for him to let go of his worries.
Unfortunately for your aching core, he snaps the fabric once more and you gasp sharply at the feeling. You should’ve maybe known that the gasps would increasingly get louder in the next few seconds. Chanhee lifts you by your ass, plopping your body down to the shorter side of your rectangular study desk and he makes himself comfortable between your legs that he had to forcefully separate.
His fingers continue to rub against your folds, hushing whilst telling you to let go all over him. With your eyes rolled back and your neck falling backwards, Chanhee praises you for the first mess of the night.
The increasing darkness in his eyes should have been enough indication for you because, without another warning, your exposed stomach and bra are now visible to his eyes. Further, he couldn’t wait any longer to see you fully, hooking one of his fingers to the centre gore of your bra, seeing the slight bounce of your breasts as they breathed free in the chilling air.
Chanhee licks his lips, scanning your topless figure, grunting at the sight of everything that he has ever wanted in his life. He didn’t waste another moment and you didn’t even bother to bat an eye when you saw your laptop being pushed away from the corner of your eye, almost at the edge of the table by how desperate the two of you are for each other. A little push was given to your shoulder and you lay your heated back on the small desk. The sudden change in temperature makes you want to curl up to conserve your body heat, including your knees that have started to rise but failed to when they get pushed back down.
"Shit." There was that little nudge behind the thin fabric of his pants that made your entire body shake. “God, you’re so…ugh…”
“Don’t know if you should be muttering his name when I’m right here.” Determination courses through his body when the visible tip of the tent from his pants makes contact with your aching core. You whimper and twist your body to the side, unable to handle the newfound pleasure that he’s giving you.
Chanhee keeps a grip on your shuddering body by your arms, communicating for you to keep still under him from his eyes. You get the message, clashing your lips with his to devour every bit of him. He keeps your mouth busy as he rolls your panties down just enough for you to kick it off somewhere in the room and takes care of his pairs afterwards.
A hand supports his long shaft, Chanhee purposely nudges the tip of the head onto your swollen clit, pushing and pulling to hear the moans release from you whenever he does so. You're still very sensitive with your senses heightened and he's using that to his very advantage.
There's a smirk painted on his lips but the hand that cups your face says that he’s still willing to stop if you give him any indication. But fuck that because there's no way you would tell him to stop. Not when he lays his forehead to yours and starts pushing himself into your dripping hole.
“Good girl,” Chanhee kisses the sweat dripping down the side of your face. “I’m going to keep going.” And he starts to push in deeper through different angles, moving through your velvet walls at the pace that you like.
It’s times like these when you remember once more that Chanhee is the only one for you: his hand that holds the curves of your waist, the other reaching the base of your neck but never hurting you, gripping your flesh with the right possessiveness, his moans that rile you up even further, the way he controls the rolling of his hips with yours so that he can touch the spot that makes you delirious, how he tries his best to keep his eyes open not only because he wants to see you under him but also to make sure you’re alright despite wanting to deprive the sensory information so that he can focus on the feeling where your bodies meet—he’s so perfect for you.
“C-Chanhee…” Your nails lightly scratch the surface of his arms, feeling the familiar wave of pleasure growing closer and closer to you. “I’m so close!...”
“Me too.” He groans and feverishly kisses your lips. “I want you to focus on the sensations from your lower body parts.” He buries his lips in the crook of your neck, biting and pulling your skin with his teeth. “Can you be a good girl and do that for me?” His pelvis continues to do his work on your body, his hold on your hips keeping you from moving too far away from his thrusting. His thumbs swipe your skin, a silent plea for you to release first. “Come on, baby girl.” He grits his teeth, his neck veins visible, “Let go all over me.”
Within a few seconds, you come undone under his hold and Chanhee releases his love for you deep inside your body. His arms give out immediately, burying his face into your chest, gulping and relishing how your liquids mixed, taking in the drip that escapes and runs down from your hole. Chanhee still lets out praises, kissing every part of you that he can, smiling at your pants and ‘thank you’s.
“You’re so perfect.” Whispering to the shell of your ear, patting your head and soothing you from the passionate session. “You did so well.”
“I love you.” It comes out a bit croaked but the genuine emotions from it didn’t get lost.
“I love you too.”
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Symphony of Souls
The Boyz OT11 x afab! reader
Wordcount ≈ 8.1k
Warnings: None I think, a little angsty but barely,
Thank you for the request! I hope you like it!
Third Person POV
In the dazzling realm of K-pop, where talent and charisma converge, there exists a phenomenon that transcends the boundaries of mere musical synergy. Among the stars that illuminate this celestial stage, The Boyz stands as a testament to the extraordinary connections that fate weaves. Comprising eleven exceptional members, this group has captured the hearts of fans worldwide with their unparalleled performances and undeniable chemistry.
What the world may not yet comprehend is that beyond the mesmerizing choreography and harmonious melodies, The Boyz share a bond that goes beyond the surface—a bond forged in the fires of destiny and illuminated by the radiant glow of love. They are not just a group; they are soulmates, intricately linked by threads of fate that tie their destinies together in an ethereal dance.
However, amidst the cosmic harmony that envelops these eleven souls, a poignant emptiness lingers. As fate would have it, there exists a twelfth soulmate yet to be revealed—a missing piece in the intricate puzzle of their lives. Together, they navigate the boundless cosmos of stardom, seeking the one who will complete their constellation, filling the void with a celestial love that transcends the ordinary.
In the effervescent landscape of K-pop, where talents bloom like vibrant blossoms, a new luminary emerged—(Y/n), a freshly debuted actress and soloist whose ethereal presence bewitched hearts from the very first note. With her debut album, she painted sonic landscapes that echoed in the souls of many, capturing the attention of an adoring audience eager to embark on a journey through her musical realm.
What set (Y/n) apart wasn't merely her vocal prowess, but also her ability to weave tales with emotion and authenticity. The music video accompanying her debut single was a cinematic masterpiece, a visual symphony that showcased not only her musical prowess but also her flair for the dramatic. It was in this enchanting audio-visual tapestry that (Y/n) unveiled a multifaceted artistry, leaving an indelible mark on the hearts of those who witnessed her debut.
As if destiny itself were orchestrating her ascent, whispers of (Y/n)'s imminent foray into the world of acting began to circulate. The stage was set for a new chapter as it was announced that she would be gracing the small screen as the lead in a highly anticipated drama. Anticipation rippled through the industry, and fans eagerly awaited the convergence of her musical and dramatic talents in what promised to be a spellbinding performance.
With every step, (Y/n) was proving to be a rising star of exceptional luminosity, illuminating the K-pop world with her presence. The world eagerly awaited the unfolding chapters of her journey, both in the studio and on the screen, as (Y/n) embarked on a path destined for greatness in the realms of music and acting alike.
As the excitement swirled in the vibrant cosmos of The Boyz, a particular star within the constellation burned even brighter—Younghoon, the charismatic and talented third oldest member. The news of his successful audition for the male lead in the same drama that (Y/n) would be gracing was met with jubilation that echoed through the corridors of destiny.
Younghoon's joy radiated like a supernova, illuminating the faces of his fellow members—Sangyeon, Jacob, Hyunjae, Juyeon, Kevin, Changmin, Chanhee, Haknyeon, Sunwoo, and Eric. The air was charged with electric energy as they came together to celebrate this momentous occasion, recognizing that their constellation was expanding to encompass not only the musical realm but also the boundless horizon of acting.
Amidst the revelry, laughter, and shared excitement, Younghoon stood as a beacon of inspiration, a testament to the dreams that could manifest when talent, dedication, and opportunity converged. Each member, a vital thread in the intricate tapestry of The Boyz, contributed to the celebration, forging a bond that transcended the stage and studio.
As they raised a collective toast to Younghoon's triumph, the stars of The Boyz shone with pride and anticipation for the spectacular journey that lay ahead.
As the first rays of dawn painted the sky in hues of soft pastels, (Y/n) awoke with a giddy excitement that bubbled within her like a fizzy elixir. Today held the promise of a meeting that stirred butterflies in the depths of her being—she was to meet Younghoon, the charismatic third oldest of The Boyz. The thought alone sent a delightful shiver down her spine, and she couldn't contain the joy that danced in her eyes.
A devoted deobi, (Y/n) had been a steadfast fan of The Boyz since the very inception of their journey with the effervescent anthem "Boy." Through the highs and lows, the stages, and the milestones, she had stood by them as a beacon of unwavering support. The music, the performances, and the camaraderie of the eleven stars had woven a tapestry of memories in her heart, and today marked a chapter where her path would intersect with one of those shining stars.
The excitement, palpable in the air, manifested in a radiant smile that adorned (Y/n)'s face as she prepared for the day. She felt a sense of kinship with Younghoon, a connection forged through the melodies that resonated in her soul. Today, that connection would take a tangible form, and the prospect thrilled her beyond measure.
With a heart brimming with anticipation and a deobi spirit ablaze, (Y/n) stepped into the day, ready to embark on an adventure that promised not only the joy of meeting Younghoon but also the continuation of a journey she had cherished since The Boyz's first notes had captivated her heart.
The sunlit morning found Younghoon's eyes blinking open with an infectious excitement that mirrored the fluttering anticipation within his heart. Today held a special rendezvous with (Y/n), and the prospect of working together on the drama set ignited a joy that painted his smile with an extra layer of radiance.
As he shuffled through his morning routine, Kevin couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy, his eyes narrowing playfully as he teased Younghoon.
"Younghoon-hyung, you lucky guy! Getting to work with (Y/n) and all. I'd kill to be in your shoes," Kevin exclaimed, a mock pout on his face.
Younghoon chuckled, understanding Kevin's playful envy. "Come on, Kev. It's just work. But I get it; (Y/n)'s music is amazing. I'll make sure to tell her you're a big fan."
Kevin's eyes widened, a mischievous grin replacing his faux pout. "You would do that for me? You're the best, hyung! Hey, why don't you bring me to the set? Just for a day, please?"
Younghoon laughed, shaking his head. "As much as I'd love to have you there, Kev, it's not up to me. The schedules are tight, and you know how it is. But I promise to share all the juicy details and maybe get an autograph for you."
Kevin feigned a dramatic sigh. "Fine, fine. Just make sure to ask for an autograph on my favorite album, okay? And tell her I said hi!"
Younghoon nodded, already envisioning the playful banter he'd share with (Y/n) about Kevin's admiration. As the day unfolded, he carried with him the shared excitement of The Boyz and the knowledge that, while Kevin might not physically be on set, his enthusiasm would undoubtedly be present in spirit.
In the bustling pre-dawn hours, Sangyeon, the venerable leader and eldest among The Boyz, sought out Younghoon with a warm smile. As he approached, he clapped a supportive hand on Younghoon's shoulder, his eyes gleaming with genuine encouragement.
"Younghoon, you've got this. Knock 'em dead on set today. We're all rooting for you," Sangyeon said, his words carrying the weight of camaraderie and shared aspirations.
Younghoon nodded, grateful for the leader's words of encouragement. "Thanks, hyung. I'll do my best."
However, before Sangyeon could linger in the exchange, the distant sounds of a lively dispute reached their ears. With a knowing look, Sangyeon excused himself, patting Younghoon's back once more.
"Break a leg, and remember, we're a family. We've got your back," Sangyeon assured before heading towards the source of the commotion.
As he approached, the scene unfolded before him—Sunwoo, the mischievous troublemaker, had evidently found another opportunity for mischief. Chanhee, caught in the crossfire, looked more exasperated than angry as he realized that his clothes had fallen victim to Sunwoo's impromptu prank.
Sangyeon sighed, adopting a tone that blended authority with understanding. "Alright, boys, let's not turn the house into a battlefield. Sunwoo, give Chanhee his clothes back, and let's focus on supporting Younghoon and working today."
Sunwoo grinned, mischief dancing in his eyes, but he complied, returning Chanhee's clothes with an exaggerated bow. Sangyeon, with a bemused shake of his head, continued to play the role of the wise elder, smoothing out the ripples in the group dynamics before wishing everyone well for the day ahead. The drama both on and off the set promised to be as entertaining as The Boyz's performances themselves.
The film studio hummed with the quiet anticipation of creativity as (Y/n) stepped through its entrance. The air crackled with the promise of a new venture, and her senses were heightened, attuned to every nuance of the surroundings. Amidst the bustling activity, one figure stood out—Younghoon, his tall and commanding presence catching her eye.
As (Y/n) approached, the symphony of butterflies in her stomach played a melodic tune that mirrored the gentle thrumming of her heart. She couldn't help but feel a magnetic pull toward Younghoon, a force that drew her closer with each step. The air seemed charged with an unspoken energy, and when Younghoon turned around, their eyes met in a collision of fate.
Time seemed to slow as recognition sparked in Younghoon's eyes. In that moment, the world around them faded into the background, leaving only the two of them in a shared, suspended reality. The soulmate bond that connected their destinies clicked into place, resonating with an invisible force that enveloped them in a cocoon of connection.
(Y/n) felt as though only they existed in that singular moment. The studio, the crew, and the world beyond blurred into insignificance as their gaze lingered deepening the unspoken understanding that transcended the ordinary. It was a moment where souls touched, and the universe acknowledged the serendipity of their meeting.
As their hands touched, a subtle electric charge surged between Younghoon and (Y/n), and in that moment, an unspoken realization passed between them. Younghoon, his eyes gleaming with happiness, couldn't contain the bubbling joy within him. He took a step forward, his heart dancing with newfound lightness.
"Hi, I'm Younghoon," he grinned, the happiness radiating from him like a warm aura. "And, well, I guess I can't help but feel incredibly lucky to be your soulmate."
(Y/n)'s eyes widened, a mix of surprise and delight coloring her features. "Really?" she chuckled, charmed by Younghoon's sincerity. "Well, I'm (Y/n), and I guess that makes us quite the pair, doesn't it?"
As they shared introductions, the atmosphere around them seemed to shift, as if the universe itself acknowledged the significance of their meeting. The air buzzed with an unspoken connection, and the studio, for a fleeting moment, felt like their own private world.
Younghoon chuckled, his gaze holding a playful sparkle. "The Boyz are known for their visuals, but I have to say, meeting you in person, you're even more beautiful than I imagined."
(Y/n) blushed, a genuine smile gracing her lips. "Flattery will get you everywhere, Younghoon. But seriously, it's a pleasure to meet you. I've been a fan of The Boyz for a long time."
The exchange of words became a delightful dance, a symphony of laughter and connection that echoed within the studio walls. The shared recognition of their soulmate bond added a layer of magic to the encounter, setting the stage for a journey that promised to be as enchanting as the melodies sung by The Boyz themselves.
The enchanting moment shared between Younghoon and (Y/n) was abruptly punctuated by the discreet but pointed clearing of throats from their managers. The spell momentarily broken, they exchanged a sheepish glance before refocusing on the task at hand.
"Alright, let's get back to work," one of the managers announced with a businesslike tone, gently steering the atmosphere away from the lingering magic of the soulmate encounter.
Younghoon and (Y/n) nodded in unison, the shared understanding of the professional setting settling in. As the managers guided them back into the rhythm of the shoot, the studio once again hummed with the orchestrated movements of actors, crew, and the intricate dance of storytelling.
Despite the interruption, the connection forged between Younghoon and (Y/n) lingered in the air, infusing the set with a subtle warmth. They approached their roles with newfound energy, a shared secret glinting in their eyes as they delved into the world of their characters.
The managers satisfied that the brief interlude hadn't derailed the proceedings, observed the unfolding scenes with a watchful eye. As the cameras rolled and the drama unfolded, it was evident that the encounter between Younghoon and (Y/n) had added an unspoken layer to the narrative—a behind-the-scenes tale that would forever remain etched in the shared history of The Boyz and their newfound soulmate in the world of acting.
Seated together during a break on the bustling set, Younghoon and (Y/n) enjoyed a moment of reprieve. The camaraderie between them felt effortless as if they had been friends for much longer than the brief encounter suggested. As they delved into their lunch, Younghoon couldn't help but smile at (Y/n), his eyes reflecting the genuine connection they shared.
"By the way," Younghoon began a playful glint in his eyes, "I have a favor to ask. Kevin, one of our members, is a huge fan of yours. Mind signing an autograph for him? I promised I'd get one."
(Y/n) laughed, the gesture light and infectious. "Of course! I'd be honored. Just let me know where I can sign, and I'll make sure to add a little note for Kevin."
Younghoon, grateful for (Y/n)'s willingness, pointed to a corner of his script. "Right here should be perfect. Thanks a bunch, (Y/n). Kevin's going to flip when he sees this."
As (Y/n) took the script to jot down the autograph, Younghoon couldn't help but steer the conversation toward the unique bond they shared. "You know, (Y/n), being soulmates with me means you're soulmates with all eleven members of The Boyz. It's like a package deal."
(Y/n) chuckled, charmed by the notion. "A package deal, huh? I'm starting to feel like the luckiest soulmate in the world."
Younghoon grinned, a warmth spreading through him. "Well, you've got ten more awesome guys waiting to meet you properly. Who knows, maybe we can all hang out sometime."
The prospect of a shared connection with The Boyz beyond Younghoon added an intriguing layer to their budding friendship. As they continued their meal, the studio buzzed around them, but at that moment, it felt like the universe had carved out a little corner where soulmates, both singular and collective, could share laughter and camaraderie amidst the magic of filmmaking.
The door to The Boyz's shared residence swung open, and Younghoon entered, his face radiant with an unmistakable joy that couldn't be contained. His fellow members, gathered in the living room, turned their attention towards him, their curiosity piqued.
Sangyeon, the ever-watchful leader, couldn't help but grin. "Well, how was the first day on set? Spill the details, Younghoon!"
Younghoon practically beamed, unable to contain his excitement. "Guys, you won't believe what happened today. (Y/n), our soulmate is amazing! She's not only talented but also incredibly nice and down-to-earth. It's like we've known each other forever."
The room fell into stunned silence as the realization of Younghoon's words settled in. The members exchanged wide-eyed glances, and then, almost in unison, erupted into a chorus of exclamations.
"(Y/n) is our soulmate too?" Changmin questioned, not believing his ears.
"No way, you're kidding, right?" Eric exclaimed loudly as he jumped up and down.
"Younghoon-hyung, you've got to be messing with us!" Kevin shouted, he was certain he was dreaming.
Younghoon laughed, reveling in the infectious astonishment of his fellow members. "No joke, guys! We're all connected through our soulmate bond. It's like fate brought us together in the most unexpected way."
Hyunjae, always quick with a teasing remark, chimed in, "So, what's she like? Is she as pretty in person as she is in her music videos?"
Younghoon nodded enthusiastically. "Even more so. And she's genuinely kind. I got her autograph for you, Kevin," Kevin took the paper from Younghoon’s hands, jumping with joy.
As the news settled in, the members couldn't help but exchange excited glances. The living room buzzed with animated conversation as they eagerly delved into the details of Younghoon's day and looked forward to the possibility of getting to know (Y/n) better. Fate had woven another unexpected chapter into the tapestry of The Boyz's journey, and they embraced it with open hearts and wide smiles.
Haknyeon's playful interruption cast a brief shadow over the jubilant atmosphere, his mock teasing tone injecting a touch of humor into the room. "Come on, Younghoon, it's not fair that you get all the quality time with our soulmate. What about the rest of us? When do we get to meet her?"
The room erupted into laughter, the members playfully nudging Younghoon as if he held the secret to unlocking the mysteries of their shared soulmate bond. Jacob, the second oldest, decided to respond with a good-natured smile.
"Well, Haknyeon, it's all part of the cosmic plan, isn't it?" Jacob mused, his tone light. "Younghoon's just the trailblazer, paving the way for the rest of us to follow. Patience is a virtue, my friend."
Haknyeon exaggeratedly sighed, his hand on his heart. "Patience? Jacob, you make it sound like we're on a quest for some mystical treasure. I just want to meet our soulmate!"
The banter continued, the members exchanging banter and teasing as they navigated the uncharted territory of having a shared soulmate. Despite Haknyeon's faux complaints, there was an underlying excitement that permeated the air—an anticipation for the day when all of them would finally get to meet (Y/n) and discover the unique connection that fate had woven among them.
In the meantime, Younghoon, the unwitting pioneer, grinned amidst the good-natured ribbing, knowing that the shared joy of their newfound connection would only deepen as the days unfolded. The living room echoed with laughter, forging another chapter in The Boyz's journey, where friendship, fate, and a shared soulmate awaited on the horizon.
Younghoon’s POV
As I stepped onto the set the next day, my anticipation mingled with a sense of surreal wonder. The bustling activity around me seemed to fade into the background as my eyes landed on her—(Y/n), radiant in a beautiful pink dress that accentuated every curve. The makeshift wind from the fan tousled her hair, framing her like an ethereal halo, and the lights seemed to converge upon her, casting a gentle glow that transformed her into something beyond human.
Time froze for a fleeting moment as I watched her, the breath caught in my throat. She looked like a goddess, a celestial being gracing our earthly set with an otherworldly presence. The delicate swish of her dress, the way her hair danced in the invisible breeze—it was as if the universe conspired to enhance her beauty, painting a picture that transcended the ordinary.
I found myself frozen in my step, my heart pounding in awe. The world around me blurred as my gaze lingered on (Y/n), capturing every detail—the sparkle in her eyes, the grace in her movements. In that moment, she wasn't just our soulmate; she was a vision, a muse that could inspire the most enchanting tales.
As I approached, a profound appreciation settled within me. How lucky was I to have this incredible woman as our soulmate? The soft rustle of her dress, the way the lights caressed her features—it was a scene etched into my memory, a living masterpiece that only added to the magic of our shared connection.
With each step closer, the set transformed into a canvas where destiny and art converged. And in the presence of (Y/n), I couldn't help but marvel at the beauty that fate had woven into the tapestry of our lives, forever etching her as a celestial muse in the story of The Boyz.
Third Person POV
As the weeks rolled on, the culmination of their shared venture approached—MAMA, the prestigious award show (such a lie lol) that promised a dazzling celebration of talent and achievement. The drama had wrapped, leaving behind a trail of memories and a connection that had grown stronger. Now, fate had orchestrated a meeting on a grand stage—the convergence of (Y/n) and The Boyz at MAMA.
(Y/n), adorned in an elegant gown that radiated confidence, was nominated for Best Female Artist. Her heart swelled with a mix of excitement and hope, believing that The Boyz, who was nominated for Best Male Performance, truly deserved the recognition.
The Boyz, equally thrilled and ecstatic, was bubbling with anticipation at the prospect of finally meeting their soulmate. However, they knew the importance of playing it cool to avoid sparking unnecessary rumors. The camaraderie they had shared on the set, the unspoken connection as soulmates, now held the promise of being unveiled on a stage where dreams took flight.
As they walked the red carpet, the air was charged with an electric energy, a mix of nerves and exhilaration. (Y/n) carried herself with grace, a nominee and a fan in equal measure, secretly hoping for The Boyz to take home the trophy they so rightfully deserved.
Backstage, the members exchanged glances, a silent understanding passing between them. They were about to meet their soulmate, the artist who had inspired them and shared a unique connection with them. The challenge lay in keeping their excitement in check, their smiles were genuine but tempered to avoid any premature speculations.
(Y/n)’s POV
As I settled into my seat at MAMA, the air humming with anticipation, my heart began to race with the excitement of what was about to unfold. Glancing at the reserved seats beside me, I couldn't help but feel a surge of joy. This was it—the moment I had been waiting for. The moment when I would finally meet all eleven of my soulmates, The Boyz.
The auditorium buzzed with energy, but my focus was drawn to the approaching figures, each face etched in my memory from the countless times I had watched their performances. There they were, all eleven of them, their handsome faces unmistakable in the sea of people.
As they passed by, a wave of warmth enveloped me. Some of them waved, their smiles contagious, while others offered a quick hello. It felt surreal, as if a shared secret between us had now come to life in the most spectacular of settings. The casual greetings, the friendly waves—it was as if we were old friends finally meeting after a long-awaited reunion.
"Hey there, (Y/n)! We're so excited to finally meet you in person," Hyunjae exclaimed, the genuine enthusiasm evident in his voice.
I couldn't help but return the sentiment with a beaming smile. "Likewise! It's incredible to finally see you all face to face."
The brief exchange carried with it a sense of familiarity, a connection forged not just through the shared soulmate bond but through the journey of their music and performances. As they continued on to their seats, the excitement lingered in the air, a prelude to the unfolding night where destiny, music, and shared joy would intertwine in a celebration of their unique connection at MAMA.
As Juyeon and Changmin left their seats and ascended the stage, my eyes were immediately drawn to the two of them. The atmosphere shifted as they joined the other groups for a powerful dance performance, their presence commanding attention from every corner of the auditorium.
Changmin, with his ethereal grace, moved across the stage like a dancer in a dream. His every movement seemed to carry a poetic elegance, each step a testament to the artistry he brought to the performance. I couldn't tear my eyes away, captivated by the way he expressed emotion through his dance, the intensity in his eyes adding depth to the mesmerizing spectacle.
And then there was Juyeon, a force of nature on the stage. His powerful aura radiated confidence, and as he showcased his muscled body, every movement exuded strength and control. The energy he brought to the performance was palpable, and the audience was swept away by the sheer force of his presence.
Despite the other talented dancers surrounding them, in my eyes, Juyeon and Changmin were the only two up there. It wasn't just the technical brilliance of their movements; it was the way they infused each step with emotion, making the dance a powerful narrative that transcended the physicality of the performance.
As the music swelled and the dance reached its climax, I found myself caught in a spell woven by the artistry of Juyeon and Changmin.
Sangyeon’s POV
As the leader, I stood there watching (Y/n) with a swelling sense of pride. Her unreleased song echoed through the venue, and I couldn't help but marvel at the depth of her artistry. Her vocals carried emotion, and the way she moved on stage was nothing short of captivating. It was a moment that transcended the stage—a promise fulfilled and a testament to her commitment to her craft. She was more than just a soulmate; she was an artist, a star in her own right, and seeing her shine on that stage filled me with a profound sense of joy.
Jacob’s POV
(Y/n)'s performance was like a dream unfolding before my eyes. Her unreleased song had a haunting beauty that lingered in the air, and her dancing was a graceful expression of the emotions woven into the melody. I couldn't help but be moved by the authenticity of her artistry. It was clear that she poured her heart into every note, every movement. As an artist, I felt a deep connection with her on that stage, and the cheers from the audience were a chorus of acknowledgment for her talent. It was a moment where the boundaries between performer and audience blurred, and I was privileged to witness it.
Younghoon’s POV
Watching (Y/n) take the stage was an experience that transcended words. The air in the auditorium seemed to change as the opening notes of her unreleased song filled the space. Her vocals carried a haunting beauty that resonated with every corner of the venue, and her dancing was a graceful embodiment of the emotions woven into the melody. As our soulmate, I felt a unique connection, a shared journey through the artistry of her performance. Her presence on stage was nothing short of enchanting, and I couldn't help but be captivated by the genuine smile she wore throughout. It was more than just a promise fulfilled; it was a moment where destiny, music, and the bond we shared converged into a beautiful symphony. The cheers and applause from the audience were not just for her talent; they were a celebration of the connection we all felt in that magical moment. As a member of The Boyz and her soulmate, seeing (Y/n) shine on that stage was a memory etched in my heart, a testament to the enduring power of music and destiny.
Hyunjae’s POV
(Y/n)'s performance was a revelation, and I found myself utterly captivated by her presence on stage. Her vocals resonated with a soulful quality that tugged at the heartstrings, and her dancing was a mesmerizing display of skill and emotion. The way she connected with the audience, with us, went beyond the mere performance—it was a shared experience, a moment of communion through music. As an artist, I couldn't help but be inspired by her, and the genuine smiles in the crowd were a testament to the impact she had on everyone present.
Juyeon’s POV
Watching (Y/n) on stage was like witnessing a celestial being sharing her magic with the world. Her unreleased song held a melody that seemed to echo through the very core of the venue, and her dancing was a powerful showcase of artistry. What struck me the most was the authenticity of her smile. It wasn't just about hitting the right notes or nailing the choreography; it was about the joy she found in the performance. It left an indelible mark on me, a reminder of the pure, unbridled passion that makes music so enchanting.
Kevin’s POV
(Y/n)'s performance was nothing short of breathtaking. Her unreleased song carried a melody that lingered in the air long after the last note, and her dancing was a beautiful expression of the emotions woven into the music. What struck me the most was the way she connected with the audience and, by extension, with us. It was a shared moment of celebration, and the cheers and applause were a testament to the impact of her artistry. As a fellow artist, I felt a kinship with her on that stage, and the experience was a reminder of the transformative power of music.
Chanhee’s POV
(Y/n)'s performance was a spectacle of talent and grace. The unreleased song she shared had a haunting beauty, and her dancing was like poetry in motion. I couldn't help but feel a surge of admiration for her artistry. Her presence on stage was magnetic, drawing everyone into the narrative she created with her music and movements. It was a moment that transcended the boundaries of language, where the universal language of music spoke volumes. As a member of The Boyz, I was honored to witness her shine on that stage.
Changmin’s POV
(Y/n)'s performance was a testament to the power of her artistry. The unreleased song she presented carried a unique and soulful melody, and her dancing was a masterclass in expression. What struck me the most was the way she commanded the stage with an effortless elegance. It was more than a performance; it was a journey through emotions, and the connection she forged with the audience was palpable. As an artist, I felt a deep resonance with her work, and her performance left an indelible mark on the canvas of MAMA.
Haknyeon’s POV
(Y/n)'s performance was like a symphony of emotions unfolding on stage. Her unreleased song resonated with a haunting beauty, and her dancing was a visual representation of the music's soul. What stood out to me was the genuine joy she exuded. It wasn't just about hitting the right notes; it was about sharing a piece of her heart with the audience. As a fellow performer, I couldn't help but be inspired by her passion, and the cheers from the crowd were a testament to the impact she had on everyone present.
Sunwoo’s POV
(Y/n)'s performance was a moment of sheer magic. The unreleased song she unveiled carried an emotional depth that resonated with everyone in the venue, and her dancing was a captivating display of skill and grace. What struck me the most was the connection she forged with the audience. It wasn't just about entertaining; it was about creating a shared experience through music. As a member of The Boyz, I felt a sense of pride watching her on that stage, knowing that she was not just a soulmate but an extraordinary artist.
Eric’s POV
(Y/n)'s performance was a revelation of talent and emotion. The unreleased song she presented was a melody that lingered in the air, and her dancing was a poetic expression of the music's soul. What resonated with me was the authenticity of her presence on stage. It wasn't a performance for the sake of performance; it was a genuine sharing of art and emotion. As a member of The Boyz, I felt a sense of connection with her on that stage, a shared journey through the language of music that went beyond words.
Third Person POV
The viral moments from MAMA featuring (Y/n) and The Boyz sparked a social media frenzy, capturing the attention of fans and onlookers alike. However, instead of fueling dating rumors, the prevailing narrative among most people was grounded in the belief that (Y/n) and Younghoon were simply friends who had shared the screen in the same drama.
The footage showcased heartwarming interactions between (Y/n) and The Boyz, moments that transcended the boundaries of celebrity camaraderie. Whether it was the genuine smiles exchanged, friendly waves, or shared laughter, the clips depicted a connection that went beyond the usual dynamics of actors and fellow artists. The audience's collective interpretation leaned towards the idea that the bond between (Y/n) and The Boyz was rooted in genuine friendship.
As the clips circulated on social media platforms, the comments section became a testament to the prevailing sentiment. Fans and casual observers alike celebrated the idea that (Y/n) had found friends in The Boyz beyond the confines of their professional collaborations. The absence of dating rumors was a testament to the maturity and understanding of the audience, who recognized the richness of platonic connections in the entertainment industry.
(Y/n) and The Boyz continued to navigate their newfound friendship in the public eye, and the viral moments served as a delightful reminder that genuine connections can flourish amidst the glamour of the entertainment world without necessarily giving rise to romantic speculations. The supportive responses from fans further solidified the understanding that sometimes, the most beautiful stories are those of friendship, shared dreams, and the magic of soulmates extending beyond the realms of on-screen narratives.
The break following MAMA brought a long-awaited opportunity for (Y/n) and The Boyz to meet up and forge deeper connections away from the public eye. Determined to enjoy each other's company without the scrutiny of prying eyes, they orchestrated a secret gathering, a clandestine rendezvous where the bonds of friendship could be nurtured without the weight of public expectations.
Choosing a secluded and intimate venue, (Y/n) and The Boyz gathered, relishing the freedom to simply be themselves in the company of newfound friends and soulmates. Laughter echoed through the air as they shared stories, dreams, and anecdotes, solidifying the connection that had begun to flourish during their collaboration on the drama and at MAMA.
The setting allowed for genuine interactions, unburdened by the external pressures of fame. Away from the spotlight, they could revel in the joy of camaraderie, discovering shared interests and quirks that transcended their roles as artists. The shared laughter, the ease with which conversations flowed, hinted at a bond that went beyond the constraints of the public gaze.
As the day unfolded, the secret meeting became a sanctuary where friendships deepened, and the foundation for a lasting connection was laid. The Boyz, each a distinct personality within the group, welcomed (Y/n) into their circle with open arms, and (Y/n) found herself embraced not just as a soulmate but as a cherished friend.
The break provided the perfect backdrop for this clandestine gathering—a chapter in their shared story that unfolded away from the glare of cameras and public scrutiny. In the warmth of their shared laughter and the genuine exchanges that took place, (Y/n) and The Boyz discovered the beauty of friendship that could thrive in the quiet moments, away from the orchestrated chaos of the entertainment industry.
Underneath the soft glow of fairy lights, Sangyeon and (Y/n) found themselves strolling through a quaint garden. The air was filled with the delicate scent of blooming flowers, and as they meandered through the winding paths, Sangyeon gently took (Y/n)'s hand in his. Their fingers intertwined naturally, and without saying a word, they reveled in the tranquility of the moment, basking in the shared warmth of their connection.
On a quiet rooftop overlooking the city, Jacob and (Y/n) sat side by side, their laughter blending with the distant hum of the urban landscape. As the evening breeze played with (Y/n)'s hair, Jacob's gaze met hers, and in that unspoken exchange, the world around them seemed to fade. With a tender smile, he reached for her hand, intertwining their fingers as they shared stories and dreams against the backdrop of the city lights.
In the soft glow of candlelight, Younghoon and (Y/n) found themselves sharing a quiet dinner. The ambiance was serene, and as their eyes met, a subtle understanding passed between them. Younghoon reached across the table, his fingers delicately tracing circles on (Y/n)'s hand. In that intimate exchange, time seemed to slow, and the flickering candles bore witness to the unspoken connection that continued to deepen between them.
Beneath the canopy of twinkling stars, Hyunjae and (Y/n) sat by a crackling bonfire. The warmth mirrored the connection between them, and as they exchanged playful banter, Hyunjae couldn't resist reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair from (Y/n)'s face. Their eyes locked, and in that fleeting moment, the crackling flames seemed to echo the warmth blossoming between their hearts.
On a moonlit beach, Juyeon and (Y/n) found solace in the gentle lull of the waves. The sand beneath their feet felt cool, and as Juyeon extended his hand, a silent invitation passed between them. Their barefoot steps created imprints in the sand, and with the rhythmic sound of the ocean as their backdrop, they danced under the moonlight, a serene and intimate moment etched in the canvas of the night.
Amidst the soft melodies of a private acoustic performance, Kevin and (Y/n) shared a quiet corner of a cozy venue. As the music wrapped around them, Kevin's eyes held an unspoken promise. With a gentle touch, he cupped (Y/n)'s cheek, his thumb tracing a gentle path. The world faded away, leaving only the tender notes of the guitar and the shared heartbeat of a moment steeped in quiet intimacy.
In the heart of a bustling city, Chanhee and (Y/n) found refuge in a rooftop garden, a hidden oasis above the urban chaos. Surrounded by lush greenery, Chanhee's eyes held a soft warmth as he handed (Y/n) a single flower. With a bashful smile, he tucked it behind her ear, a subtle gesture that spoke volumes in the language of shared secrets and unspoken feelings.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, Changmin and (Y/n) found themselves in a quiet bookstore, surrounded by the comforting scent of old books. The hushed atmosphere invited a sense of intimacy. Changmin, with a twinkle in his eyes, handed (Y/n) a book—a shared favorite from his collection. Their fingers brushed in the exchange, a gentle reminder that sometimes, love could be found in the simple act of sharing a story.
In a playful escape to an amusement park, Haknyeon and (Y/n) found themselves atop the Ferris wheel, the city lights stretching out beneath them. With a lighthearted grin, Haknyeon reached for (Y/n)'s hand, intertwining their fingers. The world below became a blur as they ascended into the night sky, their laughter dancing on the breeze—a carefree moment etched against the backdrop of twinkling lights.
In the serenity of a lakeside cabin, Sunwoo and (Y/n) found refuge from the demands of the world. The crackling fireplace cast a warm glow, and as Sunwoo strummed a gentle melody on his guitar, (Y/n) leaned against him. The quiet notes resonated in the cozy space, creating a haven where their souls connected through the shared language of music and unspoken emotions.
On a secluded balcony overlooking the city, Eric and (Y/n) found themselves wrapped in the soothing ambiance of a quiet night. The city lights below sparkled like a sea of stars, and with a gentle touch, Eric draped a soft blanket around (Y/n)'s shoulders. As they leaned against the railing, the world below seemed to disappear, leaving only the two of them—partners in a moment of quiet intimacy that transcended the bounds of ordinary romance.
The tranquility that (Y/n) and The Boyz had cherished in the private moments they shared was abruptly shattered when unauthorized pictures of their time together surfaced. The images, captured within the sanctuary of The Boyz's apartment, ignited a storm of controversies that swept through social media and news outlets. The invasion of their privacy fueled public discontent, and the narrative surrounding their friendship and bond as soulmates took an unexpected and unwarranted turn.
The public, hungry for sensationalism, expressed their displeasure at what they perceived as an intrusion into the personal lives of both (Y/n) and The Boyz. The comments sections became a battleground of opinions, with some condemning the breach of privacy, while others indulged in speculative discussions and criticisms.
The Boyz, known for their close-knit bond with each other and (Y/n), found themselves grappling with the unwanted attention. The camaraderie that had been celebrated just months ago was now scrutinized and distorted by public perception. (Y/n), too, faced the brunt of the controversy, as her genuine connection with The Boyz was overshadowed by the invasive snapshots that had made their way into the public domain.
The joint statement from (Y/n)'s and The Boyz's respective companies aimed to set the record straight, revealing the profound connection that bound them together—soulmates. The revelation of their shared destiny shed light on the authenticity of their relationship, turning the narrative away from invasive speculations to the undeniable force of fate that had brought them together.
The statement emphasized the importance of respecting personal boundaries and understanding the impact of invasive media coverage on artists. It called for empathy and acknowledgment of the unique connection shared by (Y/n) and The Boyz, urging the public to view their relationship with the same admiration and respect that soulmates inherently deserve.
For a portion of the general public, the acknowledgment of their soulmate bond transformed the narrative, adding a layer of beauty and depth to the relationship between (Y/n) and The Boyz. The realization that fate had intricately woven their destinies together resonated with many, fostering a newfound appreciation for the genuine connection that existed beyond the lens of public scrutiny.
However, as is often the case in the world of celebrities, a segment of the public remained resistant to change. Some individuals continued to direct hate and criticism towards (Y/n) and The Boyz, seemingly unaffected by the revelation of their soulmate bond. The dichotomy in public opinion underscored the complexities of navigating fame, personal relationships, and the constant gaze of an audience.
In the face of both support and adversity, (Y/n) and The Boyz stood united, finding strength in the shared understanding of their soulmate connection. The journey they embarked on together, from the serenity of private moments to the turbulent seas of public controversy, became a testament to the resilience of genuine connections in the face of external pressures.
The revelation of (Y/n) and The Boyz as soulmates ignited a fervor among their dedicated fanbases, with Deobis and (Y/n)'s fans eager for interactions that showcased the genuine bond between them. However, the intensity of the requests, including demands for displays of physical affection such as kissing, raised ethical concerns.
Both (Y/n)'s and The Boyz's agencies, recognizing the importance of maintaining respect for personal boundaries, released statements urging fans to appreciate the soulmate connection without pressuring the artists into intimate displays for public consumption. The agencies emphasized the need for a healthy and respectful fandom culture, where the artists' personal lives could be cherished without crossing the line into invasive requests.
Despite the agencies' pleas, the demands persisted on social media platforms. Some fans, in their enthusiasm and desire to see the depth of the soulmate connection, inadvertently contributed to an environment that pushed the boundaries of privacy and respect.
In response, (Y/n), The Boyz, and their agencies maintained a delicate balance, continuing to share glimpses of their relationship and collaborations in a way that celebrated their connection without compromising their personal boundaries. They reinforced the idea that soulmate connections were rooted in a deep understanding and shared journey, transcending the need for explicit public displays.
Navigating the delicate balance between fan expectations and personal privacy, (Y/n) and The Boyz found themselves at the center of a unique situation, where the genuine appreciation of their soulmate bond was sometimes overshadowed by the demands of an enthusiastic yet boundary-pushing fandom. The journey to strike this balance became a testament to the complexities of navigating fame and personal connections within the ever-evolving landscape of the entertainment industry.
A candid snapshot captured Juyeon enveloping (Y/n) in a warm embrace backstage after a successful joint performance. The genuine smiles on their faces radiated a shared joy, and the image quickly became a symbol of the affectionate camaraderie between them.
During a casual stroll through a park, Hyunjae and (Y/n) were photographed walking hand-in-hand. The simple yet heartwarming gesture showcased a connection that extended beyond the stage, resonating with fans who appreciated the authenticity of their friendship.
A video snippet from a behind-the-scenes moment at a music show revealed The Boyz surrounding (Y/n) in a spontaneous group hug. Laughter echoed as they playfully squeezed in, creating a heartwarming tableau that fans couldn't help but gush over on social media.
Changmin was spotted offering (Y/n) his hand to help her navigate a slightly uneven surface during an outdoor event. The small but chivalrous act became a viral sensation, highlighting the caring dynamics within their friendship.
In a lighthearted moment during a variety show appearance, Sunwoo playfully stole (Y/n)'s hat and placed it atop his own head. The teasing banter and infectious laughter that ensued quickly became a favorite among fans, showcasing the playful dynamics within the group.
On (Y/n)'s birthday, Jacob took to social media to share a heartfelt message accompanied by a picture of them sharing a laugh. The sincerity of his words and the captured moment of joy became a viral sensation, with fans celebrating the warmth of their friendship.
During a live performance, Sangyeon was captured giving (Y/n) an encouraging smile from across the stage as they shared a meaningful duet. The genuine expression of support resonated with fans, symbolizing the deep connection they had forged through their shared artistic endeavors.
In a quiet moment backstage, Younghoon was seen offering (Y/n) a reassuring squeeze of her hand before a crucial live interview. The quiet support and connection shared in that simple touch touched the hearts of fans, who admired the camaraderie between them.
A fun-filled video showed Chanhee engaging in playful banter with (Y/n) during a variety show appearance. Their easygoing dynamic and infectious laughter created a delightful atmosphere that resonated with fans, highlighting the carefree and enjoyable moments they shared.
A snippet from a special live performance captured Kevin and (Y/n) engaging in a heartfelt duet. The chemistry between their voices and the genuine smiles they exchanged became a viral sensation, with fans expressing admiration for the seamless collaboration between the soloist and The Boyz.
A candid moment backstage captured Haknyeon engaging in playful antics with (Y/n), showcasing their lighthearted friendship. The shared laughter and carefree gestures became a viral sensation, offering fans a glimpse into the joyous dynamics within The Boyz and (Y/n)'s interactions.
In a competitive game during a variety show, Eric was spotted cheering enthusiastically for (Y/n), embodying the spirit of camaraderie and friendly competition. The genuine encouragement and shared excitement became a favorite among fans, emphasizing the supportive dynamics within the group.
These moments, ranging from sincere gestures of support to playful interactions, contributed to the endearing narrative of (Y/n) and The Boyz's friendship. As these instances went viral on social media, fans celebrated the authenticity and warmth that defined the bond shared between the soloist and each member of The Boyz.
#the boyz#the boyz scenario#the boyz imagines#the boyz fluff#the boyz x reader#the boyz request#the boyz oneshot#the boyz x afab! reader#the boyz ot11 x reader#tbz#tbz fluff#tbz x reader#tbz x you#tbz x Y/N#tbz x (Y/n)#the boyz x y/n#the boyz x (Y/n)#sangyeon x reader#jacob x reader#younghoon x reader#hyunjae x reader#juyeon x reader#the boyz kevin x reader#new x reader#q x reader#haknyeon x reader#kim sunwoo x reader#sohn eric x reader#mirisss#mirisss.request
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ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏʏᴢ
𝐎𝐭11
The Boyz hyung line types of doms & subs
❒ Smut
The Boyz maknae line types of doms & subs
❒ Smut
𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐧
Empty for now....
𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐨𝐛
Empty for now....
𝐘𝐨��𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐧
Empty for now....
𝐇𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐣𝐚𝐞
Empty for now....
𝐉𝐮𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐧
It's called Karma
❒ Angst, Smut
𝐊𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐧
Empty for now....
𝐍𝐞𝐰
Empty for now....
𝐐
Random texts with boyfriend Q
❒ Smau, fluff
𝐇𝐚𝐤𝐧𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐧
Empty for now....
𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐰𝐨𝐨
Empty for now....
𝐄𝐫𝐢𝐜
Empty for now....
#Spotify#fanfiction#scenarios#headcannons#fluff#kpop#kpop scenarios#scenario#smau#the boyz masterlist#the boyz smut#the boyz scenarios#the boyz#the boyz sangyeon#the boyz jacob#the boyz younghoon#the boyz hyunjae#the boyz juyeon#the boyz kevin#the boyz new#the boyz q#the boyz haknyeon#the boyz sunwoo#the boyz eric#the boyz x reader#the boyz x you#the boyz x male reader#the boyz x y/n
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Juicy Lover (Sub!Juyeon x Femdom Reader) Chapter Two
Story Warning: Femdom
Chapter Warning: Cum eating, anal (m receiving), degradation (slut and whore), eating Juyeon's ass like a Golden Corral Buffett, oral (f receiving), pegging, you referring to your strap as a dick, Juyeon calls you daddy
Word count: 1472
Part 1 Here
Your phone buzzes on the nightstand and snaps you out of your sleep.
You look over at your phone and peel Chani's arm from around your waist. You grab your phone to swipe it to life, and the name Princess pops up on your phone.
"Hello?" you answer. Your voice is deeper from drinking tequila on a Tuesday night.
"Mistress. Can you open the door? Please?" Juyeon whispers into the phone. You spring out of your bed and slide your feet across the hardwood floor.
Your feet sprint against the cold floor underneath you, and you race to the door.
The last thing you need is a scandal happening, and he has to go on a hiatus because he got caught at your place.
You swing the door open and pull him into your place. You close the door behind him and slam your body against his.
A slow grin appears on his face due to your immediate dominance.
"Touch me, please," Juyeon whimpers underneath you and is still pressed against your wooden door.
You open his trench coat and see he has on a black supreme sports bra and joggers. You can see the matching underwear underneath it.
"So, needy," You whisper against his warm ear, and your hand trails down the middle of his chest. You nibble on his ear, and you tell him. "We have to be quiet."
Juyeon nods in agreeance, and your lips move down to kiss on the center of his neck.
You kiss along, and then you get to the right side of it. You lick across him to tease Juyeon because you know that alone will get him off.
"If you follow directions, then I will give you everything you want," you instruct him.
"Yes, mistress," he whispers against your lips. There's something about Juyeon that drives you crazy.
You never imagined your relationship would turn into something like this, but you have grown to embrace this side of yourself.
A side of yourself that you would have never thought in a million years existed inside of you. But, you embrace your dark feminine energy with a warm welcome.
Your hand interlocks with his, bringing it to your lips to kiss it. You hold onto it and lead him into your playroom. It's already prepared for your intimate sessions because you never know when he will come over.
You grab the key from your pocket and unlock it. You slide your hand along the wall and turn on the light. You grab your control and switch it to the purple setting.
You close the door behind you. It feels so good to have him in your space without any interruptions.
You aren't worried about waking up your bestie because your playroom is soundproof. You lock the door to ensure you can enjoy your night.
You walk over to the couch in the middle of the floor, and Juyeon stands by the door. Your core is throbbing, and you can't wait to experience him.
Tonight, you are in a giving mood. He did show up, and your time was cut off earlier because of your friend date with Chani. So, you feel like Juyeon deserves some much-needed attention.
You remove your baggy t-shirt and toss it behind you. You slip out of your sweatpants. You see Juyeon's eyes widen when he sees your black lace body suit.
"Did you miss me?"
"Always. Mistress. I need to stop being so jealous. Can you blame me?" He asks.
"You do. But, you don't have anything to worry about. Now come here," you instruct.
"Use me then. Fuck me like I'm your whore," Juyeon gets down on his knees and crawls over to you.
His words make your heart flutter, and this is what you love hearing from him.
"I want you to ride me," you say. Juyeon is between your legs.
"May I taste you first?"
You spread your legs in front of him. You don't even care about the back and forth arguing from earlier.
None of it means shit because you get to get off. You love these intimate moments between you two.
Juyeon pushes the back the crotch part of your body suit.
Juyeon gives your pussy little kitten licks each time, making you moan out his nickname.
"Fuck, Juicy. I've missed your tongue," You spread your legs wider and push his head so you can feel it even more.
"You taste so good, Mistress," Juyeon kisses your pussy and causes your body to shudder. You work your pussy against his face.
You feel your juice leak down, and Juyeon doesn't miss a beat. He licks up your essence and licks your slit. He plunges his tongue deep inside of you.
Your hips start to buck, and you grab onto the couch. You look into his eyes. Why does sex with him have to be amazing after arguing?
Are you the drama?
"Fuck, I'm going cum!" You cry out. Your body feels like mush when he latches onto your clit.
"Daddy's little whore," you moan out, and he sticks a finger inside your pussy and sucks off the juice. You explode, and your orgasm ripples through your body. You ride it out and let go.
Juyeon kisses your inner thigh, and you still feel the aftershocks of your climax.
"Fuck," you lean back against the couch. You take a moment to gather yourself and collect yourself.
You close your eyes for a bit, and you open your eyes to see Juyeon standing with lube and your strap. He's now just in his sports bra and underwear.
"Fuck me good, please," Juyeon says.
You grab your tools and put on your strap.
"Lean over the couch," you tell him. He does exactly what you requested. You admire how beautiful his ass looks for you.
"What's our safe word?"
"Levitating," he repeats.
"Good boy," you say.
You pull down his underwear and remove them off him. You spread his cheeks to see that he's waxed for you. You love when he takes the time to take care of himself to please you.
"You waxed for me?" A smile curls on your lips.
"Always... I lo-" Before he could finish, you shove your tongue inside of him. His moan is damn near instant, and you tongue fuck him.
You hold onto his waist and work your tongue into him. You missed giving this type of intimate pleasure.
"Mistress.. please.. feels too... too good," Juyeon whines and grips the arm of the couch while you are behind him. You stroke his dick while you eat him.
"I know it does," you moan into him and your work hand along his length.
He's so hard from feeling your tongue exploring him just the way he likes it.
"I can't wait to watch you come undone on my strap," you moan against his ass. Your tongue comes out of him, and you put lube on your fingers.
You replace your tongue with your fingers, and he grinds himself against your fingers. "Mistress.. you know how to make me feel good. I love you so much."
"You're just saying that."
"I mean it."
You stick another finger inside of him, and now he's ready to take the strap. You lie back on the couch, and you wait for him.
"Get on this dick, hoe," you say. He loves when you degrade him and tease him. It turns him on even more. You add lube on your strap so you can bounce him on it.
Juyeon straddles your lap, and he slowly slides down on your lubricated strap-on.
"Yes, mistress. Fuck," Juyeon works himself slow. You hold onto his hips, and he rides you back and forth.
"Look at you being a whore on my strap. Do your fans know how dirty you are? How much a slut you are for me?" You taunt him.
He strokes his dick while he's taking you inside.
"Fuck.. you make me this way," Juyeon moans out.
"You know I love you too, Juicy," you slip a bit out of your dom role, but you are a gentle dom, so you are going to make sure you affirm him.
You push him back against the couch and stretch his legs back. You take control and start pounding his asshole.
"Mmm.. your ass is so good. You like taking my dick, Slut?"
"Yes, yes.. I do," Juyeon's whining with his legs on your shoulders. You got him folded up like a pretzel in such an intimate way.
He comes hard against his stomach, and you pull out. You go down and lick it off his chest.
"Thank you, mistress. I needed that," Juyeon says.
You rub some against his lip. "Taste yourself, Princess."
Juyeon licks himself off your lips and slips his tongue into your mouth. You two get lost in a kiss.
Part 3 Final
#lee juyeon#tbz juyeon#juyeon x reader#the boyz juyeon#juyeon x y/n#juyeon x you#the boyz smut#the boyz x y/n#the boyz x reader#the boyz#tbz#tbz smut#tbz x reader#tbz scenarios#sub! idol#sub!kpop#dom!y/n#dom!reader#fem!dom#kpop fanfic#ambw smut
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🔞 The Boyz - Thots 🔞
Each of their preferences in bed & also ideas for future y/n drabbles:
*Sangyeon - Up for anything. Whatever you’re in the mood for, he’ll give
*Jacob - Also up for whatever you want, but make it in cute pajamas
*Younghoon - Eating pussy. He’s all about driving you crazy with just his tongue
*Hyunjae - Degradation kink. He likes to be called a dumb slut and used
*Juyeon - Slow & romantic sex. A very firm “ladies first” policy
*Kevin - Pegging. Do I really need to explain this one?
*Chanhee - His love of photography extends to your sex life. Behind a lot of encryption of course
*Changmin - Kinky. He wants to be in charge
*Haknyeon - He wants to make you laugh even in the middle of sex
*Sunwoo - Lots of build up or foreplay. He wants you ready to jump him
*Eric - Slow & romantic like Juyeon, but add a possessive streak
#minors dni#the boyz hard hours#the boyz x reader#the boyz x y/n#the boyz hard thoughts#the boyz fanfic
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𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞
Pairing: Eric x fem!reader
Genre: Fluff, established relationship
Summary: Studying sucks, but it sucks less when you have your sweet boyfriend by your side.
Warning: None
Notes: Just finished exams and omg, it was the worst week ever. I think I slept like two to three hours per day. 🫠
This week you were living a literal hell, it was exams week. You hated them more than anything in the world and of course you didn’t like to study.
You weren’t the best student but you had pretty decent grades. What made you a not so great student was the fact that you loved procrastinating, which you had been doing until an hour ago.
You had an important exam tomorrow morning and it was getting late, so you had to start soon.
You had learned from your most reliable source (a tiktoker) about the pomodoro method and how having a study buddy helped a lot.
So you decided to FaceTime your boyfriend, Eric, who was on tour now with his group. He was always your support system and biggest fan so you knew that he would be helpful.
“Stop distracting me by looking at me like that.” You giggled as you paused your studying for a minute and looked at him through the screen.
“Like what, sweets?”
“Like you’re in love with me or something.”
“But I’m in love with you.” He laughed. “I thought we had established that a long time ago.”
“Well yeah, but it’s distracting me.” You pouted. “You know I have the attention span of a fish.”
“But I can’t stop looking at you, you’re too pretty.” He smiled sweetly.
“Stooop.” You covered your reddened face. Which made him laugh.
“Okay, okay, I’ll stop.” He smiled. “When can I look again?”
“When I finish my 20 minutes, in my breaks you can do anything.”
“Okay, I like that.”
Eric kept his promise and only really interacted with you when you where resting. Well, almost, he kept glancing at you from time to time, thinking of how cute you looked. And admiring your dedication and hard work.
════ ⋆★⋆ ════
The Boyz masterlist || Main masterlist
#blossominghunnie#tbz#the boyz#eric sohn#eric sohn x fem!reader#eric x fem!reader#eric sohn x reader#tbz eric#eric sohn imagines#the boyz eric#eric sohn fluff#eric sohn imagine#son youngjae#son youngjae imagines#eric x reader#eric imagines#eric fluff#tbz x reader#tbz imagines#tbz scenarios#tbz x you#tbz x y/n#tbz x fem!reader#tbz fluff#the boyz x reader#the boyz imagines#the boyz x you#the boyz x y/n#the boyz x fem!reader#the boyz fluff
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The Boyz m.list
A = angst | S = suggestive | F = fluff | H = horror | D = dark | P = potential trigger warning | TW = triggering content | R = romance | PL = platonic | AU = alternate universe | SM = social media au | M = mini series | O = random | C = collab | Q = request
*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:
Request are: open
OT11
Sangyeon
Jacob
Younghoon
Hyunjae
Juyeon
Kevin
Chanhee // New
Ji Changmin // Q
Ju Haknyeon
Sunwoo
Eric
Main m.list
#sangyeon x reader#jacob bae x reader#younghoon x reader#hyunjae x reader#juyeon x reader#kevin moon x reader#chanhee x reader#ji changmin x reader#ju haknyeon x reader#haknyeon x reader#sunwoo x reader#eric son x reader#son youngjae x reader#the boyz x reader#tbz x reader#tbz x y/n#tbz x you#the boyz x you#the boyz x y/n
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❥classifieds (m)
↳ 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.
#juyeon smut#the boyz smut#tbz smut#juyeon x reader#juyeon x you#juyeon x y/n#juyeon scenarios#juyeon imagines#the boyz x reader#the boyz x you#the boyz x y/n#the boyz scenarios#the boyz imagine#tbz x reader#tbz x you#tbz x y/n#tbz scenarious#tbz imagines
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abendrot ✦ l. sangyeon
note : i cried so many times writing/imagining this. what do i now that it is finished. lee sangyeon the man that u are…… </3
wc : 1.1k. rekindled flames. alt title - oranges, sunsets, and promises to keep
ABENDROT • NOUN.
the color of the sky while the sun is setting.
the sun sets over the same skyline you haven’t seen in three years. your hometown stands still against the push of time, memories unlocking themselves one by one with each step down the worn sidewalk. oranges and reds and yellows bleed across your skin like the fresh fruit you’d crushed in smaller hands, back when life was much more forgiving with you and your mistakes.
back when life still let you enjoy your time spent with him.
you haven’t heard his laugh in three years. the loudness of it all despite priding himself with composure—loose, wild, free. undeniably him. the memories pang against your chest like a melancholic drum beat.
the plastic bag curled in your left hand crinkles against your jacket with gentle rustles that mimic the wind that brushes past your ears. distracting enough to not hear anything. distracting enough to pause and wonder if you’re just hearing things. that after all this time, your name still sounds the same coming from his mouth.
orange spills across his cheek and into dirt brown hair, reminiscent of dirtied knees and socks and leaves stuck in between strands, reminiscent of citrus in his shampoo and study sessions that ran way too late as you talked the night away. you inhale despite yourself, fingers tightening around the bag as tangerine wafts sharply under your nose.
reminiscent of a nervous first kiss under the same tree you left him under three years ago. its branches sway freely without the weight of burdened fruit, mediator between you and the boy you once loved.
or love. loved? you don’t know anymore. haven’t been, since you told him you were moving to the city and he didn’t want to leave his mother alone.
the first words he utters in the distance between you two isn’t what you expect. it isn’t i missed you or you’re back or even why are you here again? it’s been three years and you don’t answer the phone anymore.
it’s, “you missed orange season.”
kind, lighthearted, open. an olive branch after leaving him. the bridge of your nose burns, plastic wrinkling under your grip. do not cry.
“you still use that god awful shampoo,” you reply, and his face lights up just as the sun shines its brightest in gold and it’s too much, suddenly too much for your heart. his smile is still the same too, easygoing. it was what had drawn you to him, after all.
you’re convinced to stay for a while, to sit on the bench scratched countless times over with initials and names of teenagers who didn’t have responsibilities looming over their heads just yet. you don’t look down, knowing you’ll look for yours marked with his. knowing you’ll find the etched evidence of a promise you failed to keep. knowing—
“i would have waited for you, you know.”
you hate how light his voice sounds. you hate how even though you know you sit with the broken shards of his heart in your hands, he still speaks to you like you never left, like conversation is easy to grasp knowing you what did.
you hate it. the plastic bag drops into the grass.
“don’t say that.” the words are spat into the open air with more bitterness than you would have liked but your heart aches. it aches. “don’t say those kinds of things to me. i left for selfish reasons, and—” i don’t deserve your kindness, you want to say. you bite your tongue and squeeze your eyes shut instead.
“i would,” he repeats calmly, “have waited for you.”
the sad part is that you know. you know he would have waited. it’s why you didn’t pick up the phone when he called, scared to hear his voice and resolve to crumble. scared to tell him the reason why you left wasn’t because of school, that your plans to go to university together didn’t fall through because you didn’t tell him you got into one in the city instead one near home.
scared to tell him you left because you didn’t know how to handle loving someone like him.
“why? you—i—you could have had better. i left you under the same damn tree we are sitting under.” your laugh is clipped, fingers curled into your jacket. “i crushed your heart, for fuck’s sake—why do you still care?”
i let you go because you couldn’t. i was too small for the love you had for me then. i didn’t know. i didn’t know. i’m sorry.
he finally looks at you then. bunched into your coat a size too big on you, trembling hands hidden in your pockets. his gaze is patient, understanding. horribly so, piercing through you to stare into the depths of your soul. it hurts.
“you left,” he agrees. you don’t see him do it but you know his fingers trace the outline of your names in the wood. “but you never gave me a reason to hate you. you have to understand that.”
“i’m not deserving of it, i—”
“that’s for me to decide.”
defeat tastes like the sweet tang of the clementines you’d shared, before, and now, too. it’s sweet, you think, picking the grocery bag off the ground and pulling one out, like out times. olive branching through childhood memories. he peels the skin off carefully, one continuous strip slowly revealing the ripe contents, and the smell hits your nose instantly.
home. citrus staining your fingers, under the setting sun. with him. just like before. in the moment, now. maybe you’ll meet like this, under the same tree again, three years or so from now.
you follow a stray line of juice run down his arm, and catch it with your own sticky fingers before it stains his sleeves. the action makes you freeze, eyes widening to stare like a deer caught in the headlights. your hand yanks back as if burned–it might as well have been, heart racing at the open way he looks at you after–and your curse your thoughtless actions to hell and back. what were you doing? you’d lost your privilege to be carefree with him the moment you hesitated three years ago.
will it ever stop hurting so much? you love him. you do.
carefully, his hands move to take yours in his, and the trembling stops at once. tuned to him, like you always have been. his fingers interlace with yours and you finally allow yourself to cry. hot tears cascade down your cheeks.
“i’m sorry.” i love you. “i missed you.” i love you.
“is there space for me in your life, still?”
the sun finally sets behind the skyline, slipping away as new promises weave together. ones you know you’ll try your hardest to fulfill.
“i’ll make space for you. i will.”
“that’s all i ever wanted.” i love you, too.
back home ⟡ the archive ⟡ join my taglist ⟡ last post
#tbz#the boyz#tbz x y/n#tbz x you#tbz x reader#tbz fluff#tbz fic#the boyz x reader#the boyz x you#the boyz x y/n#the boyz fic#the boyz fluff#lee sangyeon#tbz sangyeon#the boyz sangyeon#sangyeon x reader#sangyeon x you#sangyeon x y/n#sangyeon fluff#sangyeon fic#this fic is literally my baby i. im#[shaking visibly] like it’s fine#shua’s archive
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cupid's mistake | tbz kim sunwoo
“Now that’s a mistake that I can live with.”
PAIRING » the boyz kim sunwoo x fem!reader (ft. nct's na jaemin)
TROPE/AU » friends to lovers, non-idol au!, high school au!
GENRE » THIS WAS SO FLUFFY UWU, but also add those angsts!!, SLIGHTLY suggestive (one makeout scene, sunwoo leaves kissing marks near your collarbones), love triangle...?, (kinda) slowwww burn, i love supportive and attentive sunwoo who gives so much love to the reader, MUTUAL PINING (they're both blind aye), sunwoo is an idiot because he PUSHES THE READER AWAY GRRR, cliché cause i live for this hehe, sunwoo babysits the reader's little bro (cutie sunwoo), sunwoo is the type to give the reader physical space because she's overwhelmed, reader blushing at sunwoo, a terrible attempt at comedy, oh...i think i'm in love with kim sunwoo again (i literally changed my bias to hyunjae like a month ago---)
WORD COUNT » 13,061 (hi yes, izzy is entering her long wc era!!)
ESTIMATED READING TIME » i'm scared to put this down 😭 forgive me!!
WARNINGS (lmk if i missed anything!) » suggestive!!, reader is a lightweight (not sure if this is a warning), reader uses alcohol to distract herself (sunwoo will come to the rescue tho!), reader has a bad schema for men, incredibly fast proofread once
navi/masterlist!! 🤍 part of 'especially to you...'
hands down the hardest story i've EVER written (including my 40+ wips) and i stopped multiple times because it explores a huge part of my life that makes me super vulnerable. the internet may judge me after this but i'm going to stay strong for myself; they don't know what i've been through.
i'm glad that i have met idols who have at least helped my schema for men. mark lee, na jaemin, cho seungyoun (woodz), lee jaehyun (hyunjae) and kim sunwoo (sorry i was so harsh on you 😭 i'm very thankful for your existence no wonder what anyone else believes and thinks; and people can believe what they want to believe because i'm tired of trying to make them believe something else).
izzy...
if there is one internet trend (?) that you should take seriously, it's that: not all men are the same.
and you know that. you've seen it with your guy friends and the teachers that you were close to in high school. they're not like the ones who hurt you. i know you're scared and with what you've been through, i would like to at least believe that it's valid. i really hope that you keep going and keep fighting.
thank you for reading @heemingyu @mmoonbaee !! love our chaotic trio!! 🥰
You’ve rejected Kim Sunwoo before.
Twice, apparently.
It left the rest of your friend group flabbergasted when they heard that you did something so incredible. When asked why you rejected the friend that has stuck with you since the beginning of your hellish high school days, the only response you gave them was a fake smile with your eyebrows knitted together and your eyes roaming around the room, avoiding the intense (and totally unnecessary) curiosity in their gaze.
The truth is that you really do see why people fall in love with Kim Sunwoo.
You agree with the fact that he’s a romantic person and would absolutely take care of his partner well. You can vouch for this with the number of times he almost faceplanted on the very non-slippery cement when he saw you on the other side of the road, excited to finally see his dearest best friend. You can confidently vouch for him when he stubbornly gives his favourite hoodie for you to use, not hesitating to make sure you’re warm even though he knows he’s going to be bedridden. You can brag about your best friend’s selfless personality, telling them how Sunwoo went out of his way to comfort you along the beach at night when you said you were feeling empty.
Out of everyone in the world, you’re the one who knows best that Sunwoo has always been a caring person. Like that time when you both finally became adults and he waited for his first sip of alcohol to be with you. Embarrassingly, you’re much more lightweight than you both thought but even though Sunwoo could barely balance his steps, that didn’t stop him from giving you a piggyback ride walk to your house where he also really embarrassingly this time, actually faceplanted in front of your mother as he misses the step down the stairs when leaving.
So yes, you understand why people have massive heart eyes whenever he’s around.
But to you, he’s just your best friend. One that you hope would be there for you every step of the way even after you go on to the next chapters of your life.
The first confession was a quick one, a simple “Have you ever thought of dating me?” from Sunwoo and with a playful disgusted look, you simply respond with “Ew, no way.”
But the second one is more serious for Sunwoo. His heart was beating so fast that it was strong enough to make his whole body fall onto the ground; maybe it would’ve been better for the Earth to swallow him up so that he’d never have to face you ever again. He didn’t know what took over him and where the sudden urge came from but he meant every single word that he said—and the hues of red and pink on both his cheeks show his true feelings for you (which you missed).
But maybe Sunwoo overestimated how confident he could be around you because as soon as he sputtered “I like you. Should we start dating?” He saw the way your fingers stopped their aggressive tapping on the black squares of your keyboard, freezing and halting for a bit more before your shocked eyes met his nervous ones. Scared to ruin this perfect friendship that he already has with you, he backs out of his words, shaking his head and letting out his forceful rehearsed laugh that got you both kicked out of the library. Though the day could have been the start of something new, he still relished the way he managed to hear at least the rapid complaints fly out of your lips. You’ve been stressed out over the English essay that you’ve been so distant, so at least even though you beat him in a game or rock-paper-scissors for food, the empty wallet that he’s left with after, filled the loneliness in his heart.
Gosh even when you’re mad, he finds you adorable.
But it’s been three years since the second confession and now three years after, Kim Sunwoo is still next to you. Call him a loser—a hopeless romantic—but he would argue the term, telling the people around him that he has his reasons.
“What are we doing for Valentine’s Day?”
The question is not a weird one between you both. Maybe you should’ve said the just-friends boy and girl version of ‘Galentine’s Day’ or whatever the kids these days call it because Sunwoo’s heartbeat would always spike at the mention of the couple’s holiday. He’s always spent the day with you and how could you refuse when he assures you that you can leave your wallet at home?
In truth, he just didn’t want other people to take you out. He tried to fathom the image of you receiving that giant teddy bear, a heart-patterned bow around the neck and maybe the word ‘love’ embroidered on its fluffy white tummy. The only smile in his head is yours and the date that is not him, and he couldn’t help but notice the constricting muscle around his heart and the churning of his stomach.
Kim Sunwoo will always root for you. If your happiness is with someone else, then he wouldn’t dare to take that away from you. He just wants to let you know his true feelings someday—if he could.
Sunwoo swivels his chair around, a quiet hum gave out as an answer for now. He hasn’t thought much about this year, his part-time job and full-time high school student occupying his thoughts a bit too much more than he would like. Usually, he would have a list of things to do but as responsibilities piled up, the wants decreased and with how you’re practically stuck with each other either way, he manages to check off most of the things in his places to go list.
You’re unaware of the longing eyes that fixed upon you as you kept your eyes directed to the ceiling, phone raised above your eyes. You made yourself comfortable on Sunwoo’s bed, his blanket going past your chest and covering your lower body from the blasting air conditioner. Your arms are getting a bit sore but you just want to know if the main characters in the drama would kiss soo—
“Alright, that’s enough internet for you today.” The device is snatched out of your hands, your arms cheering in relief as they plop down on the bouncy material. In refute to his actions, your back straightens but everything happened in a quick three-second interval that you didn’t realise that Sunwoo was already bending down and your forehead collided with his. “Oh my Go—” Sunwoo exclaims, his butt hitting the floor in surprise.
“Serves you right!” You exclaim, begrudgingly rubbing the area with your palm. “Why were you so close?!”
“I was telling you stuff but you weren’t paying attention!”
“You could’ve shouted it!”
“I called your name thrice?!”
“Oh my God! Okay, what was it that you wanted to say?”
All words get stuck in his throat. Even though his head and bottom hurt with the two critical hits at the most unexpected time, he couldn’t help but shy his face away with the way you blew the loose strand that blocks your vision, paired with the slight jut of your little lip as you turn your attention to him.
Sunwoo stutters, gulping when he sees your raised eyebrows from the corner of his eye. “U-Up to you.” Another gulp and wandering eyes, “Is there nothing you want to do?”
“Oh but,” you recall the favour that your mum asked from yesterday. “My mum asked if I could babysit my brother because she has plans already.” Heaving an apologetic sigh, feeling bad for letting Sunwoo down.
“Hey no,” an idea comes to mind as he leisurely crosses his legs. “I love your brother! How about we just spend the day together with him?”
Your eyes narrow suspiciously to the comment he once made about kids, “I thought you said you hate kids.”
“No, I said I hate those who are cuter than me.”
A scandalous gasp from you, “Are you calling my brother ugly?! I’m telling him and my mu—”
“No!” Realising his mistake, he quickly untangles his legs and tackles you back down on the bed instantly, his bigger build toppling over yours easily. “That’s not what I meant! He's an exception!” It's unclear whether his sobs are real or not at this point. “Your mum loves me! Don’t do this to me!”
“Get off me, you stinky raccoon!”
The gym resonates with the squeaks of sixty-something shoes on its polished surface. The sound easily makes you squirm, hating that it screeches against your eardrums so violently. A chuckle is heard at the sight of the displeasure written on your face.
“Very annoying.” The honey-like voices your thoughts. “Would you like to borrow my headphones for a while?”
Instantly, you’re met with his popular gummy smile, the one that swoons everyone in your school. If people aren’t swooning over your best friend, they most probably are falling for the man who made himself comfortable next to the gym steps where you sat. His features are nothing like Sunwoo’s, softer and more approachable with the way his eyes sparkle even more with the help of the shine from above. Because this isn’t sport class, he wears his everyday uniform, his collar is properly presented and not a single speck of ramen soup makes its mark on the annoyingly white cotton. Even with the physical exercise he did, he still looks dashing and neat, wondering how his messy hair still looks attractive—but then again, men with messy hair have always captivated your heart. Jaemin’s kind personality is the final cherry on top and with how you usually have conversations like these when he’s benched or having a break, you’re certainly one of the girls who is attracted to him in no time. Your brown eyes travel further down his dazzling smile, to the black headset on his open palm.
A wave from Na Jaemin to your dazed face pulls you back to reality and you nod wordlessly to the question before. Like the gentleman he is, Jaemin doesn’t even ask you to turn to him but instead adjusts to your line of vision, slightly making the gap between the earpads bigger before resting the cushion perfectly for you. The way he did so was gentle, even tucking your hair strands behind your ear.
“Better?” Another wordless nod. Jaemin lets out an airy chuckle at your pursed lips, moving back beside you. “Here for Sunwoo?”
“And to kill time, I suppose.”
Your eyes wander back to the boy who’s working hard on the soccer field. It’s a usual routine for you to wait for his weekly soccer training so that you both can walk home together. Usually at this time, your nose would be buried in your textbooks, catching up on the work you missed due to the lack of sleep from the previous night. Usually, as well, the practice would be outdoors, the same squeaky sound being non-existent, the same one that ripped you out of your focus since the start of the practice round.
The whistle blares and the coach shouts at the team for a five-minute break. Sunwoo stops his jogging, hands on his knees as he leans to catch his breath while the rest of the team sends encouraging slaps on his back to their dear captain. Sunwoo sends a playful one back to their buttcheeks, the rowdy group enjoying the little gap before they have to get back in the zone. But this is when Sunwoo’s eyes fall upon his teammate and his best friend not too far away. His eyes soften at the way you just blink at Jaemin’s smile, betting that you’re not paying attention to a single thing that he’s saying. Unconsciously, he doesn’t realise how his hands clenched at the growing redness on your cheeks but Sunwoo doesn’t look away even when he walks to get his water bottle.
“Oh.” Eric teasingly remarks. “That’s not a good look, Sunwoo.”
“Shut up.” He mumbles back to his closest teammate. Even though he forces his back on you, he can’t help but steal obvious lovesick glances back.
“Jaemin said he’s going to ask your dearest bestie out on a date for Valentine's.”
Sunwoo tries his best not to let the comment get to him. “Well, she’s busy already.”
“With you?” Eric questions his trailing voice. “The guy she rejected?”
“Shut up!” Sunwoo groans to the boy, swinging his arm around his neck for a headlock. “You’re actually so annoying, Sohn. The whole cohort knows because of you!”
The poor boy begs for mercy, sending hits to his friend’s stomach. And Sunwoo does let go, poking his tongue out at the boy after. Overdramatically, Eric sends one back, calling mischievous names to the boy who is looking over to you once more. He couldn’t force himself to look away from the vital information that Eric said. Without knowing, his feet stride over to you both, finally catching the words from Jaemin’s moving lips.
“Can I take you out on Valentine’s Day? Are you free?”
Sunwoo sees the gears turning in your head and he pleads that you would reject the offer, pleading that you didn’t forget your words from last night. He’s looking forward to the day, especially when he researched a bunch of things that your brother likes, combining with the things you like to make sure the day will be well spent. But the breath he takes stops at his throat when you just continue to stare at Jaemin with wide eyes. Sunwoo might’ve imagined it, but he swears he could see the corner of your lips rising, your head probably thinking of a fun, romantic date with Jaemin.
It’s obvious to him even on the other side of the gym, that Cupid has shot his arrow.
“Yeah.”
The answer didn’t come from you, the response was too deep to be your timbre. The headphones did their job well, masking Sunwoo’s steps and leaving you confused by the clear and loud answer he gave. Excited at the confirmation of your empty schedule, Sunwoo’s heart churns at the way Jaemin excitedly holds your hands, turning your confused head tilt to him into another blushing one. Unfortunately, you were unable to say a word to any of the two boys, the coach beckoning everyone in the team over for the final part of their practice.
Faintly, you hear Jaemin saying that he’ll contact you and that you can return his headphones tomorrow in class. You just watch the way Jaemin hops back to the rest of the team while Sunwoo follows closely behind, his shoulders slightly slumping as he drags his feet to make that noise you hate.
The walk home isn’t as bad as you thought it would be. Sunwoo acts like the gym didn’t happen and you raise your eyebrows at his suspicious actions of him walking slightly in front of you even though he still talks about the parts of the day when you weren’t with him. With the slight gap, you observe the way his front bangs slump over his vision, covering his sullen eyes. The hands inside his pockets continue to tense and he tries his best to ignore the obvious crease between your eyebrows. He doesn’t even question the short answers you came up with in his storytelling. Even now as you arrive at your front door, Sunwoo doesn’t bring the topic up, choosing to send his usual smile and ‘see you tomorrow’.
But you refuse to let his actions go. “What was that all about back there?”
It puts Sunwoo’s feet rooted to the ground and he feigns an innocent look. “You know,” he starts now with a smirk on his face, “Na Jaemin could totally figure out that you have the biggest crush on him with the way you looked at him with those googly eyes of yours.”
“I do not have googly eyes when I look at Na Jaemin!”
“Sure, you don’t.” Rolling his eyes, “You were close to drolling over him back there.”
You could tell that he was just avoiding the subject and prolonging touching it until you just let it go. “Sunwoo.” The tone of your voice tells him that you're seriously looking for answers, “Why’d you say that back there? I thought we were babysitting my brother together?”
“It’s fine.” He swats his hand in the air. “You go have fun and I’ll look over the child myself.”
“But I—”
“Can you just stop complaining and go in? I’m tired from practice.” Sunwoo cuts you off, turning the doorknob and pushing you in with small strength. “See you tomorrow!”
He does close the door on your face, ignoring the inhale you take and walking away before you start rebutting his words. But with that, you also missed telling Sunwoo of your mum who stands leisurely behind him and when your mum greets him, Sunwoo gets the scare of his life, yelping and crouching to the floor, a hand over his chest.
“Serves him right for cutting me off twice.”
At this time, you didn’t realise the ache in your heart, too busy chuckling at his misery as your mum helped the poor boy before he disappeared out of your sight with multiple polite bows.
Now, Sunwoo is left to wallow in his stupidity. The devil in his head even shakes his head disapprovingly and the angel desperately tries to cheer him up, telling him that everything will be fine but it has no effect on the distraught boy. He lets out all the swear words that he knows, mumbling them to himself, criticising his past actions. A headache starts to form and he is unable to walk a straight line on the well-leveled road.
“You’re an idiot, Kim Sunwoo.”
He replays the earlier scene. The way your eyes fall on Jaemin fondly, the way all words seem to be lost when he speaks to you and the way you freeze when Jaemin holds your hand in his. His feet stop dragging on the stone when he spots an ice cream truck and the sweet fragrance of your favourite flavour. Even with small things like this, he thinks of you.
He observes the two friends who approach the vehicle, recognising the uniform as the same as the ones he has on. Judging by the satisfaction on the girl’s face and the complaints of the boy, Sunwoo assumes that the shorter one probably won a bet or something. His mind wanders to you once more, the dynamic of his two underclassmen similar to the one he shares with you.
More calm and accepting that he has probably lost you to Na Jaemin, if asked why he still chooses to stick with you after two rejections, Kim Sunwoo can.
The fastest and simple answer is that you don’t have a good schema for love. It was shattered the moment that you found out that your dad cheated on your mum four years ago. Your family fell apart shortly after your dad packed everything and left, leaving your mum alone as the sole parent when you were still trying to fully understand the world around you.
The rest of the world doesn't see how the separation affected you. However, Sunwoo was there during the times when you cried your eyes out, taking the frustrated punches on his chest, when you declared that you would never fall in love, scared of falling into the same fate as your mother especially when your dad has always voiced out that he loves his family and would always stay with them.
The world doesn't see how you hide behind his reassuring back whenever a male is too close for your liking. They don't see how you practically hold onto his arm with anxiety after a person confesses to you even though you're thankful that they look at you fondly. They don't see the fear in your eyes like Sunwoo has seen every single part of it.
When you would tease each other, like the time when he tackles you onto the bed, that's an exception. Sunwoo has always paid attention to your actions, both conscious and unconscious. He knows all about when you and when to keep his distance.
Thirty centimetres, sixty sometimes, and he would always wait for you to close the gap, stealing glances behind to make sure you were still following. Ninety-nine point nine per cent of the time, you would pick up your pace and Sunwoo would purposely slow down and the gap between the side of his arm and body would get bigger with each step you grow closer to him. When you clutch onto his arm again, he sends you that understanding gaze, mouthing a little 'hi' or 'hello' before facing forward again with newfound happiness.
The other point one is you asking if he could come back to stand beside you. But again, he would never ever touch you first and even when you arrive at your doorstep with no progress, Sunwoo would still look at you, reminding you of how proud he is and winks playfully to lift the corners of your lips before sending his 'see you tomorrow' still with happiness as his main aura.
It breaks Sunwoo’s heart whenever he sees you like that. That's the reason why he took his second confession back.
So when Kim Sunwoo, selfless and rooting for your genuine happiness, sees the different gaze that you send Na Jaemin, he can’t help but push his feelings aside. Plus, Na Jaemin is a good guy so he feels more reassured setting you up with the ace striker in the soccer team.
Cupid frowns down at the boy, his wings flapping sadly at the fake smile he puts on as he continues his walk home. It’s strange how he found himself sad for the dejected boy.
“Truly an idiot you are, Kim Sunwoo.”
Back home, you rewarded yourself with a warm shower. Though your physical body was able to let loose under the light sprinkles, your eyes couldn't help but mix in the metallic water with your salty ones. The water pressure manages to swallow most of your cries but the mirror doesn't lie when you see your red eyes after.
The gulp you took is painfully dry, tired from the tears from earlier. Your reach for the bathrobe is slow, letting the air cool touch your slightly red skin after the temperature. “At least he made it clear that he doesn't like me in that way.”
The knocks against the nearby room beckons a ‘Come in!’ from you and you quickly run the sides of your fingers on your eyebags as soon as you register the young boy from the mirror.
“Sis!” Dashing towards you, headbutting your back, “I heard Ddeonu hyung will be here tomorrow night!”
It's endearing to see how the news makes the little one jump, both his hands on your arm for support. A hand ruffles his already messy nest, “Be good tomorrow, okay?”
And the response morphs the smile upside down, “You’re not gonna be with us?”
Overloading with cuteness, you couldn't help but swivel around on your vanity chair towards your sibling, your hands pressing his cheeks, “With or without me, you're going to be with Sunwoo all day anyways!” Remembering all the times when he preferred to be in Sunwoo’s arms over yours, “Just don't make the poor raccoon run around too much, okay? He's getting old.”
“Does that mean he will fly to the cloud soon?”
“No, no.” Making a mental note to tell Sunwoo and imagining the way his jaw would drop at the wild question, “He's just old and tired now.”
Though confused at the repeated answer, the child seems to let it go, shrugging in satisfaction anyway at the plans for tomorrow. The smile upturned once more and you lift the boy much to his happiness, kicking his legs when you adjust his posture on your vanity table.
“Makeup!” He exclaimed about the objects around him, open palms to mimic a twinkling motion in the air.
“Makeup!” You echo, grabbing the cushion foundation. “Do you want to make me into a Princess?”
Obviously, he would not reject the offer, snatching the round object into his palm and patting the powder onto your neck.
“I'm going to make you the prettiest sister ever and raccoon hyung won't be able to take his eyes off you!”
Cupid shakes his head once more, his belly lying on the puffy cloud. He rests his chin on his palm, wondering how the similar-sized boy is more likable to him than the two blind adults—but it's obvious because he's not the stupid one.
“Well,” clicking his tongue on the roof of his mouth, “this one is an idiot too.”
Leading up to Valentine's Day, you thought at the very least you could spend the missed day with Sunwoo but he's more than adamant about pushing you to Jaemin. Whenever he saw a window of opportunity, he would call the boy over, a big waving motion from his hand in the air.
Whenever Jaemin spots you, every part of his face lights up and yours is supposed to reciprocate the stars in his eyes. But how could you even see it when all you see is the whole universe in Sunwoo’s ones instead?
The realisation that it has always been Sunwoo scares you and it terrifies you even more that the same boy who has always given his heart to you is making the gap between you both larger, further away, more and more within arms reach for your comfort. At first, it was confusion but then every part of your aching heart just longed for his presence beside yours once more.
Jaemin reminds you of the date one last time, the final text before you part ways at the school entrance is bolded, italicised and underlined. And Sunwoo? He intruded the house way earlier than everyone expected but judging from the open arms from your mother and the way you could hear your brother’s shrieking from the other side of the house, it's obvious that you’re the only one who’s dreading the early visitor.
Speaking of the visitor, your brother made himself comfortable by sitting on his neck, hands gripping his hair to make two little pigtails. Seeing Sunwoo fit right into your family from the very start has always been heartwarming and you would've told your brother to pull on two tails if you weren't busy avoiding his eyes from the mirror.
“Look!” Sunwoo gasps to your brother, finger pointing to you, “Your sister is so pretty, isn't she?”
And it became ten times harder to keep your tears from falling.
“Thanks.” You managed to seeth out from gritted teeth.
“Come on! You're going to be late.” Reminding you of the long hand of the clock reaching the top of the circle when Jaemin promised to pick you up. “Which bag are you using?”
It's heartbreaking to see him just walk past you after the compliment, whistling leisurely as he looks through the pile of bags on the side hook of your wardrobe. You found yourself looking down at your lap, trying to shake off the nervousness and anxiety in your mind. You try your best to focus on the tension of your gripping fists, letting go and repeating to ground yourself back. The tears are starting to blur your vision but you push the sleeves of your outerwear over your knuckles and smudge them away.
The way that Sunwoo still entertains your brother as he takes the body of the bag in your direction, humming intently to see if the colour of your outfit will clash with the accessory, brings your emotions to their peak and you just want to run away from this situation. He settles on one, a victorious exclamation falling from his lips and begins stuffing your necessities himself.
“Phone,” checking off the mental list, “keys and wallet.” Your brother pointing at the lone lipstick left at the centre of the painted surface, “Ah! This too!” Putting the closed cylinder inside the small purse before the metal zips and is carefully balanced on your shoulder.
Your thankful mutter didn't go unheard by Sunwoo and so did the tinge of makeup on the sleeve that you used when he looked away for a brief moment.
“Hey!” Sunwoo cranes his head to speak to the younger, curious eyes. “Why don't you go on ahead first and pick what ramen you want?”
The kicking of his heels against his chest made him wince a bit, quickly putting your younger brother where he dashes off with his favourite food.
Throughout the whole exchange, it once again confirms the fact that Sunwoo is truly loving to the people around him. The way that he tries not to disappoint your brother, even if there are probably bruises forming from his kicking, the way that he peels his head out to make sure your brother is taking careful steps to the kitchen and finally, the beaming but adoration in his eyes when he finally lands on the casual outfit you're wearing.
“Wow.” A breathless chuckle, head empty with the sight of you.
His cheeks flushed and he couldn't help but stare at your stunning choice of outfit—if hoodies and no makeup could make his heart jump out of his chest, then he should go to the hospital because of your off-the-shoulder white top paired with the beige pleated skirt and cardigan.
“Okay?” You ask timidly, “L-Like, do I look okay?”
“You're stunning.” He says truthfully that your body goes numb, looking away from the sparkles in his eyes.
Now, that's new. “Hey…” Taking steps towards you, “What's wrong?”
But your heart is fighting so hard that you feel like you're about to give up. If Sunwoo is going to reject you, then you just want him to do it so that you can forget about all this and just go back to pretending that you will never have heart-shaped eyes for Kim Sunwoo ever again.
“Y-You’re okay with this?” The leather of your bag crinkles at your gripping question.
“Yeah,” Sunwoo answers. “Don't worry. Jaemin is a great guy.”
Your eyes widen at the comment, “No, I-I know that bu—”
But Sunwoo suddenly zooms into your face, even bending his back to make sure that you wouldn't miss the pout on his handsome face. His eyes landed on your lip-touched makeup, “Wait, can I have your lipstick? Let me retouch it for you.”
You couldn't even refute, feeling the cooling pink painting your lips, contrasting the palm on your cheek that steadies the delicate work on your lips. Why did he bother asking if he was just going to retrieve it himself? You're thankful Sunwoo can't multitask, missing the glimmer in your orbs as you try your best to keep your lips from shaking like your legs are slowly becoming. It’s clear that he didn’t know how to properly manoeuver the brush on your lips but you find yourself forgiving him even if your lips become a mess after this.
The defeated groans from his lips only made your heart swell and you take your time to look at him as if you’ve never done so before; from his eyelashes that flutter prettily, to his tongue that pokes out in concentration, it’s crazy how handsome someone can be when he's not doing anything special. The pads of his finger spread the colour, smacking his lips as a sign for you to copy which you eventually do.
“Done!” And just when your heart thought it could finally get a break, Sunwoo decides to play with it a bit more, fishing out a snap hair clip. His hands smooth any bumps that aren’t visible to the naked eye. A hand holds the side of your head gently, the other sliding the gift across your scalp carefully. “Alright, now let’s go!”
Your tears are so incredibly close to flowing but the lights of your room die like every hope of telling Sunwoo that you’re not as excited as he is for the night to come. But if this is Sunwoo’s way of completely rejecting any romantic feelings for you, then what can you do except to trudge down your hallway where even your brother wishes that you would have a fun time? The smile on your lips doesn’t reach your eyes when both boys remind you not to come home late in addition to Sunwoo’s “Text or call me if you need anything!”
You spare a final glance at the two, sombre smile plastered on your face. The last face you see is Sunwoo’s whose eyes still held on a smile even though yours has been wiped away. Maybe it was supposed to encourage you or maybe it’s nothing and you’re just reading too deep into it but if there’s one thing you know is that the night with Jaemin, even though he is a well-mannered man, a gentleman inside and out, your head couldn’t help but wish that it was Sunwoo who took you to the arcade, making sure your arms are filled with snacks and drinks.
You wished that after that, no one was there to pull your chair out, instead laughing at the way you almost tripped on air while trying to sit down. You wished that you could’ve just stared at the menu in contemplation and for Sunwoo to just choose for you so that he could silence the growling in his stomach.
Cursing the famous day as well, seeing the love around you, the couples enamoured by their partners all around you, it only made the guilt inside grow further.
By the time the night is spent, Jaemin knows that his feelings aren't reciprocated. First, it's the way you ask him to repeat his words multiple times. Second, it's the way that your eyes are blank, just your orbs staring into space. Third, it's the way that you try to discreetly check your smartwatch for notifications from your best friend at your home.
“I'm sorry.” Jaemin chuckles in response after he softly calls you out.
The boy shakes his head, hands inside his pants pockets. “I knew that you didn't like me. I guess I just wanted a chance to maybe change that once.” But then he sighs an understanding sigh, closing his eyes before fluttering them back at you, “but you're too far gone into your feelings to realise what I've been doing.”
Your eyes welled up with tears, apologetic at his words and Jaemin couldn't do much but give words of comfort after you explicitly stumbled away from his reaching hand, asking for physical space. You mutter a million apologies for today but Jaemin is respectful, convincing you that the friendship between you both won't change and that eases your mind.
“Should I text Sunwoo?” He carefully asks. “To pick you up.”
A shake of your head is what had Jaemin’s eyebrow furrowing. “It’s okay. I’ll text him right now.”
And though your makeup is a mess, transferring onto the sleeves of your cardigan more, Jaemin still thinks you're stunning, the clenching of his heart intensifying at the glitter you still managed to hold. Jaemin leaves you alone in a convenience store near your favourite beach and somehow, you manage to convince him to go on ahead first, leaving your thoughts alone in the night of love.
Your feet routinely take you along the beachside, taking shelter at the convenience store for a while, grabbing drinks and food to aid your broken heart. When you crouch for the bottle at the bottom shelf, your mind just has to remind you that someone wouldn't even let you do this, always protecting you from any wardrobe malfunction.
Your knees finally give out and the back of your thighs meet with the back of your lower leg. Your hands only clutche on the neck of the green bottle while you hide your distressed face behind the curtains that your hair made.
Thinking of it all infuriates you.
Why can't you just be more trusting towards others? Believe that not all of them are out to ridicule or make fun of you.
“Sunwoo…” You couldn't help but mumble as your tears finally painted your beige skirt darker.
Thankfully you were able to keep your emotions somewhat at bay, straightening your posture with the cooling drink in one hold. The cashier could only offer you an encouraging speech and an empathetic smile as soon as she saw the trail on your cheeks. The gesture is needed but the anxiety still weighs on your chest deeply. She must've thought that you've gone through a huge breakup on this unfortunate pinky day but you think the internal agony is worse.
For the last few hours or so, Sunwoo has been updating you with your baby brother through pictures. If only the pictures were just about the younger one and not a duo picture that once again shows that Sunwoo is a keeper when it comes to babysitting. The device is stashed in the bag that he chose from you earlier but if you could, you could honestly feed it to the sharks on the beach in front of you.
The wind provided you company, hitting your red apple-coloured cheeks to balance your rising temperature. You knew you shouldn't drink alone especially when the moon was high in the sky but you couldn't help but bask in the tide that hit the sand, pulling everything back into the body of water.
The tips of your toes are drenched and you would usually be running further away as soon as water hit your ankles but you didn't want to. It’s times like these that you’re thankful for the invention of safety shorts as you're able to sit in any posture you like without worrying. Your knees constantly bend and straighten, dragging the sand along with it and at this point, you've created a shallow hole.
“I mean,” you slur, “I’m so comfortable with Sunwoo so why can't I be the same with the others?” your eyes could only shut in self-contempt from today’s date, “And Jaemin was so respectful to me too…”
It’s frustrating that you can't trust others when they've done nothing wrong. The only thing that responded to the strike down your cheek was the last drop of liquid courage; now even objects have started mocking you.
“I have to stop relying on him,” a hiccup and a humourless laugh. “When he gets a girlfriend…” the thought cracks your heart into pieces and your knee grows closer to your chest, “Gosh, what am I doing?”
“I could ask you the same thing.”
The deep voice and a couple of deep breaths made you turn back so quickly that you fell over sideways. The boy momentarily scolds you even more, grumbling, pointing at your ruined shoes tossed aside in the sand and exhaling whilst turning his head away to catch a break from the soaked ends of your outerwear. When the worry envelops him again, Sunwoo takes a better look at your state.
His tongue clicks against the roof of his mouth loudly and the crease between his eyebrows only deepens each time his eye focuses to another part of your face.
“Did you drink?! Alone?! I told you not to drink without me!”
His initial volume made you jump a bit, especially with how he directly circles behind you to pick up the discarded, lonely bottle. Sunwoo's nagging continues, crouching beside you to your eye level with the bottle making tunes from the wind. The pout answers him, along with the way your fingers fiddle on the hem of your sleeves. You had no intention of voicing out the answer now that he knows so you just say something else.
“You actually came…”
The ‘something else’ did make his ramble stop and his intense features started to soften and melt away when your words hit him.
“Of course, I came.” Reassurance above the whispering wind, “You texted me.”
Your lips couldn't even gape open with a response because Sunwoo takes a couple of steps back, away from you. Though his body is still facing yours with his shoes pointing at you and arms around his knees, the safe distance is what makes your head hurt at the many things you could say to him.
“Did you put him to sleep?” You opted for this conversation instead.
Sunwoo’s nods just got in your peripheral vision, but your nod is the centre of his.
You let the wind break you even more, not even raising your hand to move the strands that became trapped between your lower and upper eyelids, tickling your eyes when it finally is freed. Without a doubt, you know that Sunwoo is just watching you patiently, waiting for you to tell him to drop you home or to at least talk about the night whether it be his or yours. Your nervous system couldn't help but relax in his presence.
Inside, Sunwoo wants something from you too. An indication to move further and to close the thirty-centimetre gap he has created. Just anything so that he could finally leave the coldness that nips at his trembling skin. His bangs brushes over his sight but he still has a clear view of you. The side of his head only rests on his arm as he just stares at you, humming a tune that hopefully reaches you.
“Woo.”
“Hm?”
“Do you like someone?”
A series of stuttering and unsure hums came from him. Your knees push against your chest hard, burying your head between them. Soon enough, you're convinced that the pressure is what kept your heart together after the affirmative answer.
“I…” Here goes nothing, “was supposed to be with her today and maybe ask her out officially but she had other plans and so did I.”
“Oh.” You didn't know if he heard it. You kind of wished he didn't because of how sore your throat suddenly feels. “I’m sorry, I should've been the one to take care of my brother inste—”
“She was busy too,” Sunwoo repeated, words clearer and punctuated. “It doesn't matt—”
“Will I be able to trust anyone again?”
“W-Wha—”
“Will someone ever love me the same way that you love her?”
The thoughts haunt you every night when you're asleep and now that you finally share it with someone, you lose yourself in the alcohol and blurt out the impulsive thoughts.
“W-Whoa.” Sunwoo nervously chuckles. “Did the date really go that ba—”
“Do I know her?”
“Ye—”
“Tell me. Let me make sure she's a good person.”
The only response you get is a low groan and sigh; both from Sunwoo and the guardian Cupid above you both. The moonlight twinkles the curve of the forgotten bottle but it reminds Sunwoo that you're not in your right state of mind and that you're just pressing to get the thoughts out of your head rather than truly looking for answers.
For the first time, Sunwoo took action, dusting his clothes from the damp sand. You merely watch with half-hooded eyes as he strides against the swallowing sand, your head slowly turning from the side to the front where he settles himself. Sunwoo gives you a soft tug of the corner of his lips and his dancing bangs only make him all the more attractive. He tests the waters, holding his hand out to reach yours, permission to touch you through his gaze. When you nod, he doesn't hesitate to share his body warmth starting from his bigger palms, relieved at how you seem to let out a breath that you have been holding.
“Deep breaths, bubs.”
The nickname makes you swoon and makes his instructions unclear. Though the pounding on the side of your head makes it hard for you to morph Sunwoo’s clone together, the name managed to at least get your attention. With this, he didn’t mind the way his clothes drank the seawater when he kneeled, even dragging his fabric across the surface. Sunwoo responds with a jut of his lower lip when you just shoot him a glare but your act disappears when he opens his arms wide. Without any further hesitation, your forehead rests on his chest. One of his hands cups the curve of your waist and the other threads through your silky hair. The act makes your body shudder and you find your arms start to hold his middle even tighter when he collects your hair and tosses it over to a side, his palm now covering your whole nape.
“You’re alright.” Sunwoo muses. His diverts to yours and maybe you’re just imagining the adoration dripping from his eyes but you couldn’t help to speak a bit of your mind.
“You're doing it again…”
“Doing what?”
You didn't give him a verbal answer, the shake of your head and the whines you gave were enough for him to just embrace you into his presence. Sunwoo hides you from the world when he sees the tears brimming across the eyes that he’s fallen for. Daring, he presses a kiss on the top of your head, smiling fondly at your more balanced breathing.
“Let’s go home?” The shake of your head made Sunwoo rake for more ideas. “Wanna have a sleepover at my house then?”
“No.” Muffled answer from his chest. “You’re just going to make me sleep on the floor.”
“Hey! You lost the bet last time! Don’t blame your skill issue with rock-paper-scissors on me!”
“Fine then! I’ll just stay here for the rest of the night!”
Oh, he's so in love with you. Sunwoo only coos, his heart fluttering and content when you respond to the playful war that he wages.
“I’ll let you take the bed.” A raised eyebrow is what you offer him with when you crane your head and Sunwoo could tell the suspicion that you had against his words. “I’m serious!”
“Really?”
A roll of his eyes and a scoff, “As if I’ll let you take the floor knowing that you’ll be hungover tomorrow.”
“Well,” a shaky inhale, “you could.”
“Yeah?” This time it’s his turn to have an eyebrow raised. “Why would I do that?”
“Because when you go off and date someone, you won’t be able to keep doing whatever this is.”
“Yeah?” He repeats himself, desperate for a little bit more of your feelings. At least let me down properly, he thinks to himself. “And what happens if I don’t want to put my focus on someone else? What happens if I just want to keep focusing on you? What happens if I just want you in my life and no one else?”
Now, Sunwoo’s hands grip a hold on your upper forearm and pull you away from his body. The moonlight finally reaches your face and Sunwoo observes you thinking, his eyes boring into yours, silently pleading for some sort of indication that would end the pink and red swirls in his eyes whenever he catches even a glimpse of your figure.
“Then I would tell you that I like you and that I have for the longest time.”
Are drunken thoughts still sober thoughts in this situation?
Sunwoo’s head dips dangerously close and it takes everything in him to not press his lips onto yours. If you even allowed any words that imply that he may have taken your heart, he told himself he would look away even if it meant burying himself into the ground and never seeing civilisation ever again. The struggle is written all over his face: the tight wrinkles around his eyes that accommodate the crashing of his eyebrows, the protective hold he has on you and the way he presses his forehead onto yours with his hair tickling you, quiet exhales leaving his lips.
“Please don’t do this to me,” he pleads, “You’re drunk and I’m trying to not cross the line.”
“Cross it…” Mellow and enchanting. “I give you my consent.”
“Don’t.” He grits and tries to still his heart. “I can't…”
“Kiss me, Woo.”
Sunwoo swore that his heart almost leapt out of his chest when his eyes shot open, immediately growing bigger with how you nudged the tip of your nose to his. His temperature receptors feel the shift of the warmer air growing closer to his lips and he can’t help but focus on the way your eyelids flutter close.
The attraction is fatal and so is the small distance left. Unconsciously, even though it’s wrong, he couldn’t help but adjust his position, wanting to claim you as his even if it’s just for a while. Just when your lips are mere millimetres away from touching, Sunwoo denies the touch of heaven, the angel inside gets his hands to fly and block the intimate act with his fingers. A hand cups your cheek, tracing along your jawline and a thumb slots in between your plump lips from reaching his. His breath hitches when you peek at the smooth surface, void of the curves that you were expecting. He watches the stars fade from your eyes, replacing them with a wall that he couldn’t decipher.
Through his eyelashes that flutter quietly and the painful gulp, he prompts you once again, “Let’s go home.” More resolute and grounded than before. “We can talk about this tomorrow.”
The thumb did leave the presence on your cupid’s bow but lingers at your lip’s bottom edge. Sunwoo watches as your lips bounce back after he lightly pulls it down and he sees the dullness from your eyes with every single second that passes. He shoves his sleeves past his fingertips, wrapping the grey around his pointer and starts to collect your confusion on his sleeves.
“I-I’m sorry.”
He could tell it was genuine and he assumed that you might’ve sobered up a little bit within the last couple of seconds. Sunwoo met your forehead once again with his thumb that still held you like you were as fragile as the glass bottle that had been discarded.
“Please don’t leave me.”
“I’m not going to leave you. Don’t even bother to think of those things ever again.” He reassures your muddled-up mind. “I’m going to pick you up, okay?”
Between your hazy vision and the churning of your stomach, the only indication you could give is a nod and outstretched arms towards his now-standing figure. Sunwoo adoringly chuckles, bending down and supporting your weight by scooping you up by your waist. He kept your body close to his even when he turned around and kneeled, patting his back for you to slump over.
Out of energy, your arms lazily dangled during the walk, elbows resting on his shoulders during the whole walk. Truth be told, his back aches because you couldn’t get a proper grip on him but he knows as soon as he straightens his back to a more comfortable position, you might actually hit your head and wake up in the hospital. The walk back to his car is quiet, chattering filling the background noise. If you’re awake, you can feel the shaking of his thighs as he carefully rests you on the cushioned seat, an arm coming over his head onto the back of yours as a safety measure from the upper door frame. Without a single sound from you, he successfully buckles you securely in the front seat. Your coat is gently undressed from you to be used to cover your legs, the short skirt only makes you shiver in the night.
“Why do cars always sound so loud?”
Sunwoo complains when he twists the car key to start the engine. His eyes fall to you again, observing your sleeping figure who is unaware of the little jumps and loops his heart made. His pointer reaches over to the loose strands that tickle the front of your face. From the back of your ear, he holds his breath at your slightly gaped lips that pull him closer, drawing him nearer to share a kiss with you. Why did you have to look so stunning despite the reeking alcohol that only becomes stronger in the small space?
Though faint, his reflection from the front window stares at him and he can’t help but sink further into the seat, wanting to hide and run away from himself. “Will you ever look at me the same way?” he grumbles hopelessly into the palms that shield him from reality before driving towards his house.
The exhaustion from the eventful day finally washes over him as soon as he parks his car in one go. Usually, you would give an impressed look and Sunwoo would wiggle his eyebrows when you only scoff at his achievements. The connecting door to his house opens, throwing his things inside the hallway without much thought before jogging back to your side. His eyes narrow, concentrating on making as minimal noises as he can whilst opening the metal surface that separates you and him. A hand pushes on the door while the other does the contrasting action with the handle to avoid the loud click that vehicles make. Thankfully your head isn’t resting on the door, something that he made sure didn’t happen so that you could rest in his house without the bumps of the road lifting your head and slamming it back down due to ruthless gravity.
And as much as Cupid’s curly blonde hair is between all the sides of his fingers, he mastered the art of patience and ‘trusting the process’ as he took a series of deep inhales.
Throughout the whole time, Cupid is impressed at how blind you both prove to be. It’s obvious now as he pays attention to the way Sunwoo treats you and the way that you desperately clutch on his jacket that you both are more than best friends. He ponders if he should shoot another arrow even though the initial one he shot is showing progress.
In this line of work, where he’s used to shooting, and observing for a while before going to another potential couple, he seems to be stuck with the couple in front of him. Up until now, he has never thought to shoot the second arrow that is reserved for a couple that makes him look away distastefully. He’s never met one that makes him take them out of their trance as it’s obvious it became more bad than good for them but what he’s twirling in his hand is not that.
But he starts to think about his decisions whenever you're hurting because of the world and he starts to think of the shatter in Sunwoo’s heart whenever he's around you.
Is it worth it to have you both come together?
“But you know,” the arrow stops between his pointer and thumb, the crest hitting the perimeter of the stationary cloud. Cupid continues to peer over the two, finding himself squealing with the way Sunwoo continues to make teasing jokes to make sure you don’t fall asleep behind the bathroom door while brushing your teeth and changing into your favourite hoodie of his. “I don’t think shooting one towards these two will do much.”
He smiles knowingly, completely immersed in the way that Sunwoo hops over to cradle your head into his chest as soon as you open the door. Your mind is still under the scorching forty percent but you didn't miss the way Sunwoo’s fingers rub on your exposed thigh when he brings you to his bed bridal style.
And if he shoots another arrow?
Oh, Cupid knows that you’re both more than just teenagers in love. Especially in your case, terrified, and for Sunwoo who just wants to see you happy—another arrow means nothing if you both don’t learn and figure out this obstacle yourselves.
With Sunwoo’s help, you’re snugged underneath his blanket, pulling it up to your nose, just the way you like it. The laundry detergent brings you rest, and your brain immediately relaxes as it associates the scent with safety. Your body rests on its side and you watch Sunwoo as he takes a kneeling position on the side of his bed, taking his hand to yours while his other forearm rests on the bouncy futon. The act makes his heartbeat increase once more. “Sunwoo.” The boy only keeps his affectionate eyes on yours while he strokes your hair. “Thank you for picking me up.”
The brushes of his thumb on the back of your palm could lull you to sleep. “Can I sleep on the living room couch today then?” Mischievously suggesting, knowing how much you would complain about leaving you alone in the room for the whole night.
The question makes you pout awake again, “You’re going to leave me?” Maybe you weren’t up for the joke and Sunwoo smiles sadly, clearing his throat and shaking his head assuringly.
“I’m just joking with you.” An airy laugh seeped out from his lips. “I’ll sleep on the floor.” Pointing at the unoccupied space behind him. “Don’t worry.”
“Or you can sleep next to me…”
Cupid feels the tension in the air after your suggestion. He propels the bed of clouds, flying closer to have a better view of you two. He’s so invested in the way Sunwoo softly looks at you that the shake of his head after some thinking makes him scream once more, burying his face into the white puff of air.
“Why not?” You scooted against his bed, making space to prove your point that the bed was big enough for you both. “It’s not like we’ve never done it before…”
“I know.” Sunwoo stands from his kneeling position but you refuse to let go of his hand. Instead, your hands slide up from his wrist to entangle them between his fingers. “Bubs…”
“I’m scared.” That’s all it took for Sunwoo’s knees to hit the floor again, coming closer to you. “What if I do manage to fall in love but then I just get hurt?”
“Then he’ll deal with me.” It elicits a whimper from you and your vision suddenly blurs once more. The tears brim up more when Sunwoo’s hand cups to rest against the apple of your cheeks with his knuckles, brushing in a circular motion. “Love them, it’s okay.”
The pressure you’re exerting on his fingers makes him furrow his eyebrows. “You’re okay with that?”
“If he makes you happy then I’m okay with that, yes. If he is the one that will make you believe in love again, then yes.” And his shoulders shrug, not as a way to say that he doesn’t care about your feelings because he does—everyone how much he cares for you. “I just want you to be happy.”
“Then make me happy.”
There it is again.
The implication that makes his eyes dart his focus from your heavy eyelids to the small gap between your lips. It travels down to your joined hands that lay next to your plump lips. He loves it. The sight of your hands, intertwining beautifully between his and the way that you’re holding him close to you as if his presence is a gift—if only he knew how much you treasure him.
“Get some sleep okay?” Ignoring it once more by throwing his eyes to his lap.
By some miracle, Sunwoo manages to break free from your hands but not before he wipes away the leftover final drops from your doe eyes. He didn’t completely leave your side just yet though. Sunwoo just sinks his right forearm on the edge of his bed, his left on top before resting his chin later on. His eyes blinked and he held the momentary darkness for a few seconds longer before opening them again. You understand, nodding defeatedly. With Sunwoo looking over you, admiring you even though he’s much more exhausted after running around your house with an energetic child, you were able to finally slumber off to sleep. He only thought about standing when heard your drowsy breathing becoming soft snores. Even then, his hand snakes behind your nape and under all your strands, pulling your luscious locks up to hang over his pillow and leaving the cold air to cool your exposed skin.
“I love you.”
And that’s when Cupid made up his mind.
The first thing that greets you when the flock of birds chirps too loudly for your liking is the gutting feeling of wanting to run down to the toilet bowl and empty the contents of your stomach. The second thing that hits you is the desert down your throat, your hand blindly rummaging on the bedside table to find the familiar shape of your water bottle. The third thing that hits you is the remnants of a tight non-existent band that wraps around your head.
It’s all a good potion to remind yourself never to drink so much liquor in such a short period.
But the fourth thing that hits you as you rise to a sitting position, thumb and pointer running up horizontally across your eyebrows, is the familiar room that isn’t yours. It takes you a while to notice but you recognise the one familiar arcade teddy bear on the very unorganised study table on the opposite of the room. The picture framed your scowl while the owner of the room held his phone up, tongue sticking out to the camera with the little peace sign above your head.
“Shit…how the heck did I get here?” Your bed hair becomes a bird's nest in a matter of seconds. “Wait so last night I went to the convenience store,” tracing your steps carefully, “drank at the beach…” but a blank after that, “Sunwoo must've picked me up.” The dread hits at the name you just spoke, “I’m not ready to face him!”
The blanket is ripped out from your lower body, and the drop in temperature sends goosebumps all over your body. Quite simply, you're embodying the term of waking up on the wrong side of the bed without its metaphorical meaning.
There was no point in peeking through the slit between the door and the frame of Sunwoo’s bedroom because you knew directly on the other side is a wall with framed pictures of the family who resides there. You ready yourself with an inhale through your nose, preparing a bunch of words despite the still evident headache before exhaling through your mouth.
The smell of batter and vanilla becomes more evident as soon as your hand creaks the door open. It excites you knowing that your favourite breakfast isn't too far away from reach. The smile that you gave though, reminds you of the pressing matters when it strikes pain through the veins on the side of your head.
Your exclamation to the feeling is what rips Sunwoo out of his daydream, turning around to see you tiptoeing not too far behind him like a thief.
“You're awake.”
Beside him, a tower of the perfectly circular cooked batter is stacked in five, maple syrup around the rim of the treat as it drops down naturally onto the rest of its friends below. You could tell that he probably timed each side with how uniform the colours of each side were. Sunwoo hasn't picked up the panic behind your eyes, setting the plate on the island between you both.
“Take this first.” He pops the white pill from its aluminium seal and reaches for the full glass of water he prepared earlier from the fridge.
Sunwoo didn't know that his proud smile would fall as quickly as you almost did when you stepped back. His feet rooted themselves to the slippery wood underneath, his eyes widening even though you managed to grab hold of the backrest of the couch next to you.
“Are you alri—”
“I should take my leave now.” You rushed to say, “My mum must be wondering where I am.”
“I told her last night, don't worry.”
Right. Just like all the times he has done whenever you fell asleep on his shoulder while watching anime with him.
“Eat something first and I'll drop you home.” His head tilted to the alluring warm cakes on the table.
The perfect cylinder on his hand would have slipped from his sweaty palms with how you shake your head in the slightest. Now he's picking up something. Do you remember the events from last night? No, you've always been a forgetful one and he would help you remember by setting up cues and would always have his camera facing you to record the horror creeping up your face.
Whatever it is, he felt the need to take the lead first, especially with how you're avoiding even looking his way and sitting down on the board of the furniture from before, your hands gripping the polyester beside your body. He's not too far away from you, maybe a metre apart but he's feeling anxious with the air himself, turning away from you momentarily.
You hear the exhausted exhale from your best friend and that made you scared to even look his way. The rim of the glass hits the marbled top. “I'm not going to do anything to you, you know?”
“Of course I know…” Keeping your emotions at bay.
“Then?”
Cupid raised both his eyebrows, hoping that you would be able to find the courage to rightfully confront Sunwoo for the feelings in your heart. His hands clamp together, lacing together as he rests his forehead on the knuckle of his thumb, silently encouraging the growth of the couple in front of him.
“I know that it’s my fault too that I didn’t speak up about the date with Jaemin. I should’ve been more honest to him first and foremost because he’s done nothing but nice to me and yes! The date was really nice and he was a gentleman like you said Sunwoo but,” the implications of the last word wipes the proud smile that he had, lips pursed to a thin line, “I wish that you didn’t put me on the spot especially when you know that I’m scared of being around men.”
There was no audible answer that he could truly give you. What you said is true and he hates that he projected to hide his feelings for you in the worst possible way. He left you alone at night, in the hands of someone that he can’t fully tell your mother honestly that he knows. The shake of his head is slow but harsh and with a glance, you could hear the cogs turning inside the distraught boy’s head.
“I’m sorry.” Wavering in fear.
“Please don’t be.” He responds. “I’m sorry.”
Despite shutting his eyes, Sunwoo feels the looming shadow that falls over his slumped figure against the tabletop. His hands join together, a loud clap making you jump a little bit at the force of his thoughts. You watch as his hands drain the blood flow, slowly making his fist white. And though your chest hurts from the anxiety running through your veins, you decided that it was best for you to clear the awkward air.
What you did is beyond anyone’s imagination but it felt right as compared to last night—as compared to all those times two years ago. Your fingers cradle the underside of Sunwoo’s jawline, separating his chin from his chest and angle his shocked face to yours. Sunwoo would’ve genuinely run away usually, maybe even letting out one of those screeches that would leave you scolding him for the pounding of your eardrums, but something else is pounding in both of your chests and it’s syncing with each other for the first time.
You move little by little, your toes slowly moving in so that you can stand between his slightly open legs until the sides of your knees are between his. Slowly, the anterior side of his forearms starts to lift from the surface behind him, testing the waters to hold you in his arms by ghosting his already encircled arm around your middle. When you nod, Sunwoo finds himself tightening the hold immediately, pulling you into the crook of his neck while your fingers thread on the loose white of his fabric. His fingers widen their reach, wanting to feel your figure on a wider surface area.
“I’m in love with you.”
It’s such a simple line.
It wasn’t extravagant nor was it unique or poetic, yet you find yourself wanting to record it so that you could play it back whenever and wherever.
“I know you’re scared.” He affirms to your growing whimpers. “But I want to continue to love you if you’ll let me.”
Now it’s official. There was no buildup to the streams down your cheeks but you still let yourself indulge in the pent-up frustration over your lack of trust for the boy who is holding you like you’re the most precious thing in the whole world.
“If our friendship is going to end and you'll never look my way ever again, then at least please let me hold you a little bit longer.”
You wish you could at least have enough strength to throw some punches on his chest but you’re breathless in both the way your throat begs for air and in the way Sunwoo nudges the tip of his nose to a sensitive part of your neck. The same area grows colder without any effort and it takes you less than a second to realise that Sunwoo is crying himself.
“Why are you crying?” You ask as best as you can through your tears.
“Because you’re crying.” He simply answers. “It hurts me that you’ve gone through so much.” Sunwoo’s lips shudder, taking in small breaths himself. “But I’m really proud of you.”
“You say that all the time.”
Sunwoo chuckles, acknowledging the times he did say it. “And I’ll never get tired of saying it.”
Cupid relaxes his shoulders when you both slightly pull away, tender eyes looking upon each other with a wide grin appearing on you both but he could tell you both are trying your best to not look away, wanting to live in the love that the other shared in the moment. He was about to flap his wings, thinking that it was enough eavesdropping for today but you quickly pressed a light pucker to Sunwoo’s left cheek. Then to his right. Then to his philtrum. He couldn’t help but cover his eyes at your daring act but what made him push back further to the corner of the room to give you space were your words.
“Cross the line, Sunwoo.”
Sunwoo grips your waist, groaning against your lips and he’s momentarily still until you swipe the crease forming on his forehead and whisper a variation of assuring words. That’s all it takes for Sunwoo to finally close the gap between you both. It’s no longer a metre, sixty or thirty centimetres, not with the way his hands roam all over your body, needing more confirmation that you’re the one kissing him. His hands slide from your waist, gently to cup both of your bottoms, pushing you up closer to him. It elicits a soft gasp from you but Sunwoo pulls on your bottom lip to connect you back to him. Your dazed eyes met his dark ones and he took this time to swipe his wet muscle across the teeth mark to soothe the pain.
Feverish for affection, your zooms towards his lips once more, locking the plumper ones between yours before pulling away with a soft hum and engulfing the other one to give it the same amount of love. Sunwoo’s heart melts at the way you lightly tug on his scalp, the other hand sliding down along his nape and resting your palm on his collarbone. What makes him crazy is the vertical swipes that you give on his defined collarbones. He parts the kiss, pushing himself off the edge of the table and lifts you there, trapping your body with his palm on either side of your body.
“Bubs.”
“You okay?”
“More than okay.” Sunwoo chuckles, devouring your lips once more. “Can I kiss you somewhere else?” As soon as the confirmation is given, a warm hand wraps on the back of your neck and Sunwoo starts to alternate the pressure from his open mouth on the side of your neck, starting to mark you his.
The black strands of his hair swallow every part of your gripping hold on him but he smirks against your skin with the little pretty sounds dripping from your lips.
“S-Sunwoo.” Realising now that he’s painting you on a visible area. “My mum and brother are going to see.”
It’s not that you’re embarrassed by him—never him—you’re just shy at the new colour that he places on you, completely unfazed by what others think.
Possessive Kim Sunwoo—you could live with that.
“Can I pull the hoodie down a bit then?” Sunwoo pants against your skin, rough and slightly out of breath. “Only if you want it.” And he made sure you’re comfortable with whatever it’s going to be with how he wipes the forming sweat on your upper spine.
You spent what it feels like a minute holding his gaze to you. “I trust you.”
And he’s back to creating a masterpiece on your skin. Three of his fingers hook on the neckline and expose the body part that he wants to place his hungry lips on next. He watches the way your collarbones become more visible when you deeply inhale and he waits for your next breath patiently. When it does come, you slightly throw your head back at the pleasure of his soft nimbles. Sunwoo didn’t even want to spend a second away from you, his hand pushing on your lower back to press him up against you more. Your mewls are what motivate him more, pushing him just a bit more to finish the work in progress that he has in his head, pivoting his lower lip to a different angle and pressing the final press on you.
You release a breath you didn’t even know you held and Sunwoo frowns at the way you limp your upper body onto him, arms around his shoulder for support.
“S-Sorry, I didn’t mean to do it that hard.”
Your hair ruffles against his when you shake your head. “Don’t be, I enjoyed it.”
Again, the room is filled with light chuckles once more, your dangling legs kicking the air at the shared moment together. Slowly but surely, the sweat evaporates from your face but your blush is still very evident. But before you become too shy and run away once again, you respond to his words that made you both cry in each other’s safety.
“I love you too, Kim Sunwoo.” Sunwoo’s hand that has been running up and down your back stops, wondering if he heard the right words. You turn to the vein on his neck, kissing along the line until the shell of his ear. “Thank you for not giving up on me.”
Sunwoo’s heart combusted at that and he only buries his heating face into your shoulder, making you giggle even more. His whole body is on cloud nine and he’s truly the luckiest person in the world to receive such words from you.
“I want to look at you.” He says before pulling away once more, hands planted next to your thighs once more.
Sunwoo’s slender fingers tucked your strands behind your ears, squishing your cheeks in between and said a relay of sweet nothings. Even though his eye smile is mostly on you, occasional glances were being stolen somewhere else. Knowingly, your finger pulls the cloth down and you watch the shift of mischievousness start to leave.
“Is it pretty?”
The adjective is an understatement. Of course, he wanted to say ‘yes’ because it’s his art that he’s proud of. He's the one who put the distinct heart shape there, his teeth mark slowly fading on the tip of the heart where he pivoted before and the remnants of him still slightly shine on your skin thanks to the overhanging light.
“You’re prettier.” Quickly stealing a peck from your lips to silence your shy complaints. “Be mine?”
“Valentine’s Day passed, Woo.”
“Be mine for life then.”
Oh, Kim Sunwoo really does have a way with his words.
“Plus, I’m glad that we didn’t become official yesterday.” Shrugging when you tilt your head, still with that cute smile of yours. “Now we don’t have to spend our Anniversary and Valentine’s Day on the same day. More mandatory days to spend with you.”
A light shove on his chest is what you respond with but your other hand already had a grip on the lower hem of his shirt. Sunwoo almost stumbled when you pulled him back, enveloping your lips with his.
“Thank you for never giving up on me,” Hands cradling your jaw, yours doing the same and you make sure your feelings are known, “I love you so much.”
“I love you more.”
Guess Cupid changed his arrow’s trajectory much to Sunwoo’s content.
Or maybe, it’s not really his doing after all.
Truth is, Cupid never shot an arrow in Kim Sunwoo’s way.
In reality, Cupid actually shot his chance to Na Jaemin and him only—but even he has made a wrong guess. The trust and hope that you and Sunwoo share are unmatched compared to the lovesick eyes that he has matched people with.
“A love that’s greater than my powers…” Though defeated and his self-confidence took a bit of a downfall, how truly upset can he be when he sees you and Sunwoo just embracing each other, body to body, close and loving each other just the way you both are?
He’s glad of his decision to shoot that second arrow to the other boy after you both fell asleep last night.
“Now that’s a mistake that I can live with.”
navi/masterlist!! 🤍 'especially to you...'
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oh darling, take my heart! ( heart attack ), k.sw & jc.b
a retelling of yves & chuu, heart attack, loona ( chuu )
“ 𝐝𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐝 “
To save Sunwoo from his own self destruction by his undying love for Y/n as he admires her but cannot get her attention. His guardian angel comes to his side in human form to prevent the inevitable fall from Eden. Though the desperation for his preservation might just come from the egoistic wounds of his heart and the awareness of the ugliest fall of them all, it being his own.
PAIRING ⏵ ( 3rd pov, she/ her ) kim sunwoo x fem!reader, guardian angel!jacob not a love triangle
GENRE ⏵ fluff, slight angst, one sided pining, unrequited love ( not all the way through ), comedy/ crack ( hopefully ), sunwoo is down so bad, and he’s stubborn as heck, not a love triangle, slight fantasy, jacob is stressed bc of sunwoo, sweetheart!Jacob, winter!au, college!au but they’re just in the library and walk between lectures and have own apartments lol( F EXAMS ), epic bromance, epic eric feature, not as epic changmin feature, europe aesthetic ( this is a candlestick idk how widespread they are )
WARNINGS ⏵ y/n is just a little evil, loonaverse lore ( lol ), romanticised college!au bc I don’t want to write my reality 🫠, surface level world building ( don't ask me about the angel lore ), y/n & sw calls jacob angel & cupid either teasingly/mockingly/literally, y/n refers to sunwoo as loverboy once, sunwoo swears like three times, sunwoo calls people losers, heart attack by chuu is very gay mine is not😭, proofread twice
WORD COUNT ⏵ 18.8 k ( I’m so sorry )
new banner style!( so proud! ). for some reason I was hellbent on getting this out before christmas, but it’s really not that christmassy😭. the heart attack mv tells a story about chuu's undying love for yves. the post below includes spoilers, but but will clarify this story in connection to the mv. it will be linked at the end too! please enjoy!
story ( symbolism & metaphor ) guide
like and reblog are highly encouraged!
THIS WORLD HAS CHANGED ITS COLORS, DRIFTING FURTHER FROM THE SUN IN PRESENT SEASON.
As Eden has turned its axis away from the warmth, the trees stand with a single color. Instead of fruits in shine and leaves that paint the part in between world and heaven, its colors have, from the crowns, spread and blossomed over its people. The fabric of one's jacket and scarf decorates the boulevard down to the open square at the very center of the city.
Though, someone in cobalt blue seems to not follow the fast paced world around him. Jacob walks gently over the frozen mirror layered on top of the summer stone. His new body concealed in a jacket in that cobalt blue. To look out over the two streets and the cars driving in between, he observes how each silhouette before and behind him walks past him without a single glance or wrong step. Jacob looks down again, sees the reflection of daylight on the frost as his right foot takes another step forward.
Last month, Jacob sat in his new bed, in his new room, in a new city. Picked apart the sharp lines on the telephone screen to figure out exactly the right passage to the blue dot. How time has moved forward without him, since he last stepped onto the fixed ground and stood before the mortals as a real figure. Jacob used to stand perfectly visible in a full crowd all the more frequently in the past. The little boy he guarded back then refused to learn how to stand up for two seconds before starting to run. At seven, during the midst of the summer season on an afternoon picnic, Sunwoo had managed to climb a tree he was incapable of coming down. Jacob, who had been observing him like a second baby sitter, granted Sunwoo luck that day and saved him before falling off the bended branch.
Though, as he entered his teens, Jacob realized Sunwoo was rather a problem solver. So, as he watched from above, the secret pathways and hideouts, how he fired off a firework in the high school hallways and ran from the teacher, Jacob learned to not intervene.
Jacob feels the cold water melt on his skin as morning snow starts falling. And between the white feathers falling from above, he sees the entré from where the fabrication spreads outwards to the exterior of his vision. The glass windows stand in height with the opening, making the trees in winter sleep all smaller. The glass doors and buildings in altering heights don't seem to intimidate him as much as last month. Therefore he lets the transparent frame to the other side, open up for him and the flakes on his hair start to melt.
He vividly recalls summers from before as he walks down the corridors in pastel colors. How the daylight pierce through the ceiling height windows and spread itself over the cream walls like paint. As the memory recalls itself, all the way to the present, he finds himself before lecture hall A, a single turn before the library. The door stands open before him, from his spot on the stream line wood, he sees a row of students already inside. As he hears another pair of footsteps behind him, fused with muted conversations from the entrance, Jacob gathers the strap of his backpack and walks in.
In the lecture hall, the board stands to the left and before it spreads a massive sort of staircase to the highest windows. Though, as he has visited this place in what can only be described as dreams, this vision doesn’t seem to bother his conception. Instead, Jacob stands at the end, two meters away from where the first row starts. Faces that have passed him by in dreams and strangers he can’t recall are all scattered throughout the staircase. And as he eyes them down from the lowest point to the highest before the window, he can’t piece the face in his mind with anyone in the room.
Jacob let his hand fall from the backpack strap and walk up the right side. Sunwoo has never been known for his punctual habits, neither in Jacob’s memory from his youth or the recent observation of him as a uni student.
In the perfect middle of the seven rows, Jacob takes a seat close to the stairs down. He lets his backpack fall to the floor as he takes a seat. The silver computer reveals itself from the canvas material and he lays it gently on the surface before him.
Conversations fill the lecture hall and he eyes the rows, down to the end floor. How two girls sit side by side, enthusiastically nodding when the other talks, or the lone boy furthest against the wall in the right corner. Though, the surroundings fall irrelevant as he anticipates each silhouette entering the door. Each person creates an even stronger blur of conversations and the colors and materials paint a motif before him. Each row and the surface before it becomes foiled with texture and at last, when the professor stands before the white board, none of the faces entering was him from his memories.
The empty corridor walls, enchanted in pastel shades and wooden floor. Each step he takes spreads to the furthest corners of where two walls meet, before they resile back towards him. All that while he turns further from the past lecture hall. Instead of right, the direction towards the library, he let the patterns on the floor take him whatever they wanted. Hoping it would lead him to the purpose of his visit. And as he thinks about that, he looks up from the wild patterns. As he stands still in the middle of the corridor, he sees a single silhouette at the end. At the end frame where the opening reveals a horizontal corridor, stands a silhouette reminiscent of his youth. His distinctive features are turned the other way, and Jacob stands on his toes as if to reach them.
With gentle steps, as if to not disturb the rare life, Jacob walks towards him. The wings under his blue blazer attempt to spread in anticipation, but he forces them down under the thick fabric. Has the past finally runned up to him as he has searched the campus for the past month? he wonders.
“Are you Kim Sunwoo?” Jacob finally asks when they stand about a meter away from each other. The boy turned his figure towards him and his features in day highlights and winter shadows graze itself before him. His face, though more mature, shows traces of the ones from his memories. How the certain parts of his eyes and full lips seem to be unaffected by time.
“What I-” He before him stops himself from speaking as a door from the other corridor opens.
Jacob watches how his eyes instantly grow wider and he moves all closer to the extended frame of the pastel wall. To trace the line up to the door, Jacob observes closely how an ocean wave of students crash through the single opening. And as the wave falls and spreads out from all directions, and five people walking alone, unaffected by another, he hears how the boy before him exhales gently.
By the five last people, two take a left turn, one has a book bag hanging off her shoulder and she carries a computer in her left arm. The sight is rather ordinary, maybe that the winter sunlight hits her a certain way as she passes them by from afar. But as he turns to look at Sunwoo again, he leans his head against the open frame, hands around the edges. His quiet expression melts the winter frost over the windows and a single point in his eyes that are crystal clear. Jacob was uncertain when still observing him from above, but Sunwoo’s painful adoration for the woman walking before them paints messages on the wall with red paint.
She is the one he needs to save him from.
The light hits her in another angle, when she turns her head, Jacob takes his arms closer to his chest as Sunwoo forces himself up from the wall and takes his hand up to his hair. The black lock tangles itself between his fingers as he pushes them back and a pen from his front pocket falls to the floor when his other hand comes down to correct the shirt.
Jacob, quite amused, looking at the scene before him, recognizes how despite the loud noise from the pen, she at the opposite side doesn’t confirm his presence. Sunwoo’s eyes, covered in yearning, follows her serene figure until it disappears from his sight. Exchanges of words from the student mass further to the right echoes throughout the walls. And Sunwoo breathes out again, though, this time it’s heavy and low, leaving his lips in ache before falling to the floor.
Jacob stands unchanged as Sunwoo starts to adjust the band of his bag. Suddenly he has become invincible in the pastel hallway. As he thinks of it, Jacob awkwardly takes his own backpack strap and falls back and forth on his heels.
Finally, he coughs.
Sunwoo looks up from his book bag. His features dull, tired eyes and his lips barely open to answer him. A rather familiar picture of him as he thinks of the past month’s visions while at home, to place his face in between all the hallways.
“Are you Kim Sunwoo?” Jacob asks again.
“Yeah…” He eyes him suspiciously, “Am I supposed to know you or something?”
“No.” Jacob smiles.
It falls silent again.
The plan from the past months runs Jacob’s mind and disappears from sight. So as he stands and watches the boy before him, he starts counting his fingers from below, as if that will help him.
“Okay.” Sunwoo puts his hands in his pocket.
“Oh right!” Jacob finally says, “Sorry, it’s been some time. I…”
Sunwoo tilts his head.
“No, I-forget that.” Jacob motions with his hand, “We’re in the same course, I’m a bit after, I would need some help for the assignment…” He motions even more, “someone said you’re good.”
“Who’s someone?” He asks with slightly squinted eyes.
Jacob smiles, “Eric, I was with him last month.”
“You shouldn’t trust Eric.” Sunwoo shakes his head and Jacob furrows his eyebrows, “He nearly burned down the lab last year.”
That, I missed, Jacob thinks as he pursues his lips in. But if the heart has stayed the same all these years, a constant absolute when everything passes, a simple sentence should secure him.
“Then, are you saying you aren’t smart?” Jacob eyes him.
Sunwoo straightens his posture, scoffs and smiles at him on the opposite side, “No, I’m so smart.” He boasts.
“Okay, then are you helping me?”
“I usually don’t give out charity, but sure,” Sunwoo nods and reaches out his hand. Jacob sees the distance close as he takes his own hand out and bridges them together. They shake it slightly.
“Thanks then, Sunwoo!” Jacob puts his hands in his pockets too, “Do three today at the library work?”
“Sure.” He nods.
How the days move fast, Jacob realizes as he stands by one of the five windows out to the white covered landscape. On one hand, the few daylight hours must change one's perspective on the passing time, but there is something very human, he has understood about the constant disapproval of how time moves in contrast to space.
His legs and lower back rests against a heater with missing spots where white paint should be. The rough edges of its pattern delve a shallow cut at the right side of his spine. Though, the discomfort doesn’t force him to move, as the chilling hour in the lecture hall has frozen every part of his body.
As Jacob stands there, melts the ice and watches how the snow falls towards Eden, he thinks about Sunwoo, again. It has been some time he feels, since the boy has been occupying his mind this frequently. Despite only meeting twice or so per day, he has started to ask Sunwoo if he needs rest or is tired. At those times, he rather looks confusingly at Jacob and answers sarcastically, “I’m always tired” or “Rest never works”. Somehow Jacob wants to tell him he should sleep since he’s been running all day, but he realizes on the way out of the entrance that it is only in his mind he has been running. It is something else outside their shared daily routine.
On the other hand, the name of the girl from that day has been given. Y/n, a student Sunwoo has had classes with, works at a cafe in the mall. The cafe has changed names about four times. Scored lovely on exams the past year, but as if a wind came with a new heart, her eyes seem to, and quoting Sunwoo, “longing for somewhere else”. A wanderer rather, he thinks, to be seen in spaces without clear intention without a single word said. The red veil connecting the two seems rather obscured at the moment.
As he thinks about the mysterious girl, his other half and the mission, he sees people coming from the right. At the end of a group, standing Sunwoo, he waves to the three people beside him before walking forward, leaving them behind. The library stands right before Jacob, at the other side of the wall. And as he takes a single step away from the warmth of the electric heater to reach him, Sunwoo smiles.
“Oh, hello, Jacob.” He continues to walk. Sunwoo’s figure passes him by while the Angel’s have a fixed position in the center of two lines. Jacob’s eyes follow his silhouette down the hall towards the frame.
“Where are you going?” The textbooks nearly slips out of his arms as Jacob hurriedly shifts directions and accidentally stops two students on their way out. His other half doesn’t seem to catch him the first time as the double doors out to the snow covered scenery opens and barely closes before Jacob’s shoes make a pattern in it.
“Where are you going?” He thinks it is probably the loudest he has ever talked and stresses each syllable.
“The cafeteria” He says without any sort of worries.
“But aren’t we supposed to study?” Jacob runs desperately after him.
“We were?” The boy stops suddenly and Jacob flies head first against Sunwoo’s back head. The Angel caresses his forehead and Sunwoo turns around to watch him fully. The fact that he got a full skull into his own doesn’t seem to bother him as he quietly waits for the pain to ease off Jacob.
“Yeah, I asked you yesterday and you said yes.” Jacob holds his cold palm against his forehead. Sunwoo’s eyes adverts from Jacob’s, up to the clear sky. It shines on his features brightly when he tilts his chin.
“Can’t remember, either way I need to see Y/n.”
The shoe patterns in the snow continue from where it ended. Jacob sighs as he pulls the backpack further up his shoulder, so that it brushes against his neck. As if half running to connect and grip onto Sunwoo’s college shirt, Jacob comes up to Sunwoo, steps become slower and falls into a sort of comfortable rhythm. The Angel looks down the stone pathway in clear ice, beside it molten snow. Their steps follow in rhythm.
“Isn’t it very…”
Sunwoo looks to his left, where Jacob follows his steps down the ice. Eyes set on the road before them and his posture starts to fall into a sort of shrimp-like fashion. The sentence in his mouth never finishes as Jacob starts to fall behind.
“Very?” Sunwoo quotes and slows down just a little.
“You know…” Jacob looks up again, sees his other half about a meter before him. Wide eyes and nods his head. The Angel starts shifting his hands around to express the thoughts running in his mind, but it doesn’t seem to do much for him, as Sunwoo tilts his head. The next step down the pathway, his sneaker loses grip on the ground and slides freely. Jacob lets out a surprised sound as fear paints his previously frustrated expression. Jacob grabs onto Sunwoo’s forearm, nearly forgets that his wings might have just ripped through the fabric layers.
“Looking like Bambi.” Sunwoo says and takes Jacob’s upper arm.
“What’s Bambi?” Jacob’s filters and deliberate calculations seem to have flown out the window the moment his face came close to the ground. When the very center of his vision finally leaves the ice covered path, he lifts his chin up to see Sunwoo eye him with a frown.
“That little deer that can’t walk or something.” Sunwoo says.
Jacob’s quiet for a moment. A bicycle comes beside them, catches their jackets in the artificial wind and takes Sunwoo’s fringe with it, leaving a part of his forehead for the world to see.
“You say I’m a deer?”
“I’m going to eat.” He deadpans and turns to face the street once again.
“Wait!”
-
The reflection in the glass door looks back at them. Disappears as Sunwoo pushes the door open to reveal the lines of tables. Jacob stands still for a single second, watches the overbearing ceiling weight down on the red tables and the floor shining from the lamps. To stand in the very line between outside and the room, he feels a wind pass by the chairs and he realizes it looks rather depressing. Though Sunwoo's footsteps continue through the tables, sneakers scrape against the odd floor which turns the older woman behind the glass to his place.
Jacob himself takes uncertain steps around the cafeteria. Follow the odd patterns and watch each ugly lamp light up another red table. He lets his eyes follow the trails of seats further from the main windows and sees students scattered about two tables away from each other before the windows out to a snow covered grass field.
At the center of one of the windows, just enough to the left that there are still about three places left to sit at the back, sits a girl. The light from outside filters through the window familiarly and hits her features in the exact manner as from before. Jacob thinks Y/n must have a favorite sort of place to sit. In the passing hours between lectures he sees her in the same lightning and in the same position each time.
As he has wondered for another passage of around the clock. Jacob, unaware of the presence he has been having around him coming back. A light push on his shoulder, just above the wings takes Jacob back to the present. To cover the spot over the blazer where he just touched, Jacob, with wide eyes, watches Sunwoo with a single tray in his hand. The Angel stares at length even when Sunwoo walks two tables away and takes a seat. His shoulder brushes up against the counter, and his eyes immediately falter. Lies heavily on Y/n as Sunwoo’s arms support his chin.
The tense posture and fixed position of Jacob’s hands loosens. Gently takes himself closer to the table and sits at the opposite side of Sunwoo. The chair is hard plastic, causing a slight discomfort in his skin, as so, Jacob doesn’t bring his back to the rest.
“You want some?”
The Angel looks up from his lap. Sunwoo holds out a plastic cup filled with chocolate filling. The inside has a sharp surface and a clean line between transparency and chocolate. A depressing pudding for the depressing interior. And apparently the expression on his face as he thought of it, didn’t pass by Sunwoo,
“I’m broke". It’s the only thing in this place that doesn’t cost me four thousand and a kidney.” “Plus, it’s actually good.” Sunwoo opens his eyes wide at the last sentence, nods his head as if to make Jacob agree by mimicking.
Jacob moves his head, “Thank you, but I don’t like chocolate.”
Sunwoo drops his hand with the pudding to the table surface, “Liar, everyone likes chocolate.”
The Angel shakes his head gently, “Not me.”
The one facing the window sighs, forces his hand back to his side of the table and instead, takes up the other container on the tray, “You’re weird, here’s your vanilla.” Sunwoo pushes the plastic cup over the distance and it slows down perfectly in front of Jacob. He looks at the cream white color before him and then up at Sunwoo who has opened his pudding.
“Did you not want it?” Jacob tilts his head.
Sunwoo shakes his head with the plastic spoon in his mouth, “Chocolate’s better. I thought that was a pre chosen feature before birth.” He takes the spoon and picks up another bite, “But apparently not.” Sunwoo smiles.
Even when the conversation finds its final period in the end of a last sentence, Jacob finds himself staring and holding the thin cup between his fingers. And sometimes, when he tears his eyes off the plastic to look at Sunwoo, he sees the one on the opposite side gaze in deep adoration onto a point he can’t see from this side. Though, between the limited hours they’ve spent during this time, he figures it is not much in this scene of life that has his eyes so enchanted.
Finally Jacob takes off the lid and takes the thin white spoon off the tray to tear the perfect surface of the pudding. As he takes his first bite, he tastes the sweet flavor from the vanilla melt in his mouth. Jacob, on his limited days on land, has never built any deeper interest for pudding he acknowledges. But every time he looks towards Sunwoo who takes a bite off his chocolate one, he gets a sudden desire to eat pudding tomorrow too. A sort of feeling he can’t quite figure out where it comes from or places in his heart.
Jacob fascinatingly observes how, for each round sound of the clock, Sunwoo falls deeper into his palm. As if spellbound by the person, he looks as if to be in complete dissociation from the real world. Jacob wonders what he sees before his eyes as he watches Y/n, feels in his heart and senses between his veins.
“Sunwoo?” Jacob says suddenly. It breaks the silence between them and the cafeteria for that part too. The one in deep infatuation looks away for a single second, though, still chin in palm, a position ready to turn back to at any time.
“Why do you like Y/n?” Jacob tilts his head.
Sunwoo frowns for a moment and then lifts his shoulder, “I don’t know, why wouldn’t I?”
“You tell me.” Jacob leans in closer.
Sunwoo scoffs, “She’s pretty. She’s smart, I don’t know…” His eyes shimmer from the daytime and his other hand comes up to his face. The end sleeves of his hoodie folds from the position and it covers some of his features. The words from his lips become muted in between all the fabric, “...She’s like from another world.” He sighs, “She’s beautiful like a dream and intriguing.”
“Intriguing?” Jacob tilts his head again.
“She talks really fast with a really flat tone. Then her body language, it’s as if she has none. That’s her body language.”
Jacob nods.
“Why do you wonder?” Sunwoo asks suddenly.
Jacob’s quiet for a second, looks behind his shoulder towards Y/n before turning back to the table, “I don’t know, she seems a bit disinterested just.” He speaks gently.
Sunwoo nods his head without making eye contact.
“I think many would have gone for someone else.” He speaks slower than in previous conversations. Watch each motion of Sunwoo’s fingers and where his pupils are directed. Touch the surface just slightly and see how the waves starts to form.
“I guess.” Sunwoo scratches his nails and looks towards the ceiling.
“I-”
“I have to meet up at five.” Sunwoo sits up, smiles with pressed lips towards Jacob and nods his head once again, “See you tomorrow, I guess.” He pushes his chair under the table and takes a first step out the odd patterned floor.
“Wait, I should pay you back for the food.” Jacob stresses and starts searching in between his pockets. But the Angel stops once Sunwoo laughs just lightly and puts his hands in his pockets.
“Don’t worry about it, it was like three thousand.” He turns his head fully and Jacob is left seeing his silhouette become all smaller and disappear out the glass door.
Despite the definite numbers of daylight there is in a December afternoon, Jacob finds himself at the avenue down the meters between university and his home. The lights hang above his head in lines until the very end of the buildings. And as Jacob lifts his chin even further up, his nose touches the cold air and in every window shines a candlestick. The thousands of lights enchanting the avenue shines in golden yellow. A warm vision as Jacob pulls the scarf a bit tighter around his neck.
As he watches a couple come out of the glass door before the mall, Jacob thinks back on his conversation with Sunwoo. The Angel turns on every angle possible of the words he spoke to him. To imagine the different dimensions where the timidly spoken sentence could have affected him. Sunwoo was very quick that time, to stand up and leave the conversation. Jacob gets a discomfort in his spine as the scene plays over, but then it continues playing, showing the open motions and tone before he turns. Jacob shakes his head again, to make the screen fade from his mind and look at the white floor.
It’s confusing, he thinks. Humans are confusing.
“Hello.”
Jacob takes the wrong step with his right feet. Shoe, trapped under an elevated part of the pathway and his hands comes out of his pockets as his weight leans forward. Before Jacob’s face comes even closer to the ground, his other leg lands to support the parts of his body that come to lean over. With a few foolish motions as to regain his balance and another second to get his posture upright instead of horizontal, Jacob looks behind him to see the voice that continues to linger in his ears.
How the Angel’s wings tenses underneath all the fabrics and the features on his face become rigid and pale. The substantial shift in his current state, from outside it may look like a sudden winter storm passed him by. To steal every little warmth left between the layers. But truly, there is only one reason. As Y/n stands before him, a certain distance but in eye contact for the first time.
“What’s your name?” She abruptly asks when he has stared for too long.
Jacob grabs his backpack, “What-Why?”
“I’ve seen you a lot lately.” She’s quick.
“I’ve seen you a lot too.” Jacob starts to take steps away from her, but as he turns back, her silhouette follows him.
Shoes in deep snow during winter evenings come from behind and wrap around his ears. 90s Chirstams melodies play weakly from the stores and he finally breaks silence, “Do you need help or something?”
“I do.”
“Okay, but I’m not good at math, just so you know.”
“Don’t worry, it’s not math.” Y/n smiles lightly, though it sends shivers much deeper than any weather has ever done. Jacob swallows and looks before him. The avenue splits into two and he sets his eyes on the pathway into the badly lit park.
“I’m Y/n.” She stops walking suddenly but continues to look at him, “Will you help me if I ask you?”
“Jacob.” He answers weakly and shifts his sight between two opposite points. Y/n opens her mouth to speak, but Jacob rushes, making no space for more than one sentence.
“I’m late for the bus.” And crosses the red light as another car passes. Head to look in the two different directions and the blinding lights coming all closer. Though, he does make it to the other side. Where lamps stand in row between the tall trees and the Christmas lights from the avenue can’t reach. Jacob looks behind him for a last time, to see a painted figure against the avenue, but at the entrance of the park, there is no one. As so, the wings on his back falls to his skin once again.
How the evening from before haunts him as he passes each corner and wall. There seems to be no logical reasoning, he thinks, as to why a girl he has never met or established any similarities to in the real world, to seek his company. Jacob stands, once again before the library in endless waiting for Sunwoo, but as all other days, he is nowhere to be seen. The Angel sighs, looks to the window and uncomfortably shifts his back. There has been a sort of constant ruler watching his every move, the one hidden among humans thinks.
“Hello.”
Jacob moves one step further down the pastel wall as another presence stands beside him. With his hands close to his chest, Jacob looks to see the person before him. With wide eyes and feet tightly set against each other, he forces himself to become smaller when she who he has wandered over stands in complete view. Her face is familiar by now, but the incredibly monotone voice that echoes throughout the halls felt as if picking on the past memories of her.
“Hello?” Jacob stutters as silence passes them by. Her eyes, like the echo of her first words, lingers like the snow outside and with difficulty, won’t go away. The blazer around his upper body sits as it always does, but somehow he feels like it has torn by its sides and reveals his secret fully before her. As her eyes follow his silhouette, his hands cramp together even tighter.
“Has someone ever told you you sound like an angel, Jacob?” Her voice, not as severe as before, reaches him through the awkward distance. The expression on her face is rather vague, not so drastic lines of emotions, instead nearly detached from the scene they find themselves in. Aside from her faintly north crescent lips and her eyes with the finest of pearl at the pupil. Sharp crystals like the ice hanging from outside the building.
“No-Why?” Jacob coughs slightly and throws back the question.
She changes the weight on her legs, “I don’t know, isn’t there a rumor that there’s angels walking among us.”
“Well,” he takes the collar of his blazer and adjusts it, “It’s just a saying .”
“You think so?”
It becomes quiet once again, aside from the friend group that cross the wooden floor and follow the lines down the second corridor. As their conversation fades from these walls and lives on their own, Y/n takes a step closer towards him. In the everlasting coldness enchanting all corners of the building, he suddenly feels her warm shoulder closing in against his own.
“You don’t believe in angels?”
“No.” He answers hesitantly, only letting his eyes wander to the left for a single second before moving back to the window on the other side. He sees the eyes of students observing them as they stand in the center of two ways.
“Just fate.” He pats his blazer again. Y/n eyes him in silence to observe the invincible dust layered over the fabric, his hands brush it off. Falls down from the fabric to the hem line and adjusts it, despite no failed folds.
“Nice blazer by the way.” She abruptly stops him.
He looks at her without words. Now she’s leaning on the wall with crossed arms, eyes aimed at the two people who briefly cover sunlight on the pastel wall before passing it by. This time the two lock eyes completely, a shiver runs through his body as she observes him with an intensive sort of coat over the lobe. To pass through the very fiber that makes them two similar, she sees his soul wrapped in plastic. Burn it with her eyes until it starts to smoke.
“You’re indiscreet Jacob, I know you’re not from here.”
A single sentence seems to set off the second visor on the analog clock. Jacob breathes heavily and turns his head away from her. The reaction burns a part of her consciousness and the blood between her vessels moves all quicker as she opens her lips again. Another person passes them by precisely, and Jacob takes her wrist as the very opening of her sentence echo through the pastel passage.
“Be quiet, please.” He whispers. Y/n is forced up against him, his eyes shining of heaven as he looks down at her.
“Never.” The shift in dynamic doesn't seem to face her, he thinks.
Jacob sighs loudly and lets go of her wrists. He throws it against her thigh before turning the other direction, each step, a dimension away from Y/n. But as he comes further down the corridor, where the pastel starts to become sun faded and spots of paint have withered away, a constant sound of steps in a rhythm just like his own. Jacob’s eyes follow the lines between the floors. Force each sound of his shoes against it to become all louder as they come to the very end of the corridor, where it splits in half.
Her fingers grip onto the back collar, where the fabric folds into two. She forces it closer towards herself and Jacob feels the neckline move further up his skin and strangle the end of his throat. All at once, she pushes him to the right. Jacob lands with his back against the wall, the very fragment of the thin material seems to shrivel at this motion, and the wall, as it’s completely hollow, echoes throughout the empty hallway.
Jacob lets out a cry as the fabrication and his own body press the wings under the blazer. Y/n comes up closer, with a distance enough for herself, but has her arms up against his head to constrain him to the small square beneath him.
“Hurt your wings, Angel?” She tilts her head.
Jacob’s right arm is wrapped around his upper body, to caress the aching spot on his back. The loose strands of his fringe have fallen before his eyes and the collar of his blazer is unfolded. He feels the dry bits of paint on the wall against his head as he leans away from her complexion, as much as this dimension allows him to.
“You look like a mess.” Y/n tilts her head, “Like a sin.”
“What do you want anyway?” Jacob says frustrated.
“You’re not fallen, Angel. Tell me how to do it.”
“Do what?”
“Fall from this place.” She rolls her eyes, “Leave.”
“You’re insane.” He takes a step to the left, but Y/n mirror it perfectly. So, her hands are beside him from both directions, still, to cage him in.
“Why are you even here? With Sunwoo? Loverboy can’t do uni on his own?”
For the first time, the features on her face shifts. From being forever still without any sort of indication of time or emotion, her eyes are coated with a thin layer of light, lucent from the moon and the corner of her lip twitches between the sentences. The fine pupil of her eye shifts focus on the different shadows of his face, when neither of them gives her any answers, she desperately starts asking him again.
Jacob feels the human heart in his chest hurt severely. It pushes against his skin and the organs right besides it. Between each breath, the words lie on his tongue daring to be heard, but as she stares at him, just a little bit more frenetic than before, they fall back in his throat, tangle in each other and strangle him. The eyes sharp and vivid like yesterday’s nightmare, he closes his eyes and wishes for the sun to rise up. And at the exact moment, the two of them hear footsteps coming all closer to their spot behind the wall.
As suddenly as Y/n appeared beside him before the library, she is now gone, with just a few steps and a temporary current from her disappearing arms. Jacob dares to open his eyes and see nothing but the yellow pale wall. To look behind the paper divider, he sees Y/n’s silhouette become all the smaller as the hallway continues forward and a student, much older, opens the door to the left.
Once again, he falls against the dried off paint. But this time let his arms hang loosely by his sides, lend his head as far up as it goes, to stare at the high ceiling and breathe out loudly.
The days seem to obscure each other. How the distinctive line between day & night blemishes at its edges, and creates a wavering pattern of his life. Jacob sits in the library. Though, this time, he looks out over the high shelves and people’s heads from the second floor. To follow the figures from above as they navigate the shelves of titles and to look out the top part of the windows to see the snow covered cityscape. How this place seems unaffected by time, he thinks as his chin lies in his palm.
The door from below opens again, and his eyes diverge quickly from the window down to the first floor. He sees the hair color at the top of the stranger’s head, it shines in a different shade than the one he seeks for. Therefore, Jacob feels his shoulder fall into a comfortable position once again and his eyes aspire for the white landscape through transparent shine.
After another passing of the clock, a sensation, in heavier violence than the night weather, has taken a place on both of his shoulders. It weighs heavy over his chest, for a single second he forgets how to breathe. Without any intentions, his hands grab the textbook at the center of the table. Slowly, in contrast to the thoughts racing through his head, Jacob takes just a momentarily stop to them, as to figure out what to say. Though, words never come out when the eyes behind him meet his own. Instead, a laugh chimes throughout their part of the library. Sweet and bright, boyish as from a memory from a past life.
Sunwoo stands behind him, letting his hand hit Jacob’s back gently as the ends of his eyes curl to a crescent.
“Is the devil behind me or something?” He continues to laugh before walking to the opposite side of the table. Jacob still won’t answer, his eyes instead follows Sunwoo’s silhouette around the edge of the wood. As he stands up, he suddenly covers the massive window, but the sunlight shines back on him when Sunwoo sits down before him.
“I have something.” The one on the opposite side is quieter than before. Jacob curiously tilts his head as Sunwoo reaches down to the floor. His backpack lies beside the chair, and as his shoulders disappear behind the table, Jacob hears slight sounds of paper scratching against each other.
“Are you eating again?” Jacob asks bewildered.
Sunwoo takes his finger up and pushes it before his lips, “Do you want some or not?”
Jacob’s face falls flat once again. Eyes on Sunwoo’s as his own expression lights up all of a sudden.
“Exactly.” He whispers.
The paper folds a few more times and Jacob looks behind him to see if anyone else sees them. Sunwoo’s hand comes up from the white paper bag, in his palm, gently cupped lies a golden brown pastry, the layers flakey and falls off in his hand. Jacob turns back towards Sunwoo and reaches his hands out for the layered pastry. He brings it up to his face, beneath his nose as to smell it. Sunwoo reaches down again and smiles when Jacob’s eyes are wide and searches for the specific flavor wrapped in golden dough.
“It’s vanilla.” He whispers and Jacob looks at him, “I’ll take the chocolate one.”
His words gently wrap around his heart and sets off a sensation he has never experienced before. It’s warm like the memory of coming inside and closing the door after being outside. And when he looks at Sunwoo who takes an outlandish bite of his own pastry, Jacob feels the urge to take out his wings and gently cover the kid’s shoulder like it's a blanket. To fend off the nightmares of the world, events that make one soul a bit smaller, all of it would not come to him if Jacob stood like in imagination, protecting him fully.
They sit in silence for some time. Let each book page that lifts from one side to the other blow around their ears. Jacob savors the last bit of his pastry and looks out the window again. Snow falls outside and lies like a grainy filter over the city horizon. As he falls deeper in trance of the portal to the outside, and counts each flake falling from above, Sunwoo suddenly taps his finger on the side of the computer.
Jacob looks at the kid with wide eyes. His head slightly forward and posture completely still, as if he does stand outside in the pouring snow.
“Our holidays are soon.” Sunwoo too leans forward, “Eric-”
He points at Jacob, “You know Eric?”
The other one nods attentively.
“Okay, good." “He’s holding a party this weekend, let’s go.”
Jacob leans back again, letting his back fall to the rest of the chair and he looks at Sunwoo with a rather uncertain expression.
“I don’t know.”
“Why?” He sees Sunwoo’s eyes squint with a momentary head tilt.
“I’m not good at parties.” His shoulders are stiff and features rigid and square.
Sunwoo too falls back in his chair, to mimic Jacob’s expression before smiling again “Saying it like it’s hockey or something, you just have to be there.”
Jacob’s still looking at him without words or smiling.
“Either way, Party Pooper, I’m going to get Y/n to the party.” He suddenly grabs the black ink pen from the right side of the desk. Brings it close to the Angel’s face and motions it in the same pause between his words.
The silly little witch movements makes Jacob quite amused, but nonetheless, the words leaving his mouth and the determination behind his eyes. It all shines like the metal frame, outlining each square of the high ceiling window.
The Angel lifts himself off the back rest once again, reaches his hand up to the metal tip at the end of the plastic pen. As so, he forces it down to the wooden surface and Sunwoo still looks at him.
“What if she doesn’t want to go?”
“I’ll have to deal with that later.” He lifts his shoulders.
“But isn’t that a waste of time?” Jacob continues.
“Not in my opinion.”
“But what if-”
“Do you have something against her or what?” Sunwoo cuts him off abruptly. The one from the opposite side notices how his eyes diverge from his own and flees everytime Jacob chases after them. Sunwoo’s own question is rather loud when he crosses his arms and eyes sharp directed towards the Angel. Jacob feels his own hands grasp each other in his lap and his eyes awkwardly look down the first floor as to see if anyone heard.
“Not against her so.” Jacob shifts his arms around before his chest.
“I just don’t think…” He struggles as their eyes lock once more and in the furthest corner of his vision, he sees Sunwoo’s fingers impatiently bend the plastic of the ink pen.
“...That she’s good for you.”
Sunwoo furrows his eyebrows, "Why?" Like you know her? She doesn’t talk to anyone.”
“I do know.” He looks at the other one sternly, “I do know, Sunwoo.”
He rolls his eyes, “Who have you talked to? Danny from architecture that has seen her once like everyone else? Stop falling for peer pressure, Jacob.”
“No.” Jacob buries his face in his hands. The sigh echoes throughout the square area they are in. He stands up. The chair grinds against the wooden floor and spreads from their table. Students from the same floor behind the bookshelves eye the two.
“Chill, dude.” Sunwoo puts his hands up.
“No.” Jacob grabs Sunwoo’s right wrist and forces him up, his chair too leaves a mark on the parquet.
Sunwoo sees the eyes of their peers as each step Jacob takes echoes throughout the shelves and climbs up to the floor ceiling. The right side of the double door flies open as they walk out. At the center of the horizontal hall, the one in disguise looks left and right as the one connected by the wrist stares at the other in bewilderment. At last, at the end of the hallway on its left plane, sits a door in the same color as the wall. A rather beaten up one with a slim frame and no rectangular plate to inform its name.
Before Sunwoo realizes what he’s staring at, Jacob forces his hand closer to him and starts walking towards the door. And at just one meter away from it, as Jacob reaches out to the door handle.
“You’re gonna take me hostage now or what?” Sunwoo asks.
Jacob doesn’t answer, instead, the door behind the two of them shuts close. The corridor they stand in falls silent once again and neither of them can make out the lines of silhouettes or practical equipment in the still darkness.
“This is a secret.” Jacob speaks to him as his eyes have started to adjust, “I’m here to protect you, Sunwoo.” He says clearly.
“Okay?” Sunwoo says skeptically.
Jacob sighs deeply before he angles his arms to get the blue fabric off his back. Now, Sunwoo’s eyes have also started to become familiar with the shadows. And before him, near the corner of the room where the shelves are, he sees Jacob struggling to get the blazer off and his arm meet the one shelf, creating a contained sound in the room.
“Don’t take off your clothes, dude.” Sunwoo eyes him in disgust.
“I’m not getting naked.” Jacob answers frustrated. He refuses to argue further with the one crammed into the far corner. Sunwoo stands beside a rigid old broom, his eyes following its silhouette down to the floor and takes it in his hands.
As he looks at the one opposite towards him, his figure outlined by the faint light seeping through the cracks in the door. Jacob finally gets that piece of fabric off his arm and the blazer falls to the left off his leg. Suddenly, the light between the door and its frame fades out of view. The liminal space in the midst of the corridor becomes even darker and cramped as a white clean complexion rises above their heads.
Sunwoo squints as he lets go of the broom. The wooden material hits the wall loudly before it plummets to the floor.
“Take the wings off man, that’s embarrassing.”
Jacob feels Sunwoo's shoulder brush against his own, and without hesitation, Jacob turns around before the other reaches the door handle. The fabric of his shirt tangled between Jacob’s own fingers as he drags the boy closer, away from the door.
“It’s real! I’m your guardian angel!” He whispers-shouts and points at the feathers behind him, “Touch!”
“No!” Sunwoo holds the same tone.
“Why are you so stubborn!?”
“Why do you have wings on!?”
“Because I’m your guardian angel!”
Jacob continues to whisper back at him, Sunwoo stops answering, instead silently stares at him in the dark. The Angel lets out a frustrated sigh and as he does, the wings behind him twitches slightly, opens and closes as much as they can in the liminal space. Sunwoo tilts his head, through with furrowed eyebrows and back against the door. He still bends his knees slightly to see the end feathers of his wings.
“Here.” Jacob has stopped whispering, his voice, gentle and silken like the first time they met. He turns around, with his back towards Sunwoo, to let him see the practical details, he spreads them slightly.
“They look pretty good. Where did you buy them?” Sunwoo asks with crossed arms.
“You can’t buy them, I’m born with them.”
There’s two holes in the back of his white shirt. Slit vertically down, and the right goes just a bit further down the left. And truly, as Sunwoo leans forward, he tells his eyes not to deceive him when the skin underneath the layers of white feathers connects seamlessly to the back.
“You truly are a weirdo.” His posture falls straight again, back against the door surface.
“What does your wings even have to do with Y/n?”
Jacob reflects the change in the way Sunwoo holds his body, as he lifts his head up to face him. The Angel rolls his eyes, letting the distance between his lips grow wider as to whisper debate part two. But as his vision, faded in shadows from all sides, comes up to the same level as Sunwoo’s, the eyes of his human, spellbound by genuine intrigue. Sunwoo’s head is tilted just slightly upwards, to watch his features in an angle never discovered before. Turn the motif he has built up of the man before him the past week.
“Not my wings.” ”But that I'm your angel.” Jacob corrects him. Without any motions, instead let his arms fall vertically down its sides, like before they stepped into the room without brilliance.
“Sorry, I don’t get it, dude.” He put his hands up again, “You don’t think it’s a good idea to shoot the arrow or are angels psychic all of a sudden?”
His wings flutter just slightly as Jacob breathes in, “First off, I’m not Cupid. Second, I’m not psychic.” He breathes out, “My mission is to protect you, we’re-you’re in danger, she’s betraying this place, using others for her own need.” The Angel points with his finger towards Sunwoo’s face. Follow the breaths as he speaks.
Jacob comes closer, laying his right arm over Sunwoo’s shoulder. The soft material of his sweater and the slight warmth that filter through the minimal knits. The Angel’s hand gently on his consciousness, Sunwoo abruptly becomes aware of the four walls, a border tight against them, cold because of lack of either sunlight or electric heat. A part of Jacob becomes rather confused as the one he protects, stubborn and appalled by inferiority, doesn’t move his hand away. Instead let it share its warmth.
Jacob bites his lip, nearly letting his fingers push against the fabric on his shoulder a bit harder. Something at an unknown place in his mind, draws a deep line within that place. Impending on the new wound, a part of him wonders if the words on the tip of his tongue are worth saying. That he’s slowly, but firmly pulling a part of the fabrication of the very machine he rules and protects. Nonetheless, he looks up again and speaks;
“I need to protect myself too, Sunwoo.” He whispers, “I’m not here on my own will, I need you to know that.”
How the world has refused to move even one step since they tread into the room. When they come back to the open floor and watch the identical students from before sit in the same position and flip through pages, the two of them wonder if it is the same pages they look at as before. Though, as the chairs from their table stand turned and diagonal, next to the vertical lines of the floor. Jacob watches how Sunwoo takes himself closer to the decorated edge. Like an image from a painting, the Angel sees his back clearly in view, follows each step and takes the place right beside Sunwoo as he leans on the wooden railing. Both of their shoulders fall in place without agitation as they look at the slow motions of the life before them. Sunwoo who fills his lungs fully with air, his body shifts like the transition of winter to spring as he breathes out. In another perspective, Sunwoo himself watches the white landscape grow all whiter as the snow continues to fall. Build on its height and dream of reaching back home.
“I guess that makes sense.” Sunwoo’s voice is rather low when his chin is cupped between the skin of his palm.
Jacob tilts his head and looks down at him, “What makes sense?” His voice is gentle. Pure like the true white color of snow. Sunwoo smiles slightly, which only makes the right tilt of Jacob’s head force the end strands to reach his shoulder.
“That.” Sunwoo looks up at Jacob. To use his shoulders in effortless motions, let the sharpest part guide the Angel’s eyes to an abstract point behind his back. Jacob eyes him without words and takes his hand behind his back, opens it fully and stretches his fingers around the center of the two wings.
Sunwoo laughs, “That explains why you’re so weird.”
“Good or bad?” Jacob asks worriedly.
“Good.” Sunwoo answers without hesitation and Jacob once again is left in a lone corner over the hidden paragraph between a single word.
“I like weird people.”
The one clothing reveal didn’t become as scrutinizing as he once thought. He watches the top of people’s heads navigate through the thin lines and how their steps cut right through the sun reflection on the parquet flooring. Though, despite the positive outcome of the break of rules, there must be an underlying reason, in his unconsciousness as to why he refuses to look up from the stained floor.
“Are you immortal or something?” Sunwoo asks abruptly. His voice, low and muted to the outside world, but the clearest thing in a single room as he speaks to him while conscious of the sentient world. His head finally gets to move with the minutes left of daytime.
“No, I’m not.” He furrow his eyebrows.
“How old are you then?” He looks back at Jacob.
The Angel’s quiet for a second, “As old as you? Or what do you mean?”
“So twenty three?”
“Probably not twenty three in human twenty three ways, but close enough.” Jacob motions with his hands.
“In dog years?”
“No-” Jacob stops himself to look up at the chandelier in a high ceiling, leans closer to Sunwoo and tilts his head, “Dog years, isn’t that the concept of a dog's maturity in human scale?”
“Yup.” Sunwoo answers in gray, dull tone.
“Okay, then kind of.”
“Do you have any memories then?” Sunwoo is now fully leaned on his arm with his entire body shifted towards Jacob’s own essence.
“I do.” Jacob smiles.
“What do you remember?”
“You.”
“Nothing else?” Sunwoo asks. Jacob looks away from him, the lids stay open as they refuse to close as he looks at the wall of spines. To run through all the pictures captured in time, see the grainy filter over his past and not a single one has without his face. He’s always there, either in perfect font or dream.
“No.” Jacob shakes his head.
“Really?” Sunwoo says skeptically, “You didn’t accidentally drop your ice cream before God or something?”
Jacob shakes his head, “I remember you dropping your ice cream at four, you started crying but your mom and dad were somewhere else, so I just stared at you. That was awkward.”
Sunwoo smiles at how Jacob’s eyes are focused towards a distant point as he describes parts of the life sequence. There is something amidst them, that distance between their two shoulders that have seemed to become shorter for every day, that has started to grow. A single sprout that gently planted itself at the center without either knowledge, and now starts to spread its petals. Time has seemed to strengthen the fabrication of each leaf.
It is rather funny, Sunwoo thinks, how the flower has bloomed between the frozen cracks of a winter. But only a sprout that has been through wither would be able to force itself up, between those layers. Therefore, Sunwoo finds himself quietly giving into the fabrication between the two of them. When looking at Jacob, he realizes he’s staring at his youth.
“I’ve been here as long as you” Jacob says suddenly, “, and stay here til you do.”
Sunwoo doesn’t say anything.
“All you do affects me too.”
Sunwoo nods his head silently and leans on his palm, “So if I jump out the window you’ll die too?” It was rather satirical, a hypothetical scenario wrapped in unseriousness from Sunwoo’s side, but the human has come to realize angel’s don't always take sarcasm.
��Yes.” Jacob says with a stern face. Sunwoo laughs silently and Jacob eyes him. Observing his serene motions and dares to walk closer.
“So don’t do anything bad.”
“Nice home.” Sunwoo looks around the room before he drops his bag onto a right angled carpet that hides whatever’s before the door.
“Mine looks like shit.”
“Yeah, I know.” Jacob nods his head and walks over to his bed.
“You do?” Sunwoo stands before the closed door and looks at Jacob who lies between sheets and pillows of low saturation in peach shade essence.
“Not seen it now, but when you were little.” He looks at the ceiling, “I just guess you haven’t changed.”
Sunwoo’s shoes stand in different directions of the black carpet beside Jacob’s that pointed towards the wall. He walks over to the one laying down, inspecting him silently before taking the pillow closest to the edge.
“You’re dissing me or what?”
“No-” Jacob doesn’t get to finish his sentence as Sunwoo throws the pillow down the calm state of the Angel’s face.
“Yeah, Cupid.”
“I’m not, Cupid.” Jacob sits up and takes the pillow from under his head and aims right at the center between Sunwoo’s eyes.
And so it continues until the one with a full human heart lies on the floor. His locks scattered over Jacob’s peach muted carpet. He looks a little pathetic from above, Jacob thinks and smiles. As the reflection of the angel above him clears, the outlines become perfect, he sees how Jacob reaches his hand out towards him.
“You’re so weird, why are you hitting your guardian angel?” Jacob forces him up and they stand in the center of the small square.
The brief daylight hours has passed this age by too and now, it’s the warm light from Jacob’s ceiling that pierce through the window and spread out over the nearby snow. The room has warmed up from the center where they sit and spread slowly to the outer corners. Jacob sits on the bed, his back against the window frame. In contrast, Sunwoo sits at the very bottom, on the peach colored carpet, but both with posture bend forward over the textbooks and computers like grass over the windy field.
Sunwoo has fallen in and out of the blank page before him about three times. To look at the window behind Jacob where, it every time, disappoints him, because there is nothing to look at in winter evening. Or go to the toilet.
At some point, when Jacob’s cursor hits the end of the A4 page, he stretches his back and yawns. Sunwoo looks over the horizontal line where the bedsheet gathers in folds, and sees how Jacob’s arms struggle in the blue fabric. The sounds of keys on the computer are now lost from this space and only the light noise of the ventilator lingers between the four walls. As Jacob stops stretching his arms, he takes off his blazer and lets it fall behind him on his orange sheets. The white wings stretch to the two opposite sides of his bed before they fall.
Sunwoo looks at him while leaning his hands on the carpet behind him, “How do you shower?”
Jacob answers hesitantly, “Like you normally shower?”
“Do you wash them with shampoo or something?”
“No..”
“Gross.” Sunwoo makes a face.
“Why? "Should I?” His eyes widen as he caresses the feathers of his left wing.
“I don’t know.” He suddenly falls down onto the floor, smiles as he closes his eyes, “I’m no angel.”
“Pretty obvious.” Jacob hums quietly and walks up.
At some the curve of his posture had fallen so deep that Jacob swore he could hear cracks of bones. And instead to pull strings above his back, Jacob fell backwards on the pillows. The computer on the lower end of his stomach and his chin in an unflattering position to see the lit up screen. Though, he let the words between four frames judge his current state and the sounds of keys filled the four walls. After another passage of time, Jacob’s stomach growls and he registers the lack of sound as he himself stops writing.
“Are you hungry, Sunwoo?” Silence.
As no answers come from the one below him, Jacob reaches himself over the edge. Spread across his carpet lies Sunwoo with his arms tangled and body in a rather complex position. His eyes, closed off from this plane of existence as his mind reaches another. For just a moment, Jacob watches him quietly from the bed above. There is something nostalgic that evokes from this scene.
Though, he does eventually stand up and take the pillow from the inner corner. It’s just a little cold as it was compressed between himself and the wall, isolating their frame from the winter lined streets. Jacob sits down beside Sunwoo’s chest, he gently lifts the boy’s head, without much sound lets the soft fabric catch his locks and the rest of his head. They sit for a second, completely unchanged, but Jacob sees the skin on Sunwoo’s upper arms create patterns of small dots. That he knows, his human form does that too when the cold itches to take the degrees from him. So, Jacob reaches over to his bed again, takes the blanket at the very end. He stretches it before it falls to the floor and replicates the silhouette of Sunwoo’s body.
As time passes and the visor on the clock up on the high wall runs in bold progress, Jacob sits in a silence, one he only can experience in this form. Despite the constant noise of the clock, the undying reminder that he does exist, the world somehow moves slower.
Jacob looks at Sunwoo’s face. Complexions without stress, in dreams he must be somewhere else, where life doesn’t tweak his eyebrows and strangle his skin. As they sit like this, Jacob wonders about his mission. The purpose of his arrival and existence. If he gets to reveal his thoughts, be true to the feelings inside his chest, Jacob can’t see a possible outcome where he forces Sunwoo’s heart in another direction. Despite their agreement, nothing but Y/n seem to cast over him as if in dreams.
Jacob reaches out his right hand over Sunwoo’s hair, gently feeling the strands brush past his skin. His mission to protect seems to have widened its edges and to save the boy before him has become more than to prevent blood scattered wounds. But to see him in delight knowing his fortune. As Jacob comforts his other half in the night, he thinks of young love and to, at least, not let the another presence color Sunwoo’s heart.
Ever since that day, when Jacob, just another student in his class, revealed his life secret and told him there’s someone actively protecting him. He hasn’t been able to describe it perfectly, to set his finger on the singular mark and feel confident in the linear placing. Rather, he lets the skin of his point finger brush past the reflective paper, stop at a spot underneath a highlighted world, until he reverts back to the opposite side of the paper.
As he walks away from campus, out on the broad streets, two lined at the edges and a center path where all the snow has collected towards the sides, painted brown from cars. Sunwoo feels a strange sort of responsibility for the new perspective of the world. Despite the enlightenment being a revelation of a ruler watching him silently, he feels an even stronger obligation to become an active part of the otherworldly dynamic.
A father with his child walks past him, and Sunwoo pushes his hands even deeper into his pockets. His breath paints a vague white cloud in the shade of the snow beneath him. And when a car drives past him, in the back of his mind, he considers walking closer towards the decorated glasses.
As he looks at the same scenery, but in different seasons, he stops as he comes outside the mall. At the center, beneath the fabrication folding out over the street, he looks at the sign that will soon turn on, and then, the glass doors on row. How people push and pull the doors without a consistent pattern. Each window shop is scattered with snowflake stickers, red ornaments, green bushes and golden lightning. Sunwoo adjusts his hands in his pockets once again as he longingly watches into the world he knows too well.
To stand there, he realizes how much of his time depends on a single ritual, a single person. What is he supposed to do if not going in, he thinks. Jacob was busy, apparently. Been running around all month trying to convince him to not reach out his hands towards Y/n, seems like life finally catches up to him. Sunwoo smiles as he thinks about Jacob ignoring papers, deadlines and assignments and how his wings twitch in anxiety as he runs to the shelf in the library. .
“Hi.”
Sunwoo jumps from one concrete square to the other. By reflexes alone, his hands tangle themselves out of the pockets, and he holds them before his face directed right towards the voice who called him. Though, the frown on his face fades from view as he sees the features between his fingers. On the opposite side of the concrete square, drowned in melted snow, stands the girl he watches everyday from this place, though, instead she stands beside him.
She looks at him, doesn’t break eye contact for even a second when his hands fall down to its sides. As they stare through the looking glass to the heart of the other, Sunwoo wonders if Y/n has ever looked at him for this long. He figures the longest they’ve held some sort of visual connection outside his dreams, it is the barely second long stare when he drops a pen during lectures and she turns behind to look at what went on.
Y/n herself forces the part of her face to stay in place. The boy before her stands with eyes large as the reflective ornaments behind them. He refuses to blink and she wonders if she’ll need to walk up to him and move the lids up and down for him. As to not laugh, Y/n reaches down to the ground, and Sunwoo’s eyes follow. A glove and candy wrapper lies on the spot between the two of them, it must have flown out when he shoved his hands out ( like a loser!!?!??!? ) he thinks, does a painful face when she faces the ground instead of him.
“Here.” Before she reaches up fully, Sunwoo lets his shut eyes and creased skin fall into an unbothered expression. The hand in front of his mouth, fingers that curled up slightly as if to rip a piece out of his own teeth, shifts behind his back. Now she stands before him fully, even closer than the first time she scared him. Her hand with his glove and wrapper are dreadfully close, in a way where he sees his past selves fall to the floor. He thinks he can sense her perfume from this distance (really it’s the beauty shop five meters away) and he hopes to brush past the skin of her hands when he takes the glove.
“Thanks” Sunwoo scratches the back of his neck and reaches out carefully for her hand. Though, he doesn’t need to wish as he spreads his palm. A single star enchanted in a miracle must have fallen in daylight as Y/n takes her free hand around his wrist gently, turns it so his palm faces the sky and gives the glove and wrapper. A butterfly that has been slowly waking up in his stomach, for the first time sets itself free when she brushes past his fingers.
“No worries.” She smiles and Sunwoo says something incoherent which makes Y/n lean in closer. The simple motion makes him nearly drop the glove again and Y/n smiles even harder than the moment before.
To have never paid much attention to the boy before him, simply just acknowledged his present when the moment called for it, she feels strangely enthralled by having so much affect on him. Though, she decides to conceal that feeling, hiding it away in the cold shadows so as to not make judgment for her.
“You’re not with Jacob?” She asks curiously.
Sunwoo who has stood in absolute silence, barely on his knees as they seem to give up every time she takes a step closer towards him. The butterflies grow old in a single second at the mention of the Angel’s name. That conversation from a day before replays in his mind and apprehensive commotion take his heart from behind, like the sudden wind. He straightens his posture.
“No, he had other things.” Sunwoo falls over his own words and the single pupil can’t seem to find a comfortable spot in the crowded entrance decorated in warm tones. Y/n’s own arm falls to her sides, out of her pockets and her chin forces upwards, to let her features hidden under the scarf out. Each part and motion of her essence seem to open up as Sunwoo forces his body closer against his heart. To rigidly press up his shoulders and force the scarf higher up, as to feel his warm breath on the fabric.
“Are you cold, Sunwoo?” Y/n takes another step towards him, takes her hand without a glove on his red cheek. The sigh at the back of his throat that suffocates behind the material of clothing, he sees the red ornaments in the background, become vivid as her eyes, clear as the lightning in the shop window, looks into his own. A part of him speaks to lean in against her touch, close his eyes and let her brush the past off his skin. While he hears how Jacob’s voice lingers between his two ears. To run away and stay close and protect his unstained heart.
“You really are.” Sunwoo doesn’t get to react before Y/n takes his arm jacket. To navigate the thin space between padded layers and paper bags, Sunwoo nearly trips over as they come to the final glass door, dividing the two spaces. In the mall, at the black carpets where melted snow has spread over, they stand, Y/n still in grip with his jacket.
“You should get something warm.” Y/n says and looks up at him as they walk further into the mall.
“I have no money.” Sunwoo answers distressed as he can feel Jacob’s almighty pressure beat down on him from above.
“I have, don’t worry.”
How foolish he does feel as they sprint pass the endless store windows and openings. His sneakers that are not built for melted snow lose grip on the marble floor as they come closer to a cafe in the inner corner of the mall. Sunwoo curses himself silently as he every season refuses to change shoes, better not become a habit if he ever gets rich enough to get a car, he thinks.
The cafe they walk into has a rather dark complexion, contrasting to the white marble floor of the outside. Y/n is still holding his arm, she leads him further into the warm light and velvet furnitures. Sunwoo simply looks up at her own features as she gently pushes him down the couch in the absolute furthest corner of the cafe. Y/n herself, takes a step back, in which Sunwoo starts incoherently talking and reaching out his arm again.
“I’m getting us something warm, I’ll be back, Sunwoo.”
His arm, freezed in that space she left it in. He watches her silhouette disappear behind a wall to get to the counter, and when only the low sound of christmas music reaches him. He falls back into the velvet material, smiles so deeply that he has to hide his face in between the material of the scarf.
His emotions as if being pushed by two opposite parts, he feels like. Sunwoo rests his head against the soft material and feels two identities on each shoulder. Jacob on one, Y/n on the other. Each one takes a stern grip on his shirt and creates tidal waves in his heart. And how hard it pulsates in the very center of his chest. He tries to figure out, as he watches the abstract pattern on the ceiling, is it of fear of complete infatuation?
He doesn’t get to wonder about that for much too long as he hears footsteps come all closer. Sunwoo forces himself off the back rest, a red pillow lands on the floor, before his feet. But it flashes past him and he forgets it as soon as Y/n stands before him with a black tray. Her beanie and scarf is off and it rather rearranges her hair and shirt. So beautifully natural in a slightly tired stage, how he wants to grab his shirt and kiss her, he thinks. And if it weren’t for Jacob at the other line, he might have stood up and asked her.
“You’re throwing pillows?” She asks while laughing. Y/n place the tray on the table and reach down. Sunwoo, too, reaches for it after scratching his neck. They awkwardly meet at the very bottom of the floor, both of them with their own hand on the velvet material. Sunwoo looks in her eyes genuinely as she too has paused before him. As if it’s the only time in his life where stars collide, he observes each of her shadows and highlights in deep adoration, as if to paint that picture when he can’t reach out for her.
Y/n who gifted her hand to fold him weak in his knees, feels her own heart suddenly chime off like the bells in the far winter distance. Those seconds feel like minutes and she tears her eyes off his own and takes the pillow.
“You should eat, Sunwoo.” She coughs and motions at the tray.
He slowly sits up too, looks at the tray. Latte, a pie of sorts and two apples.
“Okay.” He stutters and tries to take off his scarf. The end tangles itself into his jacket which in turn, secures in a part of the couch.
Y/n bites her lip as too force down a genuine smile over his fast paced and incautious motions.
“Here, drink this.” She coughs again as she holds out the white porcelain cup towards him. How the tidal wave turns again and Sunwoo scratches his neck and leans just slightly away from the cup.
“I don’t think I should-”
“Why?” Her smile disappears in an instant and he grows even more anxious.
“I’ve been sleeping badly.” He forces a laugh and takes the cup from her hands, “But I’ll take it either way.”
Time awkwardly passes them as they sit by the table. Sunwoo drinks from the coffee, but hasn’t touched either the pie or the apple. A part of her suspiciously watches the scene in third person perspective. The rigid posture of his shoulder and the constant change in focus point. As if someone else is on his mind.
“What are you thinking of, Sunwoo?” She asks gently. He looks at him with big eyes and then the window.
“The coffee." He says enthusiastically and lifts the cup, “I think it’s the best of my life!” He smiles, but he judges her as unconvinced by the look she gives him alone, so he supports his statement, just like in class, “Wow!”
As no words come out or a change in expression, Sunwoo closes his eyes for a second and mentally throws his body out the window. And when he opens and sees her face once again, he falls back in his seat.
Another moment of silence passes.
“You can tell me, Sunwoo.” She smiles and scoots a bit closer towards him, “If you’re comfortable of course, I’m a good listener.”
The pendulum in his heart swings to the opposite side as he looks at her eyes filled with warm light reflection from above. The worries in his mind, that’s been running all day and night, that tears at his skin and holds him away from dreams. He holds the cup in his hands, because if he even dares to open his mouth, he feels the words come out of him like waterfalls.
“I’m just a bit confused, I guess.” He admits and looks at the dark wall.
“Of what?” She asks with a low voice and watches his side profile.
It is painfully quiet before he speaks, to filter the words he wants to say, “Life, I guess.” He says, “I don’t really know what I want.”
Y/n, too, becomes rather like the snow falling outside as he sincerely, just lightly, loft the curtain cover over his heart. The music fades as her mind leans closer towards him, the thin line into an undiscovered part of the world.
“Is it a lot of choices or…is it just blank?” She asks cautiously.
“Or I do know.” he falls back in his seat, “It’s just, someone said it’s not a good choice for me. But I feel happy when I think about he-it.”
The sentence leaving his lips comes like an arrow, aimed at the very center of her complex. The fatal end of the arrow forces itself in between her skin and before Y/n can even react, it sits, so dangerously in her heart, hanging by that very metal. How her own structured play melts in that same spot, run down her lips even when that inner part burns to keep it in.
“I also want something that is bad, apparently.” She speaks and looks down her own lap.
“Is it a person or…” Sunwoo dares to ask, “or something else?”
“Something else.” Y/n fiddles with the hem of her sweater.
“Will it hurt you if you do it?”
Y/n looks up from the tearing string of her shirt. As another snowflake falls to the floor, their eyes connect. She needs to look slightly down, as he lies on his back against the furniture. The lights illuminate him from above and a single shine from the left casts itself over his heart and eyes. The sight before her leaves her breathless somehow, the arrow twists itself a bit harder and somehow she leans in and answers him with a tone of clear night sky.
“I don’t think so.” She pauses and looks at his brown eyes dipped in sunlight, “Will it hurt you?”
Sunwoo shakes his head delicately against the fabric, “No, …but someone else might.”
She frowns, “Might?”
“I’m not sure, I haven’t ask-” He stops talking mid sentence, sees from the perspective behind the wall how the curtains lift a centimeter higher for every word spoken, “I don’t know.” He repeats.
Sunwoo’s hand, softly spread out over the couch. The velvet material forces itself out between his fingers and plummets down against the frame when another, just like his, lies over it. Sunwoo looks down at the spot where two essences connect. How the impulses bridge over to the other when they lay skin to skin. He follows her arm, up to her shoulder and her eyes. He gets taken aback just a bit by her expression. She’s awfully quiet and won’t give him that gentle sweet smile she has been giving him since outside. Rather, it’s something earnest in her dull frame. Something that can’t be quite expressed in words, rather he stares at her and tries to figure the feeling in her eyes. There’s a window in her eyes to another world, and he feels an yearning to get to that place.
“Sunwoo?” She asks him with her hand still on his, “Will you help me?” Y/n stops.
“Help me get away-”
Y/n’s hand falls behind her back, when Sunwoo abruptly takes his hand closer to his own presence. To stand up and reach for the high ceiling when everything else melts to the floor.
“Sorry, I have-'' He desperately reaches for his scarf in between the pillows.The oil lamp on a round table shakes as he accidentally hits it walking away from the table. Sunwoo tears his eyes off her figure and down to the floor the moment he sees her expression drenched in midnight rain. Though, the angel on his shoulder points at her wildly, turns on her sides and desperately shouts in his right ear until its voice rings of pain.
“I’ll pay you back later.” He falls over words and trips over his other foot as he turns on his heel. Y/n opens her mouth, but before even the first syllable escapes her lips, Sunwoo is behind the wall, out of view. The last trace of him is the fading footsteps running out of the small corner, and the dark velvet spot where his hand was.
“You forgot your apple.” She nearly whispers as her voice is no longer to use.
The sun has completely disappeared under the horizon. Not even a moon in a clear dark night, as it snows heavily. Beneath the streetlamps, where the light is at its strongest before spreading in all directions, you’ll see the feather-like fragments plummet down towards the white mass. Though it’s dark without a star course in the sky, the snow is astonishingly white that the warm tone from the lamps reflects from the ground.
A single trail in the new snow leads up to an apartment complex. Horribly painted spots in rough edges, scattered without a clear pattern and probably pretty badly isolated. Jacob sits at the edge of a window frame. About three meters off the ground. To carefully watch the secret world behind the glass, Jacob turns himself slightly and leans in towards the room. It’s completely dark, not a single light source on. Rather the only thing looking back at him is his own eyes and the faint shape of his wings.
The snow on the frame melts underneath his fingers, it turns red and itches. Jacob waves the water of his hand as his human body is a burden before starting to unlock the window. He remembers back in time, when Sunwoo had his own little room, one wall away from his parents. It was about two or three times Jacob had to force himself between the thin creak.
He gets the glass door open and widens the gap. The wind from outside prevails and spreads into the room. Brush past the curtains and extend itself onto each surface of the apartment. Jacob himself takes a step onto the carpet beneath the window. His bare foot makes no sound and a slight grind lingers between the four walls as he closes the window.
Jacob let his eyes observe the home in a panorama like manner. And at the very right of his presence, is a bed in the farthest corner. He leans in, to discern the shadows in the fabric. Nearly completely covered by the sheets, he does catch the top of her head. Y/n sleeps in near silence and Jacob carefully takes a step backwards from the bed, instead closer towards the kitchen area.
He saw the scenery from today, brushed past him and he shivered as he sat in the library. On the way home he tried to meet up with Sunwoo, but his voice was short and rigid on the other line. Events seem to fall in line for her, but stars can’t die right now, he thinks. So in a desperate attempt to save himself and Sunwoo, Jacob stands as an intruder in her home to find the red apple from the cafe. He knows she took it home, therefore he takes his hands on the wall to feel himself getting closer to something of a different texture.
“Why are you in my room?” A voice tired and confused from the corner he just left takes a single knife and lets the blade wound the quiet night. His shoulders tense up and he refuses to either turn his heel or take a look behind his back.
“I’m not.” Jacob answers in a painfully unconvincing manner.
“You are.” By the two words alone and her tone, he can see the frown on her face.
“No.” Jacob walks further away, accidentally hits the wall and moves left.
“Why are you showing your wings?”
He’s quiet for a second, “It’s a costume.”
“Like Cupid or what?” She scoffs.
He breathes in, “For the las-I’m not Cupid.” He moves his hands in an outward motion, “I’m an Angel, an Guardian Angel.”
“Seems like I hit a nerve.” She says and sits up. Jacob’s quiet. At this point, the dark complexion of the room and their eyes has adjusted to one another and Y/n sees him in the other end, outlined without any blemishing. Awkwardly rigid in the very end, reminiscent of a lamp post and he caresses his left wing.
“You never answered my question, Angel.” She says.
“What?”
“Why are you in my home?”
“I don’t know.” He flees again.
“You’re in here checking the architecture or what?” She sighs and looks at him with sharp eyes, “I know you’ve been talking with Sunwoo.”
Jacob looks at her again, expression much colder than before, “And I know you’ve been too, don’t come close to him.”
“Is that what this is about?” She asks.
“I’m not telling you.” He takes a step forward and looks over the kitchen sink, “Where do you have your food?”
“In the fridge.” Y/n deadpans.
“No.” Jacob hits his forehead.
“You’re not even human to begin with, don’t tell me where I should store my groceries.” She pushes up the sheet and stands up. Jacob looks around the counter again, to seek a rounded form with red shadows, but as the surface is seemingly empty. Jacob takes three steps towards the window and opens the glass door.
“Jacob-” Y/n turns from her bead and grabs his arm as his wings fold out in her room. The wind from outside brushes harshly against her skin.
“Don’t bring Sunwoo into your mess, Y/n.” He looks at her and his eyes of liquid moonlight, in the same shade as his wings but brighter. She’s left with her mouth just slightly agape as Jacob looks less human by a single change in perspective. The wings weighs over him heavily and another wind scatters the hair oóver his human complexion.
“But I-”
“Just don’t, please.” As the last words leave his lips and the grip on his wrists has started to loose. A wind much stronger than anything from outside forces her hair to alter from before her chest to behind her back and waters her eyes. She closes her eyes before desperately letting her upper body out the window, watch how his silhouette fades into snow in the night..
“Do you need to go, then?” Jacob stands before the sink in his room, drops of water following a constant pattern down the drain as he watches a puddle in the very bottom form. Though, he does shift his vision away, out to the open space before his bed, where on the carpet, Sunwoo lies spread out like a starfish. The sight has become too familiar that when Sunwoo isn’t here and Jacob goes to bed and looks down to see no one, it feels rather desolate. He walks through the front door nearly everyday in the afternoon or evening. Jacob asked him if he should get a mattress, full time on the hard floor spot, but Sunwoo insisted not to.
“Yes, Eric’s gonna kill me if I don't," he sighs. Jacob takes the glass up to his mouth once more and watches Sunwoo shift his head on the ash orange fabric.
“He’s like “Sunwoo,we’re were you?! I prepared this little bowl-you didn’t even show up!”” His hands up in the air, vertical from the floor. It is rather amusing when he shifts one of his legs up and starts imitating his friend in a high voice.
“Either way, Y/n’s not gonna be there.” Sunwoo sighs.
“Why?” Jacob asks.
“We sat at a cafe, short said, she probably thinks I’m a maniac or something?”
“Did you tell her about our suspicions?” Jacob eyes him.
His hands force the rest of his body off the floor. The strands in his hair are loosely tied together and his eyes roll up before coming back down, “No, I didn’t, I wouldn’t do that.”
Only the awkward lingering noise of the microwave can be heard in the room until Sunwoo speaks up again. To watch the Angel before the counter behind the illuminating light beneath the shelf, “I’m going, you decide on your own, Cupid.”
Jacob did go eventually, though half way towards Eric’s house Sunwoo needed to hold onto Jacob’s arm. The angel either fell knees first in the snow accumulated corners or landed on his back when the streetlights hit the ice at a certain angle. At the front of the house, behind the windows you’ll see pink purple shade light seeping out and faint music from the vertical wooden walls. Sunwoo takes Jacob’s lower arm tightly against himself as he nearly cartwheels down the steep to the right.
“Aren’t you supposed to fly or something? Why can’t you even walk?”
With Jacob being a closer impression of Sunwoo’s potential cross body bag when they stand before the door, the one with free hands knocks at the upper side of the rectangle piece. Before he even gets to fully let his hand fall back to his side, the door frees from the frame and before them stands Eric. Expression extremely bright at first, the most vivid detail of a single scene, but it fades when his eyes form into a frown.
“Who is he?” The one inside tilts his head and looks at Jacob desperately hanging from Sunwoo’s arm. The angel realizes the rather massive plot hole opening up from underneath him and stays quiet.
“Jacob, you’ve met before.” Sunwoo says, so clearly without any sort of doubt, that he may have convinced Eric alone with that.
“Have I?” "Maybe I have?” He looks up at the upper door frame. Crosses his arms and falls into wonder.
“Let us in Loser, feeling like a frozen fish finger out here.” Sunwoo deadpans and Eric immediately jumps to the right, extends his hand out and motions it slowly towards the warm litten inside. Jacob, though, he’s inside and feels the warmth of the electric heaters dissolve the frozen part of his skin, he becomes even more rigid.
People with faces he can’t name stands in groups. Each conversation blends together with the other and that in it by itself, overpowers the faint music playing from a corner on the left. fairy lights taken from the constellation itself hang on the edges of the second floor. It is darkly lit with a warm violet hint covered in every wood wall. A single christmas tree in the inner corner.
A strong feeling of embarrassment comes rushing over him in a single storm and Jacob awkwardly starts grabbing the color of his blazer and stands, once again, like a street lamp far from the corner.
“What are we supposed to do?” Jacob says quietly and looks over at Sunwoo. The expression of the other one is as casual as if they were just walking down the uni lectures, though, he frowns his eyes and asks him to say it again.
“What’s happening?” Jacob repeats.
Sunwoo lifts his shoulders, “What usually happens when you’re with people.”
“Am I supposed to know that?” Jacob higher his voice.
“This is what middle school dance parties prepared you for.”
“I never went to middle school.” He deadpans and Sunwoo stares at him with tired eyes. Despite the moon-like shine illuminating over the walls and reflected in the single ornaments, Sunwoo’s eyes are as dead as if staring at a piece of concrete.
“You Loser, I forgot you didn’t go to middle school.”
The Angel is about to take his arm up and defend himself, but Sunwoo shifts his vision from him towards the violent presence hitting his shoulder. The group of people standing before them, Sunwoo, returns the hit on a guy much taller than him. As if a scene out of his horrors, Jacob once again tense up as the group of guys smiles and takes Sunwoo’s shoulder, but becomes wide eyed or frowns when they see the street lamp in blue blazer.
“Who’s this?” One further back asks and Sunwoo casually takes Jacob’s own shoulder.
“Jacob, my big brother.”
“You don’t have a brother.” One is quick to interrupt.
“Now I have.” Sunwoo turns his head in a motion so quick that Jacob takes a step back. Two of them seem to have fallen into a conversation on their own, slowly walking away from the circle. Jacob makes eye contact with the one closest to him, he examines him in a sort of manner that makes him strained and legs nearly restless. As Jacob takes steps in his place that ultimately leads nowhere, he gives a painful smile to the guy closest. Lips pressed and eyes in full contrast to the smile. Is he even there? Jacob thinks as the guy, still expressionless, watches him.
Another guy, beside Mister Dazed, takes a step out and reaches his hand towards him.
“Hi, I’m Changmin." Nice to meet y-”
“I need to go.” Jacob says abruptly and the group looks at him. The Angel points at a vague part of the horribly lit corner beside the closed door. It is rather a pile of outerwear, soaked in water from molten snow,
“You smoke?” One steps closer to him and suddenly throws his arm over his shoulder. In which, Jacob tenses up even more, dramatically presses his wings closer to his skin as he feels the stranger’s arm brush against the back of his neck.
“He can’t even-” Sunwoo starts.
“Yeah!” Jacob forces a smile.
“We’ll go together.” The guy says and Jacob laughs with wide eyes.
“Actually.” He bends his back just slightly, escapes the stranger’s arms and shifts his direction. Back against the door as he moves all the further from the group, “...alone smoking is my favorite thing.” He smiles, “Been waiting all day!” Jacob takes a last step before turning fully away from them, each guy stares in silence as the door opens once again and his figure disappears out the cold landscape.
“He won’t need an extra jacket or something?” Changmin points at the door and turns his head towards Sunwoo. In which the younger lifts his shoulder and takes a step further into the house.
“He’ll figure it out sooner or later.”
To stand up for another passage in time, Sunwoo stands with the group of guys, laughs in between their sentences and moves his legs to the standard christmas playlist in the background. His stomach may be just so empty that nothing’s enough to fulfill it, therefore he takes his hands up and gently forces the plastic cup in Eric’s hand back from him. And as the alcohol runs between the veins of every passing face, the center floor fills and spreads out in every direction. At some point the music rises in volume and his peers walk across the floor, up the stairs to the second. Someone hangs on the edge and pours the drink down the crowd. When Eric started to hysterically wave his hands to the person above and the broom became a proper part of his outfit, Sunwoo moved backwards from the crowd. Sit down on a sofa beside the christmas tree.
Though, as he has been sitting in silence, watch the crowd. A voice from another direction than where the silhouettes of black slacks, mini dresses and glitter in hair stands reaches him. Though the hopeless love song playing in his right ear, a gentle voice in his left says his name.
“Sunwoo?”
To move from one square of the couch to the other, he holds his hands up as he leans against the arm rest. It is nearly more than a meter in between the two of them as he sits like that. Though, his arms fall down to his lap once he sees her figure, contrasting the christmas tree behind her. He thinks about her posture, much more rigid and sharp than when he sees her in the hallways. Both of her hands, gathered before her thighs and held a small white bag.
“Hi, Y/n.” Sunwoo says in a monotone voice. His legs fold out in a comfortable position and his face shifts, away from her own presence and focuses on the floor, the high ceiling or the people on the second floor. Y/n bites her lip, just slightly before the lip tint fades because of his motions. The space between, as time passes it becomes a wall. It makes her tug on the red straps of the white paper bag.
“Are you having fun?” She asks after a time of silence. Sunwoo looks up again at her before, once again, taking a look at the door out.
“Not really.” He admits.
“Why?” She dares to take a step closer, so her knees touch the armrest on the opposite side. Sunwoo lifts his shoulder, letting his head scan the room in a panorama like frame before it falls to his shoes.
“I don’t know, I'm a bit lonely.”
Y/n nods, though he can’t see it, “Isn’t Jacob here?”
“He is.” He sighs, “Just pissing himself outside before coming back in.” Sunwoo deadpans as his head lies in his palm. The picture he drew with just one sentence makes the tense grip on the bag a bit looser. Y/n smiles as she imagines the Angel hesitantly running after Sunwoo in the dark. Run around the house ten times, do a breathing exercise he saw on youtube and come back in. She laughs slightly. The faint sound does reach Sunwoo’s ears and he looks towards her side.
“Sounds good.” She nods.
A sequence of the rather insignificant details of her life. Lied out before him in a span of a few seconds. Sunwoo stares at her, breathing and feels his own essence collapse further down the fabric of the couch. To shift back his vision to the dull colors and silhouettes of his shoes, Sunwoo closes his eyes, smiles only for himself to know, letting the nail of his thumb scratch on the skin of his pointed finger.
Y/n bites her lip again, feeling a sort of rush similar to eating sugar. It runs towards every corner of her body and cycles back to her heart. Slowly, Y/n takes a seat on the couch, still with a noticeable gap in between.
“What would you say if you got a present?” She asks and tilts her head to inspect him closely.
Sunwoo frowns, “I don’t know, I haven’t.”
Y/n moves a bit closer, “You got one now, would you reject it?”
Sunwoo silently watches her, feeling how the shirt tightens around his chest.
“I guess not.” He scoffs, this time can’t suppress the way his lips crease upwards. The vision of his eyes won’t seem to fall in place, as they land on the wooden floor again.
With that, Y/n takes the white bag from her lap, how the distance becomes extremely insignificant when Sunwoo can smell her scent from the bag and her wrists. Though, he simply watches her, without words or major motions. His eyes glisten from the shining light in the ceiling, stars above the ceiling and in the top of trees, but truly she thinks none of them compares to the single reflection in his dark brown eyes.
“Here.” She shakes the bag one time.
Sunwoo hesitantly reaches his hand out for the white paper. Takes the edge between his fingers as if not to stain the perfect white shade. Sunwoo looks between the bag and Y/n’s eyes, she nods her head and smiles again. Her hands grip the hem of her dress as he anxiously thinks about how he opens the package and waits for her confirmation as he undoes each bow.
As the edges open and reveal the inside. The folds of his clothing fall over his still body and a single strand of his fringe loosens from the side and covers his eyes. With his eyes curved perfectly in chocolate shade, he looks up to her what feels like the thousandth. She nods and he takes up a red apple. He observes the shade and slight pattern in the skin.
“I bought it for you then, I wanted you to have it.” She says.
There is too, the pie slice wrapped in plastic and tied in a bow. As if a picture from before has come back to life, to the present to affect their lives. Sunwoo grips the apple a bit tighter in his palm. Let the fruit shimmer from the light in between his fingers.
“I think food as presents is best.” She says suddenly, “You use it.” In the very bottom of the paper bag, filled to all for corners lies a red packet of strawberries.
He looks at the apple once again. He can’t quite describe the feeling in between the ribs and his lungs. How his heart beats profusely and the vision before him is as if from a dream. Sunwoo swears that this couch, behind this tree in this light, he has dreamt of before last night in his bed alone in his apartment. But unlike him in that bed in his past, he can’t without hesitation or extra thought bring her gift to his mouth and let it fill his heart. How the red skin glistens astonishingly bright, to fill his heart with red until the end of life. But unconsciously, he turns the apple, as if looking for mold spots. Purple shades where it has been infested and already consumed.
Though, as Y/n looks at him with an expression she has never given him or anyone else. One that wouldn’t be seen in the crowd, just between where the secret records can be hidden and never played. Sunwoo finally licks his lips, brings the fruit up to his mouth and takes a bite of the apple.
How the fiber texture crushes and spreads sweetness all over his mouth as he bites down. He looks at the broken spot where the red turns white and visualizes the deep red becoming a part of his own self, his own essence. As he looks up from that spot, he sees Y/n close to him. Her upper body leaned over his legs and her features so detailed in view that everything else bleeds into the other. And he nearly starts coughing on the piece of apple in his mouth.
Though, as she is leaned over, she holds one of the strawberries in her hand. Bring it close to his lips. Her left hand comes down to a spot on the couch between his thighs to come even closer when his face blossoms spring, red like the two fruits and forces his eyes away from her. Unintentionally lay his eyes on the crowd unaware and start laughing.
“Please, Sunwoo.” She says in a strawberry sweet tone.
Sunwoo rolls his eyes, in a single motion comes back up and takes a bite of the strawberry in her hand. Immediately after, taking her wrist and guiding the remaining part up towards her own, in which she too takes a bite. At that single moment, Sunwoo shifts abruptly closer to her chest as a cheer breaks out at the center of the floor. Red paper petals, like snow itself paints the space between floor and ceiling before decorating the floor.
-
How that world becomes silent as he steps out into the snow and lets the door behind him close. Jacob stands with his hands down his sides and watches how the moon and her stars let it shine graze the surface he stands on. The snow around his feet reflects it back, sparkles like it is earth's own constellation.
After some time, Jacob presses the snow beneath his feet into a tight layer as he walks away from the door. He comes to a rather hidden side where street lights are dim and a single wall faces him. To the right of a lonely window stands a green bin covered in snow. Each step echoes in that corner as he brushes off the snow and opens the bin. The moon shines its vague light over the insides and reveals black bags of shining material. He looks down for a second, letting the cold from around him come between his hands and numb them.
An angel’s mission has been broken. When Jacob opened the door once again, the crowd, as if all knowing, separated like curtains to reveal the one his purpose is to protect, on the sofa entangled like the galaxy itself with Y/n. How a scenery in a second sets off his breath and the constant fear that has been choking his neck. It chases him desperately as he walks a deep pattern in the snow. He feels his wings from behind.
At last, Jacob takes his hand back to the front. Down to his right pocket on his blazer where he takes out a lighter. Red hard plastic against his cold skin, taken from the pile of jackets, as he brings it closer to the black bags in the bin. How the music comes to him through the cracks in the walls as he struggles to push down the extinguisher. That single spot on his right thumb hurts as he, over and over again, pushes down the metal.
A hard knock against the wall before him makes Jacob fall behind the bin. He nearly lands on the snow as he embraces his knees in order to stay up. It falls silent the second after the rapture and Jacob slowly takes the lighter to his chest. Each of his breaths creates white clouds like the snow beneath him. Jacob lets his knees up gently and takes the tip of his fingers on the window frame. His figure in the corner furthest from sight while he peeks into the warm world before him. Three meters away stands Sunwoo with Y/n. Jacob swallows and lets his breath paint the cold window. They stand like him, in a far corner of the room where all the light has a hard time reaching and people pass them by. Though, the cold sensation on his fingers becomes all the more nonexistent as he watches how the two of them take each other's hands and fall back and forth to the muted rhythm. As they start turning around, Jacob sees the light nostalgic of the moon paint itself on his face. How every moment before this one has fallen obscene.
The last bit of ice around his heart, melts and drains out in the snow, as he watches how the world now belongs to them. It pains his hearts and even more the wings, but how the fear has stopped chasing him, sits beneath the window right before the Angel, to watch their mouth speak words only they can hear.
Jacob lets his hand fall off the window frame, all as his body too becomes even weaker. Finally, he sits fully in the snow with his back leaned against the wall, right under the window. The lighter against his chest, too, must now fall out of mind and plummet to the snow, like the rest of him.
“I’m so sorry, I hope you can forgive me.” Jacob whispers, and lets his wings free from his blue blazer and embrace the rest of him tightly.
A pastel filter lies over the world as Jacob opens his eyes. The angle gives the floor a steep perspective as the wooden lines lead him to the door. Red petals of paper are scattered before him. The spot on the floor has become warm, he feels his body get colder as he shifts his left leg. But rather than the cold, he feels a sensation much stronger as he gently spreads his finger over the floor. At the center of his back, pierce and rips burning wounds in his skin, and it becomes all sharper as the lines of the world become clearer.
“Jacob?”
He forces his head up from the floor, to again face the entrance. But as his eyes fall onto a figure, he angles his head upwards and sees Sunwoo looking down towards him. His silhouette is draped in haze and his blurred complexion shows concern over his impending body. Sunwoo comes all closer and falls onto his knees before Jacob’s weak figure.
“Are you okay, Jacob?” His voice is even louder than the last time.
Sunwoo’s hand touches Jacob’s arm and in the same instant, Jacob feels a sensation reminiscent of the end of a knife piercing right through the burning spot on his back. As the sensation affects him and forces him to fall back onto the floor, Sunwoo hesitantly takes his hands back, before leaning closer again.
“Jacob?”
“What’s with Jacob?” Another voice in the far corner of the room reaches the very mit. Hers is tired and exhausted, reflected in the way she looks around the room from the floor and weakly walks over to the two of them.
“Jacob?” Sunwoo says again and takes his hands over his upper arm. At that moment, he sees the spot beneath his blazer move frequently, pushing desperately to tear the fabric. Slowly, Sunwoo takes the collar of Jacob’s blazer and forces it off him. As the fabric lies beside his aching figure, both Y/n and Sunwoo watch how the white wings on Jacob’s back spreads free and falls before it fades to black. At the single spot in the room, each feather falls like snow over the pastel complexion.
Without another second of thinking or brushing his blazer, Sunwoo forces Jacob up by his arms. The fallen shut his eyes fully and his head hangs down and the strands of his hair cover whatever life left in him.
“Help me, Y/n.” Sunwoo says frustrated. Y/n watches in complete silence and opens her mouth to say something but nothing comes out.
“Please, Y/n, please.” He begs and Y/n shakes her head, leaves that spot and takes Jacob’s other arm. The Angel hangs by his arms on the two shoulders. He is heavy on their human bodies and Sunwoo starts walking towards the door.
“Where are we taking him?” Y/n breathes out as her head hangs low because of his weight.
"The hospital.” He stresses.
“We can’t.”
“What else should we fucking do?” Y/n doesn’t speak as his eyes are desperately staring into her own. The sight alone aches her. To whatever words that could be voiced, she suppresses them. Take a steady grip on the Angel’s arm and take the first step towards the door once again. Sunwoo follows without hesitation. The trail of feathers, mixed with red paper bits from a past night. How it all seems to be from a different life when they fiddle with the door handle. At last, the apple, half bitten, hits the inner corner of a wall as Sunwoo gets the door open, looking at the new sun as if it is the first time.
© littleroaes, written and all
symbolism & metaphor guide !
thank you for taking your time to read! a virtual cookie for you 🍪
#deoboyznet#the boyz#tbz#sunwoo fluff#sunwoo imagines#jacob imagines#tbz imagines#tbz scenarios#the boyz imagines#the boyz scenarios#tbz fanfic#Kim sunwoo#sunwoo#tbz sunwoo#the boyz sunwoo#tbz x reader#the boyz x reader#the boyz x y/n#the boyz jacob#tbz jacob#jacob bae#the boyz fluff#sunwoo angst
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a hindrance to peace
SUMMARY You remembered at an inconvenient moment that you weren’t your boyfriend’s first kiss, nor lover.
PAIRING kim sunwoo x gender neutral!reader
GENRE idolverse!au, established relationship, fluff, slight attempt at humor
WORD COUNT 1.6k
WARNINGS a jealous reader and an even more jealous sunwoo, they have a playful argument, two swear words, sunwoo is reader's first bf, nct's haechan mention (you'll see LOL), dialogue heavy
AUTHOR’S NOTE my first tbz/sunwoo fic inspired by this tiktok.. honestly, i'm a bit nervous to post this, but i loved writing it! feedback is greatly appreciated! ☻
MASTERLIST | REQUESTS: OPEN!
In between the adrenaline-filled moments with Sunwoo comes its fair share of soft and lingering ones that remind the memory of each other’s outline. Tonight was time for the latter, finding peace in the way your bodies intertwined on the sofa and words exchanged about anything and everything. At least, that was the initial plan.
He was talking about his latest project, accepting an offer to produce another group’s track. You were trying so hard to listen to him describe the vibe of the comeback, but the only thing you could feel was your overflowing pride for him. As a perfectionist, your boyfriend works very hard. You’re beyond delighted to find out that his talents and efforts have been paying off.
Out of excitement, you grab his face with the intention of giving him a congratulatory kiss. You both lean in, prepared to stop talking for the next few minutes, when all of a sudden, a revelation pops into your head:
Remember when he kissed people who weren’t you?
Your eyes are now wide open; you won’t let that slide. Though, you wonder why you’re only realizing it at this very moment.
Sunwoo’s parted lips hover over yours, but they never meet. Your palms no longer squish his cheeks. Simultaneously, you glare down at his mouth.
“What? What’s wrong?” You see his lips move, but his words don’t process for you.
One of your eyes involuntarily twitches, vividly imagining how Sunwoo’s perfect, plush lips have moulded against ones that aren’t yours, sighed names that don't belong to you, caressed others’ skin with his bare hands. Held his past lovers closer with the intent of never letting go (he eventually did, though, obviously).
He can so clearly see your face morphing deeper in distress with every unpleasant thought that makes its way into your brain; hiding your facial expressions wasn’t exactly your best suit.
“Hey.” He sternly tries to call out, yet you’re still stuck in your sulk. For about a minute, he thought you were pulling a prank on him. But with every passing beat that you don’t acknowledge his attempts to pull you out of your state, he starts to feel dread seep into his body.
Gradually losing his cool, he pats the side of your thighs, face, and eventually finds his hands in your own. He shuts his eyes briefly in relief when he feels you return his touch. However, you still aren’t verbally responding.
You’re trying, though, and Sunwoo catches your mouth opening, only to release a deep breath. As you look for the words to verbalize what’s plaguing your mind, you don’t think you can do it without sounding stupid and petty. You know exactly how he’ll react, and you’re unsure if you’re mentally ready to handle that.
Fuck it, you think to yourself after a bit. Might as well say it now than let it get bigger than it actually is.
“Nothing.”
…Is what you weren’t supposed to say.
As you hesitantly look at his face, his features start to grow with impatience, one of the many things you were avoiding. He cuts you off before you could even sound a letter out of defense.
Sunwoo sighs out exaggeratedly. “Well, it must be so unimportant that you deprived me of a makeout, hm?”
You stopped yourself from rolling your eyes at his tone. “What I meant to say was, I remembered something,” he hums back at you rather impatiently, but you dismiss it, merely raising an eyebrow at him, “that I’m not the only person you’ve kissed.”
“Well, yeah. We have talked about this before. Why are you thinking about my exes when we’re about to kiss?” The plural term he uses only adds a prick to your already agitated nerves.
“But you’re all my firsts. Like, we were made for each other, and you were out there fucking around with people who weren’t me? It isn’t fair.” As you say each word aloud, you’re slowly realizing how unserious this was, but you’ll keep stringing the problem along. That’s what he gets for kissing other girls.
He laughs at you in disbelief with his eyebrows furrowed, just as you expected. “You aren’t serious, are you? Sounds like a you problem that you have zero game.”
Sunwoo tries to steal a teasing peck, but you’re faster to block him with a throw pillow, halfheartedly offended by his comment. “But when I bring up the fact that you shoved Changmin just because I said he was attractive before we were dating…”
Pushing the cushion away from his face and to the floor, he looks back at you with the biggest pout you have ever seen. If it weren’t for the context of your current banter, you would’ve already whipped out your phone to take a photo. “That’s because you aren’t supposed to look at men— and women— who aren’t me!”
“Why are you allowed to get jealous and I’m not?”
The raccoon-resembling man in front of you pauses for half a second, lacking a logical argument to counter you. So he says whatever comes to his mind next: “...Because!”
“Changmin didn’t deserve that, by the way.”
“Stop that!”
“Not before you tell me why.”
He shakes his head violently and laughs, which eventually turns into a series of cut-off whines. “‘Cause my eyes are only on you! You’re the one I think about, no one else. The only time I talked about my exes was ‘cause you brought the topic up, not me!”
Ignoring the fluttering in your stomach, today marked the day that you decided egging a jealous Sunwoo was the best form of personal entertainment. “But if you hid them any longer, wouldn’t you have been lying to me?”
Your boyfriend rubs his hands over his face and dramatically reclines over the sofa’s armrest, his torso gone from your sight. “Yah! You’re insufferable.”
“Someone has to keep up with you somehow.” You tell him before rising from your once comfortable spot. He feels the couch shift when you stand up to get away from him, only furthering the playful argument the both of you are having.
You purposefully pass his line of vision, but it backfires when his hand latches on your ankle, making you jolt in surprise. “No… Get back here…” Trails out of his mouth breathily from the awkward position he’s in.
A few forceful jerks of your leg isn’t enough for him to release you, so you resort to squatting to pinch his arm, which surprisingly works. However, you don’t get far when running away to a Sunwoo-free area, because he’s already right behind you.
He grabs you from your waist, dragging you back to the sofa. You resist his grip but the warmth of his arms is too comfortable to get out of. Intentionally, you make a weak attempt to escape. “Let me go!”
“No.”
“Okay, what if I told you Haechan from NCT was also handsome?”
That was enough for Sunwoo to loosen his hold and turn you around to face him by the doorway of the kitchen, no expression present. You try hard not to laugh at his face, but at the same time contemplating if you were taking this too far.
With the flattest tone he could muster, Sunwoo says to you, “Be serious.”
You couldn’t hold in your laughter any longer, your arms wrapping around him due to cute aggression caused by the man himself. He hugs you back tightly after failing to keep his arms to himself, pretending he’s still upset. Not being able to see his face due to your position, you could only imagine the sulkiest expression gracing his features.
When you pull away from the long embrace, you see the pouty face you visioned. With his cheeks back into your palms, he leans into your touch and you guiltily smile at him. “I’m sorry! I love you, my Sunwoo.”
He smirks at the emphasis on my, feeling the pace of his heart quicken. Of course, nothing gets past you, deciding that a simple mouth twitch was enough to bring up your fresh “fight”.
“Now you apologize. And don’t ask what for, unless you want another round of me pestering you?”
His hand flies up to the back of your neck and lays your head on his shoulder, forcing you into another hug. “Nope, no more talking about exes and how you find my friends attractive.”
There’s a pause between his first and next statement, leaving you patiently (loosely used) waiting for the apology that was asked for. To your surprise, his words were spoken sincerely instead of the sarcasm you anticipated.
“I’m sorry for not taking your existence into consideration when I had other partners before you. Won’t happen again. I love you, I promise you’re it for me.”
Your fondness for him multiplies by the thousands, so you show it by squeezing and swaying him to the fullest. Eventually, you start littering pecks all over his face and Sunwoo catches a glimpse of how your eyes are brimming bright with love. He indulges in the feeling, thanking everything and anything that he has you all to himself.
But you abruptly stop to look at him with an undecipherable expression and he resists letting out an irritated groan, thinking you still haven’t dropped the bickering from a few minutes ago.
Faux confusion appears on your face as you look up to the ceiling, index finger rhythmically tapping your chin. “Actually, I can’t really tell that you like me. Could you show me?” You make eye contact with him again, tilting your head with a pout.
Oh. He can do more than that.
#the boyz#tbz#tbz sunwoo#sunwoo x reader#sunwoo x you#sunwoo x y/n#kim sunwoo x reader#kim sunwoo x you#kim sunwoo x y/n#sunwoo fluff#sunwoo x gn!reader#sunwoo imagine#tbz imagine#tbz x reader#the boyz x reader
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kim sunwoo — to the one who hung the sun in the sky
synopsis. you're not one to say sappy words, but for the one that hung the sun in the sky, the one that holds you like you're made of glass, the one that whispers loving words into your ears and pinches your cheeks afterwards, you can try just for him
pairing. non idol! sunwoo x fem! non idol! reader
genres. romance, fluff
warnings. reader just trying to voice out her love to sunwoo, pet names (babe, baby, sweet cheeks), sunwoo (he is a menace himself)
word count. 997
a/n. birthday special for woo ! happy late bday to my baef 😞🫶🏼 would have posted this earlier but i had exams this week LOL
YOU wake up to the sun peeking through the curtains, landing on you and enveloping you in a warmth that is unwelcome as you groan, squinting your eyes and kicking the duvet off your body, rolling around to stuff your face into your pillow but to no avail. sunwoo also groans, his arm flying out to stop you from moving, wrapping around your waist and tugging you closer to him. this makes you whine, sunwoo's body warmth being too much along with the sunshine hitting you.
"stop moving," he grunts, pressing his nose into the crook of your neck, pressing a kiss to it.
you shake your head. "you're too hot, sunwoo. let me at least get up to turn the ac on." you can feel his smirk against your skin.
"i know i'm hot, babe."
"sunwoo." with a slap to his arm, he loosens his grip just enough for you to slip away from his hold, sluggishly walking towards the window to close the curtains correctly and then towards the ac, turning it on before making your way back to your boyfriend. you don't even get the chance to lower yourself onto the mattress before sunwoo tugs you down with closed eyes, emitting a squeal from you as you fall down. sunwoo chuckles, wrapping his arm around your waist and nuzzling his nose into your neck, causing shivers to go down your back with each puff of warm air that hits your skin.
and it doesn't take long for sunwoo to fall back asleep while you shuffle in his iron-grip hold around you to get the duvet back on you when the room gets cold. now, you're staring blankly up at the ceiling, blinking. you blindly reach out to grab your phone, moving to see it behind sunwoo as you get comfortable. it's barely eight in the morning, and you scrunch your nose in annoyance at being up this early. but then you remember it's your boyfriend's birthday, and the note you left him on his side of the bed is neatly placed atop the bedside table along with his car keys. you flush in embarrassment when you see your handwriting.
sunwoo had a late shift yesterday, and he had told you that he wouldn't be getting back home until past midnight. you were already tired after having had a long day of exams and barely any sleep this whole week, but you still wanted to be the first to wish him a happy birthday, so you had taken out a piece of paper and wrote a sappy letter to him listing all the things you loved about him and wishing him a happy birthday before folding it and leaving it on his side of the bed, knocking out afterwards.
you pull back just enough to see sunwoo's face, his long lashes resting against his cheekbones. you let out a puff of air, muttering about how unfair it is that he looks so good at this moment despite just sleeping, your fingers moving to graze his brows before falling down to his nose. you stare at him, cupping his face to press a small kiss on the tip of his nose, resting your forehead on his afterwards.
there's a lump in your throat, but you remind yourself that sunwoo's sleeping. he won't hear what you're about to say. with a shaky breath, you begin to speak. "happy birthday, sunwoo. everyday, i'm a little more thankful to have met you. you're the one who hung the sun in my sky, you've made everything seem brighter and feel warmer, so thank you. i hope i can continue to see you grow into the wonderful being you are, even if you're a tad bit annoying at times," you laugh. "i know i don't say it a lot, but i really do love you. i love you a lot. so i hope you can let me continue to be at your side for many more years. happy birthday."
at the end, you sigh out in relief, feeling happy to let that all out only to gasp loudly when sunwoo's eyes suddenly open, his lips tugging upwards to form a grin.
"you—! were you awake this whole time?" you ask, baffled.
sunwoo merely hums, pinching your cheeks. "aw, my baby really does love me."
you huff, slapping his arm away and turning around, feeling hot all over your face. "shut up."
the boy laughs, kissing your shoulder. "sorry, sorry. but thank you for that letter of yours and now this," he says, reaching over to intertwine your fingers together. "...i know what you can give me as a present this year."
in your letter, you apologized to sunwoo for not having been able to get him something this year, mentioning that if he wants anything today that you would try your hardest to give it to him. you look over your shoulder with expectant eyes, waiting for him to continue.
he smiles. "your heart."
you snort, turning away from him again. "you're stupid," you laugh. "you already have that."
"you should be nicer to me," sunwoo says, grabbing you by the shoulders and turning you back around to face him. "it's my birthday, sweet cheeks."
with a hum, you nod with your eyes closed. "i know. again, happy birthday."
it's silent. you open an eye to see sunwoo staring at you, his face blank. his stare is intense, making your cheeks flare up, the blush reaching your neck and your ears. all he does is pull you close, lips lightly brushing against yours. "love you," he mumbles, his next kiss more feverish that it leaves you dazed. "so much."
sunwoo pecks you once more before resting his chin on top of your head. "let's go back to sleep. whatever i say, goes, you know? birthday privilege and all."
you huff through your nose, rolling your eyes, but nonetheless wrap your arms around his torso, tangling your legs together in a mess.
#kim sunwoo#sunwoo#tbz sunwoo#the boyz sunwoo#sunwoo x reader#sunwoo x you#sunwoo x y/n#sunwoo imagines#sunwoo scenarios#sunwoo fanfic#the boyz imagines#tbz imagines#tbz scenarios#the boyz scenarios#the boyz x reader#tbz x reader#tbz fluff#the boyz fluff#sunwoo fluff#woophilia
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