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@dazzlingjaeyun
·˚ masterlist | wips | about | taglist | faves ⋆⁺₊✧
─ .✧ recently !
if you don't know — park sunghoon
fwb drabble — wang yixiang
─ .✧ readers’ favorite !
bruises — sim jaeyun
© dazzlingjaeyun. all rights reserved.
fellow kpop stans who are also f1 fans, who's your ult bias and who's your favorite driver? i'm tryna see sth
we already talked about it but i want to yap some more
generally speaking my ult is jungkook and my favorite f1 driver from the beginnig on was carlos
lately oscar and kimi (my baby) are getting into my heart
AND ALSO you didn‘t ask but i will say anyway the team i support is ferrari hot girls support ferrari i don‘t make the rules
i literally manifested that oscar obsession for you 😋
fellow kpop stans who are also f1 fans, who's your ult bias and who's your favorite driver? i'm tryna see sth
hanna bear 😿 i miss you so much.
omg hi :( i HATE being so inactive here my degree is literally kicking my ass LMAO how have you been?? idk when you changed your theme but it's so pretty 🥹 SO SWEET OF YOU TO HMU POOKS
HIII i just wanted to come and give you this and thank you for all the reblogs recently mwah i hope you have a dazzling day!!
and also, how come you're rb-ing &t stuff on here? are you not going to use your &t account anymore?
OMG HIII ML you're so sweet 😭😭 i saw u posted another fic and i'm so excited to catch up asap hehehe!!
yeah, i realized i've been struggling too much to keep both blogs alive equally – and consequently, the &t blog has never gotten the same amount of attention from me and 🥴 i just decided to keep it as an archive and post my incoming &t fics on here (which is also why i transferred my recs to this blog)
Hello, how have you been? Long time no see. I was just checking in on you, and I'm sorry for not being as active lately; life has been complicated. I hope you're doing well, much love and I hope to catch up soon! 🫂
-🪷
omg hi 🪷-anon!!! you're actually the sweetest for always coming back to my blog ily :(( i'm sorry to hear life has been complicated, and i'm sending all the love and strength your way, i hope you'll feel better soon!! my dms are always open if you want to talk or vent (or if u wanna stay anon, also feel free to just yap in my inbox and i'll read through it without posting if you don't want me to 🥹) i'm doing well and your message has put a maaaaaassive smile on my face!! sending you hugs mwah mwah!
*sneeze* 🤧
razor sharp
pairing: psycho supervillain!sunoo x obsessed sidekick!reader
synopsis: two years of pining after sunoo like a pathetic fool, and for what? you sharpen his knives, handle his dirty work, and pretend your heart doesn't shatter every time he calls you "sweetheart" like it means nothing. you've built your entire world around him. but everyone has a breaking point, and you've finally found yours. shame sunoo doesn't handle loss well.
genre: superhero/supervillain themes, toxic romance, smut
warnings (MDNI 18+ only!!): smut(mean dom!sunoo x bratty!reader, sexual tension, rough sex, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (f. receiving), possessive behavior, degradation, praise, power imbalance, knife play, blood play, masochistic themes, overstimulation), knives, violence, cursing, obsessive behaviour, manipulation, jealousy, mentions of death, fight scenes
note: this fic definitely did not need to be this long, but i couldn’t stop yapping T T i really wanted to take my time building that toxic tension properly. i hope it came through the way i intended, enjoyyy
word count: 16.9k
taglist | more works!
you watched sunoo carve through heroes like they were nothing more than wet paper, and every single time your heart did this stupid thing where it forgot how to beat properly. he moved through the world with this casual, almost lazy grace that made violence look like choreography, his knives catching the light as they spun between his fingers. you couldn't look away even if you wanted to. which you didn't. you never wanted to look away from him.
the warehouse reeked of rust and old blood, but you barely noticed anymore. you were by his side for two years now—ever since that night he found you trying to rob the same jewelry store he was burning down. he tilted his head at you with those fox-like eyes, lips curving into something that wasn't quite a smile, and said, "cute. you want to try something that actually matters?"
your life belonged to him ever since.
you said yes without thinking. without even hesitating, really, because what else were you going to do? go back to your shitty apartment with the broken heater and the landlord who kept "forgetting" to fix things? go back to stealing just enough to survive, always looking over your shoulder, always one mistake away from getting caught? he was offering you something. purpose, maybe. or at least a reason to wake up in the morning that wasn't just spite and survival instinct.
you didn't expect to fall in love with him.
that part snuck up on you slowly, then all at once. first it was admiration—the way he planned everything three steps ahead, the way he never seemed rattled even when things went wrong. then it was fascination—the contrast between his delicate features and the absolute brutality he was capable of, the way he hummed cheerfully while cleaning blood off his knives. and then somewhere along the way it became this. this aching, desperate, all-consuming thing that lived in your chest and made it hard to breathe when he looked at you for too long.
you memorised his coffee order (iced americano, extra shot, barely any water because he was a psychopath apparently), the way he liked his knives arranged (smallest to largest, always within arm's reach), the exact angle his mouth curved when he was genuinely amused versus when he was pretending. you knew he tapped his fingers against his thigh when he was thinking, that he rolled his shoulders back exactly twice before a fight, that he had a tiny scar behind his left ear that you only saw once when his hair was wet.
it was embarrassing how much you noticed. how much you cared.
and the worst part? he absolutely knew. had to know. because you weren't subtle, not even a little bit. you volunteered for every job he mentioned, stayed up late sharpening his weapons even though your hands cramped, laughed too loud at things that weren't that funny just because he was the one saying them. you were obvious and desperate and so fucking transparent it hurt.
he never said anything about it though. never acknowledged the way you looked at him, never called you out on the fact that you basically reorganised your entire existence around him. he just let you orbit him like some pathetic satellite, close enough to be useful but never close enough to actually touch.
tonight started like any other night. you got back from a job—something small, just roughing up some hero-wannabe who was getting too close to one of sunoo's operations—and you were still riding the adrenaline high. your knuckles were scraped, your shirt had someone else's blood on it, and you felt alive in a way you never did doing anything else. sunoo had that effect. he made even the violent things feel like they mattered, like you were part of something bigger.
you found him in the main area of the warehouse, surrounded by his collection. that's what you called it in your head—his collection. knives of every size and style, some plain and practical, others ornate and clearly expensive. he was meticulous about maintaining them, spending hours with whetstones and oil, handling each blade like it was precious. like it was loved.
you wondered sometimes what it would feel like to be handled like that. with care. with attention. with those elegant fingers tracing over every detail like it mattered.
god, you needed help.
"you're back early," he said without looking up from the blade he was cleaning. the silk cloth in his hand was already stained red—whether from today or yesterday or last week, you couldn't tell. "did he give you trouble?"
"no. he folded pretty quick." you dropped your jacket on the back of a chair, trying not to wince at the bruise forming on your ribs. it was nothing serious. you had worse. "threatened to call in backup though. might want to move up the timeline on the next phase."
"mm. predictable." he set down the knife he was working on, finally glancing up at you. his gaze swept over you quickly, cataloguing injuries with the efficiency of someone who did this a thousand times. "you're hurt."
"it's nothing."
"i didn't ask if it was nothing. i said you're hurt." he stood then, moving toward you with that fluid grace that made your mouth go dry. "sit."
you sat. because you always did what he told you to do, because you were completely gone for him and had zero self-respect apparently.
he pulled out the first aid kit—the actual one, not the piece of shit drugstore version you kept in your bag—and started cleaning the scrapes on your knuckles. his touch was gentle, almost tender, and it made your chest ache in a way that had nothing to do with the bruised ribs. this was the worst part. when he acted like he cared, like you were more than just a useful tool. it made you hope for things you had no business hoping for.
"you need to stop leading with your right," he murmured, wrapping gauze around your knuckles with practiced ease. "you're too obvious. anyone paying attention would see it coming."
"noted." your voice came out rougher than intended. he was so close, close enough that you could smell his cologne, could count his eyelashes if you wanted to. could see the way his lips parted slightly when he concentrated. "i'll work on it."
"you better. i don't need my best enforcer getting sloppy." he finished with your hands and moved on to checking your ribs, fingers pressing carefully against the bruised area. you hissed at the contact and he made this sympathetic sound that absolutely destroyed you. "not broken. you'll be fine in a few days."
"i'm always fine."
"because i take care of you." he looked up then, meeting your eyes, and there was something in his expression you couldn't read. something that made your stomach flip. "someone has to."
you wanted to ask what he meant by that. wanted to ask if he felt even a fraction of what you felt, if he ever thought about you the way you thought about him, if he ever lay awake at night replaying conversations and analysing every word for hidden meaning. but you couldn't. because if he said no, if he confirmed what you already knew—that this was one-sided and pathetic and you were just setting yourself up for heartbreak—you'd shatter into so many pieces you'd never find them all.
so instead you just said, "thanks."
he smiled at that. small and private, like you said something amusing. "you're welcome, sweetheart."
and there it was. that stupid pet name that made your entire nervous system short-circuit every single time. he used it so casually, like it didn't mean anything, like he didn't know it made you want to do something insane like grab him and kiss him until neither of you could breathe.
he packed up the first aid kit and went back to his knives, settling into his chair like nothing happened. like he didn't just touch you with those careful hands and call you sweetheart and make you fall even more impossibly in love with him.
you moved to the other side of the table, pulling out the whetstone and selecting one of his knives to sharpen. it was something to do with your hands, something to focus on that wasn't the way your heart was still racing or the phantom feeling of his fingers against your skin. you fell into the familiar rhythm—the slide of the blade against stone, the steady pressure, the high-pitched ring of metal being honed to a perfect edge.
this was safe. this was manageable. you could handle sitting across from him, sharing space, existing in his orbit as long as you had something to concentrate on. as long as you didn't think too hard about how domestic this felt, how right, like you were two halves of something that fit together perfectly.
you were at it for maybe twenty minutes when you felt his eyes on you. that prickling awareness that came from being watched, the weight of his attention making your hands want to shake even though you kept them steady through sheer force of will.
"you're staring again," he said without looking up, and there was this amused lilt to his voice that made your stomach flip. he knew. he always knew when you were looking, when your thoughts went somewhere they shouldn't, when your breath caught because he moved too close or smiled that specific way that made you want to do something stupid.
"sorry," you mumbled, forcing your eyes away, focusing instead on the knife in your hands. you were sharpening them for the past hour, hands steady even though your pulse wasn't. even though being this close to him made your skin feel too tight, made every nerve ending hyperaware of the space between your bodies.
he laughed. it was soft, almost fond, which was worse somehow. "no you're not."
and he was right. you weren't sorry. you'd never be sorry for looking at him, for memorising the curve of his smile, the way his eyes crinkled when he was genuinely amused versus when he was about to kill someone. you catalogued every detail of him like your life depended on it. maybe it did.
the sound of his footsteps made you tense before you felt his presence behind you, close enough that you could smell his cologne—something expensive and sharp that made your head spin. his hand came down on the table beside yours, fingers splayed, and you could see the old scars across his knuckles, the elegant length of his fingers. he was so close. too close. not close enough.
"we have a job tomorrow," he said, voice low and right by your ear. your hands stilled on the whetstone, breath catching. "the heroes are sending their best. should be fun."
fun. he called it fun. you called it watching him dance through combat like he was untouchable, like nothing in the world could hurt him, while your heart tried to claw its way out of your chest because what if this was the time something went wrong? what if—
"you're thinking too loud," sunoo murmured, and then his fingers were under your chin, tilting your face up to meet his eyes. they were so dark, pupils blown wide in the dim light, and there was something in his expression you couldn't read. something that made your stomach drop and soar at the same time. "i'm not going anywhere, sweetheart. i've told you this."
the pet name made heat crawl up your neck. he used it sometimes, always with this teasing edge that made you want to combust on the spot. you knew he didn't mean it the way you wanted him to mean it. knew he saw you as useful, as entertaining maybe, but not—
his thumb brushed across your bottom lip and your brain short-circuited.
"you know what i like about you?" he asked, conversational, like he wasn't currently making your entire nervous system malfunction. like his touch wasn't burning itself into your skin in a way you'd never recover from. "you're so easy to read. every thought shows on your face."
oh god. if he could read your thoughts then he knew—he knew about the embarrassing dreams, the way you watched him constantly, the fact that you'd burn the entire world down if he asked you to. the fact that you were so stupidly, desperately, pathetically in love with him it physically hurt sometimes.
you tried to pull away but his grip tightened, not painful but firm, keeping you exactly where he wanted you. "i didn't say you could move."
your heart was hammering so hard you were sure he could hear it. "sunoo—"
"shh." his thumb pressed against your lips, silencing you, and his smile was sharp enough to cut. "you're always so obedient. it's almost boring."
that stung. you knew you were boring compared to him, knew you were just—just there, useful for sharpening his knives and handling the boring logistics and worshipping the ground he walked on like some kind of devoted dog. but hearing him say it made something crack in your chest.
you bit down on his thumb. not hard enough to break skin but enough to surprise him, to show some kind of spine even though your hands were shaking. his eyes widened fractionally before something dangerous slid across his features, something that made every survival instinct scream at you to run.
you didn't run. you never ran from him.
"there she is," he breathed, and he sounded almost delighted. his hand moved from your chin to your throat, not squeezing, just resting there, and you could feel your pulse jumping against his palm. "i was wondering when you'd stop being so scared of me."
"i'm not scared of you," you managed, voice rough. it was true. you weren't scared of him. you were scared of how much you wanted him, how you'd let him ruin you completely and thank him for it, how there wasn't a version of your future that didn't have him in it.
"liar," he said, but he was smiling now, really smiling, and it made him look younger. softer. like maybe underneath the villain there was still some part of the boy he must have been before. "you're terrified. but not of me hurting you."
his fingers flexed against your throat and you stopped breathing.
"you're scared i don't want you back."
the world tilted. your ears were ringing. had he just—did he mean—
"i—" you couldn't form words. your brain had completely shut down, every thought scattering like startled birds. "what?"
sunoo leaned in closer, so close his breath ghosted across your lips, and his eyes were so dark, so intense it felt like falling. "you think i don't notice? the way you watch me, the way your breathing changes when i get close, the way you'd do anything i asked without question?"
his voice dropped lower, almost a purr. "you think i don't know you're completely obsessed with me?"
you wanted to deny it. wanted to salvage some scrap of dignity. but what was the point? he was right. he was always right about you.
"and what if i am?" you whispered, because fuck it. fuck pride, fuck self-preservation. you were already his in every way that mattered.
his smile turned wicked. "then you should know something." his thumb traced your jawline, gentle in a way that made your chest ache. "tomorrow, during the fight. one of them is going to get lucky. you're going to see something that might scare you."
your blood went cold. "what do you mean?"
"you'll see." he pulled back slightly, expression unreadable. "just remember—i told you i'm not going anywhere."
"sunoo, if you're in danger—"
"i'm not the one in danger, sweetheart. i never am." there was something strange in his voice now, something almost vulnerable. "the heroes are. they just don't know it yet."
he pressed a kiss to your forehead and pulled away completely, leaving you frozen at the table, heart in pieces, mind racing.
tomorrow. something was going to happen tomorrow. something that would scare you. but you'd be there anyway, because where else would you be except at his side, watching him tear through heroes like they were nothing, bleeding devotion from every pore?
you were so fucked.
the abandoned district was perfect for what sunoo had planned. empty warehouses stretched out in every direction, windows shattered and walls tagged with graffiti, the typical place heroes loved to use for their dramatic confrontations. you perched on a rusted fire escape three stories up, exactly where sunoo told you to wait, and tried to keep your breathing steady.
you hated this part. the waiting. the watching. being stuck on the sidelines when you were perfectly capable of fighting alongside him.
it was always like this. sunoo never let you join the actual fights, not the important ones anyway. he'd let you handle the small stuff—roughing up informants, dealing with low-level heroes, the grunt work that kept his operations running. and you were good at it. you'd proven yourself over and over, taken down targets efficiently and without complications. but the moment things got serious, the moment real danger showed up, he stuck you somewhere safe and told you to watch.
it drove you insane. made you feel useless, like some helpless thing that needed protecting instead of the competent fighter you'd worked so hard to become. you'd asked him about it once and he'd just given you this soft and unreadable look and said, "humour me."
so here you were again, benched, watching him stand in the centre of the street below with his hands in his pockets, looking like he was waiting for a bus instead of an ambush.
"relax," sunoo called up to you, and you could hear the smile in his voice even from this distance. "you're so tense i can feel it from here."
"maybe because there's supposed to be five of them," you shot back, fingers gripping the railing hard enough to hurt. "and you won't let me help."
"you are helping. you're watching." he pulled out one of his knives—the small one, the one he used for warmups—and examined it in the dim streetlight. "making sure no one tries to run. very important job."
"sunoo—"
"we've talked about this, sweetheart." his voice was still light but there was an edge to it now, that tone that meant the discussion was over. "you stay up there where it's safe. this is non-negotiable."
you wanted to argue. wanted to climb down there and prove you could handle yourself, that you didn't need to be protected like some fragile thing. but you knew that tone. knew it meant he'd already made up his mind and nothing you said would change it.
it didn't make sense anyway. sunoo was invincible—literally, actually invincible. you'd watched heroes land hits that should have shattered bone and he just shrugged them off like they were nothing. watched him take knife wounds and gunshots and falls that would kill anyone else, and he'd just stand back up without a scratch. he'd never even bled in front of you, not once in two years. his superpower made him untouchable in a way that should have meant he worried about himself, not you.
but he did worry. kept you away from danger with an almost obsessive focus, like the thought of you getting hurt was worse than anything the heroes could do to him.
you were about to tell him exactly how annoying that was when you felt it—the shift in the air that meant they were here. heroes. you'd gotten good at sensing them over the past two years, the way they moved with that self-righteous confidence, like the world owed them something for existing.
they came from three directions at once. the one in front was taehyun, some rising star with enhanced strength who'd been making headlines for taking down minor villains. flanking him were two others you didn't recognise—a girl with electricity crackling between her fingers and a guy who looked like he could bench press a car. the last two dropped down from the rooftops behind sunoo, cutting off his escape routes.
classic hero formation. surround and overwhelm.
sunoo just laughed.
"taehyun, right?" he said, spinning the knife between his fingers in that casual way that made your stomach flip even now, even in the middle of this. "i've heard about you. something about justice and protecting the innocent?" he tilted his head, fox-like eyes glinting with amusement. "boring."
"kim sunoo," taehyun said, and his voice had that hero quality—all noble and dramatic. "you're under arrest for—"
"yeah, yeah, crimes against humanity, murder, blah blah." sunoo waved his free hand dismissively. "can we skip the speech? i have plans later."
the electricity girl didn't wait for permission. she lunged forward, hands crackling with power, and you stopped breathing because she was fast, faster than you expected, and her fingers were reaching for sunoo's throat and—
he moved.
it wasn't even a dodge, really. more like he just wasn't there anymore, sliding to the side with that liquid grace that made violence look like dancing. his knife flashed once, twice, and suddenly electricity girl was stumbling back with shallow cuts across her arms, blood blooming bright against her costume.
"first blood," sunoo said cheerfully. "anyone else want to try?"
they all moved at once.
you'd seen sunoo fight before. watched him take down heroes and villains and anyone stupid enough to get in his way. but it never stopped being mesmerising, the way he moved through combat like he was performing, like every strike was choreographed for maximum effect. his knives caught the streetlight as they spun, as he ducked under the strongman's punch and came up slashing, as he used taehyun's own momentum against him to send him crashing into a wall.
he was playing with them. you could tell by the smile on his face, the way he hummed under his breath between strikes. this wasn't a fight to him, more likev entertainment.
one of the heroes from the rooftop—a speedster with silver hair who moved almost too fast to track—managed to get behind sunoo and land a solid kick to his spine. you heard the impact from three stories up, heard the way it should have done damage, but sunoo just turned around slowly, rolling his shoulders back twice—that pre-fight tell you'd memorised—and smiled. "nice hit."
not a scratch, not even a bruise forming all thanks to his invincibility. it was like the hit never happened.
the speedster went for another strike and sunoo met him halfway, knife finding the gap in his defences like he'd known exactly where it would be. like he'd planned for it. blood sprayed and the speedster went down hard, clutching his leg.
taehyun roared something about protecting his team and charged again, enhanced strength making the ground crack under his feet. his fist connected with sunoo's jaw in a hit that should have broken bones, should have knocked him unconscious, should have mattered.
sunoo's head snapped to the side from the impact.
and then he straightened up and grinned, completely unharmed, looking absolutely delighted.
"my turn," he said.
what happened next was terrifying in how easy he made it look. sunoo moved through them like they were nothing, knives finding soft spots and weak points with surgical precision. the strongman went down with a knife in his shoulder. electricity girl tried to taser him and he let the electricity hit him full force, let it crawl across his skin in a way that should have stopped his heart, and just caught her wrist mid-attack, twisted, sent her crashing into the speedster who was trying to get back up.
taehyun lasted the longest, his enhanced strength letting him trade blows with sunoo in a way that would have been impressive if it made any difference. but even he couldn't do anything that stuck. every hit that connected—and there were several, hard enough that you felt them in your own bones—sunoo just absorbed like they were gentle taps.
you watched taehyun land a hit to sunoo's ribs that cracked the concrete behind him. watched him get thrown into a wall hard enough to leave an impact crater. watched electricity crawl across his entire body in a sustained attack that made the streetlights flicker.
and sunoo just kept going.
he fought the way he did everything else—with casual, terrifying ease, like the concept of being hurt didn't apply to him.
because it didn't. nothing could hurt him. that was his power, his gift, the thing that made him untouchable and terrifying and invincible.
"impossible," taehyun gasped, on his knees now, one arm hanging useless. "nothing works. nothing even slows you down."
"mm. perceptive." sunoo crouched in front of him, knife spinning lazily between his fingers. "you know what your problem is? you keep trying to hurt me. but you can't." he leaned in closer, voice dropping to something almost intimate. "no one can. i'm invincible, hero. completely and utterly untouchable."
"everyone has a weakness," electricity girl spat from where she was slumped against the wall. "everyone can be hurt by something."
sunoo's expression shifted. something flickered across his face—dangerous and possessive and real in a way that made your breath catch. "mm. true."
he stood, brushing imaginary dust off his jacket. there wasn't a mark on him. not a scratch, not a bruise, nothing to indicate he'd just fought five enhanced heroes. "but my weakness isn't here. and even if it was, you'd never reach it."
he stepped over taehyun's prone form and walked away, hands in his pockets, humming that same melody from earlier. like he'd just finished a light workout instead of taking down five enhanced heroes.
you were down the fire escape before you consciously decided to move, feet hitting the ground and carrying you toward him. he caught you easily when you crashed into his chest, arms coming around you, and you hated how good it felt. how safe.
"told you," he murmured into your hair. "nothing to worry about."
you pulled back just enough to look at him, hands fisting in his jacket. "you let him hit you in the ribs. you let the electricity girl taser you for like ten straight seconds."
"had to make it interesting." his fingers came up to cup your face, thumb brushing across your cheekbone. "can't just dodge everything. that would be boring."
"you're insane."
"and you're beautiful when you're worried about me." his smile was softer now, private, meant just for you. "even though you know nothing can hurt me. isn't that interesting?"
you didn't know what to say to that. didn't know how to explain that knowing he was invincible and watching him take hits were two different things. that your heart still stopped every time even though your brain knew he was fine.
"come on," he said, taking your hand. "let's go home."
the walk back to the warehouse was quiet. sunoo kept his fingers laced with yours, thumb stroking absent patterns against your skin, and you tried not to think about how natural it felt. how right.
"you know why i don't let you fight with me," he said eventually, and it wasn't a question.
"because you're overprotective and slightly unhinged?"
he laughed, soft and genuine. "well, yes. but also because you can get hurt. you don't have invincibility. you're human and fragile and one lucky hit could—" his fingers tightened around yours. "i can't risk that."
"i can handle myself."
"i know you can." he pulled you closer as you walked, until your shoulders brushed. "i've seen you fight. you're good. really good. but good doesn't matter when you're going up against enhanced heroes who could kill you by accident. and i—" he stopped walking, turned to face you fully. "i can't watch you get hurt. i won't."
there was something raw in his voice. something that made your chest ache.
"nothing can hurt me," he continued, quieter now. "i've tested it. knives, bullets, fire, electricity, falls from buildings, poison, everything. i'm completely invincible. but that doesn't mean i don't understand pain." his hand came up to cup your face, thumb tracing your bottom lip. "i just experience it differently now. through you."
your breath caught. "sunoo—"
"so humuor me," he murmured. "stay safe. stay where i put you. let me keep you away from things that could hurt you. because that's the only thing that actually scares me anymore."
you didn't know what to say. didn't know how to process the fact that he'd just admitted you were his weakness, his only weakness, the one thing that could touch him in a world where nothing else could.
"okay," you whispered, and his smile was devastating.
"good girl."
***
the warehouse was exactly as you'd left it—knives still spread across the table, first aid kit still out from earlier even though you both knew he'd never need it. sunoo headed straight for his chair and started pulling out his weapons, laying them on the silk cloth with careful precision. they were all dirty. blood and god knows what else staining the metal.
you grabbed the cleaning supplies without being asked and settled into the chair across from him, reaching for the first knife. it was automatic now, this routine. he fought, you cleaned. he destroyed, you maintained. two halves of something that worked.
"not that one," sunoo said, plucking the blade from your fingers. "start with the small ones. work your way up."
you rolled your eyes but switched knives, selecting one of his favorites—a thin stiletto with a pearl handle. your hands were steadier than they should be as you wiped away the blood, as you checked the edge for damage. muscle memory from hundreds of nights just like this one.
except tonight was different. tonight felt charged somehow, the air between you thick with something unspoken. maybe it was what he'd said during the walk back. maybe it was the way he kept looking at you, dark eyes tracking every movement.
maybe it was the fact that you were aware now. aware of every breath, every small shift. the way his knee was almost touching yours under the table. the way his fingers moved over his knives with the same careful attention he'd touched you with earlier.
"you're holding it wrong," he said after a few minutes, and then he was standing, moving around the table, and your mouth went dry because he was right there, pressed against your back, his hand covering yours on the knife.
"i'm holding it the same way i always do," you managed, but your voice came out breathless and you wanted to die.
"mm. and you've always done it wrong." his fingers adjusted your grip, tilting the blade at a different angle. his hand was cold against your wrist, long fingers wrapping around easily, and you could feel his breath against your neck. "like this. see the difference?"
you didn't see anything. couldn't see anything past the fact that he was touching you, that his chest was pressed against your shoulders, that if you tilted your head back even slightly it would rest against his collarbone.
"better," he murmured, and his thumb stroked once across your pulse point before he let go and stepped back.
you forced yourself to focus on the knife, on cleaning the blood from the blade with hands that shook slightly. he settled back into his chair and picked up another weapon, and you tried not to notice the way he watched you. the weight of his attention making your skin feel too tight.
the silence stretched between you like a living thing.
"you're being quiet," he said eventually.
"just thinking."
"about?"
about how you just told five heroes i'm your weakness. about how you keep me away from danger like i'm something precious. about how you said you experience pain through me now. about how i want to touch you so badly it physically hurts. about how i'd let you ruin me and thank you for it.
"stuff," you said instead.
he laughed, soft and low, and it slid down your spine like honey. "liar."
you looked up and found him already watching you, and there was something in his expression that made your breath catch. something hungry and knowing. like he could see straight through you to all the desperate, pathetic thoughts you were trying so hard to hide.
"i'm going to kiss you," he said, casual as discussing the weather. "eventually. when you're ready."
your brain short-circuited. the knife clattered against the table and you barely noticed. "what?"
"you heard me." he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, looking absolutely delighted by your reaction. "but not yet. you're not ready yet."
"i'm not—" you couldn't even finish the sentence. couldn't form coherent thoughts past the sudden, overwhelming certainty that you were extremely ready. had been ready for approximately two years.
"you think you are," he said, reading your mind again somehow. "but i want you to understand what it means first."
"understand what?"
"that if i kiss you, i'm keeping you." his eyes were so dark, pinning you in place. "that you're mine. that i don't share and i don't let go." he tilted his head, studying you. "that the only person in the world who matters to me is the same person i'd burn the world down for."
the air felt too thick. you couldn't breathe. couldn't think past the absolute certainty in his voice, the way he said it like it was fact, like there was no other possible outcome.
"so take your time," he continued, picking up another knife. "figure out if that's what you want. because once we start this, sweetheart, there's no going back."
you stared at him. at this beautiful, terrifying, impossible man who'd just offered you everything you'd ever wanted and told you to think about it. like you hadn't already decided. like you weren't already his in every way that mattered.
but you didn't say that. instead you picked up your knife and went back to cleaning, hands somehow steady despite the way your heart was trying to punch through your ribs.
you could feel him smiling without looking up.
the rest of the night passed in that same charged silence, every small movement loaded with meaning. his fingers brushing yours when he handed you a new blade. the way his knee pressed against yours under the table. the absolute suffocating awareness of his presence, his attention, his want.
by the time you finished cleaning the last knife, you were wound so tight you thought you might shatter. sunoo stood and stretched, shirt riding up just enough to show a sliver of skin, and you looked away before you did something stupid like stare.
"go home," he said softly. "get some sleep. we'll talk more tomorrow."
you wanted to argue. wanted to stay. wanted to grab him and kiss him and tell him you didn't need time to think, that you'd already chosen him the moment he offered you something that mattered.
but you just nodded and gathered your things, because he was right. you needed to think. needed to process what he'd said, what it all meant.
the next morning, sunoo acted like nothing happened.
you showed up at the warehouse around noon, earlier than usual because you'd barely slept, mind racing with everything he'd said the night before, everything he'd implied with those careful touches and devastating words.
you found him at the table organising his knife collection like it was just another day, and he looked up when you walked in with that same casual smile he always wore, the one that gave nothing away. "coffee's on the counter. still hot."
he didn’t mention the fight, or the charged silence while cleaning knives, to the way he'd touched you like you were precious, to the fact that he'd basically told you he was in love with you and then sent you home to think about it. he was just normal. perfectly, maddeningly normal, like the night before had never happened at all.
"thanks," you said slowly, watching his face for any sign of something, anything that would indicate he remembered what he'd said, but his expression was perfectly neutral. friendly in that distant way that made your chest ache with something sharp and painful.
he went back to his knives without another word and you grabbed the coffee, made exactly how you liked it because of course he knew, because he paid attention to every single detail about you even when he pretended not to care.
you settled into your usual chair and the silence felt different now, heavier somehow, weighted with all the things he'd said and apparently didn't mean. you kept waiting for him to say something, to reference what had happened, to look at you the way he had last night like you were the only thing in the world that mattered. but he didn't. he just hummed under his breath while he polished his blades and acted like you were exactly what you'd always been. his sidekick. his weapon cleaner. his nothing.
it made you want to scream.
"we have a job tonight," he said eventually, still not looking at you, still focused on the knife in his hands like it was more interesting than you could ever be. "information gathering. should be simple."
"okay."
"you'll handle the south entrance. i'll take north. in and out, no engagement."
"sure."
he finally glanced up and for just a second, barely a heartbeat, you thought you saw something flicker in his expression. something soft and vulnerable that made hope bloom stupidly in your chest. but then it was gone and he was back to business, back to treating you like an employee instead of someone he'd held close and whispered promises to.
"good. be ready by eight."
you wanted to ask what the fuck last night was about. wanted to demand he explain why he could say things like i've been yours since the moment i found you and then act like you were just another person on his payroll. wanted to grab him by the shoulders and make him look at you properly, make him acknowledge what had happened between you. but you didn't. because maybe you'd imagined it all. maybe you'd read too much into his words, into the tension that had felt so real, into everything. maybe this was just how he was and you were pathetic for thinking it meant something more.
so you just nodded and drank your coffee and pretended your heart wasn't cracking into smaller and smaller pieces with every second of his indifference.
it became a pattern after that, this torture of back and forth that made you feel like you were losing your mind. sunoo would have these moments, these brief and devastating instances where he'd touch you like you were precious, where he'd say things that made your entire world tilt sideways, where he'd look at you like you were the answer to every question he'd never asked. and then the next day he'd be distant and professional again. like the intimacy had never happened at all, like you'd dreamt the whole thing.
three days after the knife-cleaning incident, you were inventorying supplies in the back room, trying to focus on the mundane task and not think about him, when you felt eyes on you. you knew without looking that it was sunoo, could feel the weight of his attention like a physical touch, and you let him watch for a full minute before you finally turned around.
"can i help you?" you asked, trying to sound normal and failing miserably.
he pushed off the doorframe where he'd been leaning and walked toward you, slow and deliberate, each step measured like he was stalking prey. you backed up instinctively until you hit the shelves and then he was right there, close enough that you could smell his cologne and feel the heat radiating off his body.
"you've been quiet lately."
"i'm always quiet," you managed, even though your heart was trying to punch through your ribs.
"no. you're always thinking. there's a difference." his hand came up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and his fingers lingered against your neck, thumb pressing gently against your pulse point like he was counting your heartbeats. "what's going on in that head of yours?"
you. always you. the way you touch me like this and then don't talk to me for days. the way i can't tell if i'm losing my mind or if you actually feel something for me. the way you're driving me insane with this hot and cold routine and i don't know how much more i can take.
"nothing important," you said instead, because you were a coward who couldn't handle the possibility of rejection.
his eyes searched yours for a long moment, dark and intense and unreadable in a way that made you want to scream with frustration. then he leaned in close enough that his lips brushed against your ear and his breath was hot on your skin. "liar."
and then he walked away like he hadn't just touched you in a way that made your knees weak, like he hadn't just proven once again that he knew exactly what he was doing to you.
the next two days he communicated exclusively through text messages about jobs, brief and professional, like you were just another contact in his phone instead of someone he'd had pressed against a shelf with his hand on your throat.
a week later you made the mistake of wearing a new shirt, nothing special really, just something that actually fit properly instead of the oversized hoodies you usually hid in. sunoo took one look at you when you walked into the warehouse and went completely still, his entire body tensing in a way that made your breath catch.
"what?" you asked, suddenly self-conscious under the weight of his stare, resisting the urge to cross your arms over your chest.
"nothing." but his eyes were tracking over you slowly, taking in every detail in a way that made heat crawl up your neck and spread across your cheeks. "you look nice."
"it's just a shirt," you said, aiming for dismissive and landing somewhere closer to flustered.
"mm." he crossed the room and then his hand was settling on your waist like it belonged there. just resting there with his thumb stroking against your hip bone through the fabric in a way that made it impossible to think. "suits you."
your breath caught in your throat and his hand was so warm, his touch burning through the thin material of the shirt, and he was close, so close that you could see the exact shade of his eyes and count his eyelashes and smell the mint from whatever he'd been drinking. your brain went completely offline, every thought scattering like startled birds, and all you could focus on was the point of contact where his hand met your body.
"wear it more often," he murmured, voice low and intimate, and then he let go and walked away like he hadn't just set your entire body on fire with a single touch.
that night he sent you on a solo job and didn't speak to you until you returned hours later, and by then he was back to being distant and professional like the moment in the warehouse had never happened.
it was torture, actual psychological torture, this constant back and forth that left you reeling. you didn't know which version was real anymore, the sunoo who touched you like you were precious and looked at you like you hung the stars, or the sunoo who acted like you were just another piece on his chessboard, useful but ultimately replaceable.
you were starting to think maybe they were both real, that maybe he did care about you but didn't know how to show it consistently, or maybe his feelings were just as fucked up and complicated as yours and he was struggling with them the same way you were.
or maybe, and this was the thought that kept you up at night staring at your ceiling, maybe he just liked having power over you. liked knowing you were obsessed with him, liked watching you orbit around him desperately waiting for scraps of affection, liked the control he had over your emotions.
you didn't know which option was worse.
it was three weeks of this torture when everything fell apart.
you were supposed to be gathering intel on a hero safehouse, simple reconnaissance that should have been easy. in and out, no engagement as always (sunoo had been very clear about that part). but when you got to the location you found him already in the middle of a fight with three heroes instead of the one target you'd been expecting.
one of them was heeseung, some hotshot hero with energy manipulation who'd been climbing the ranks fast and making a name for himself taking down villains. he was good, really good, moving with a precision that spoke of serious training, and he'd brought backup that was equally competent.
sunoo was handling them fine because of course he was, nothing could hurt him after all, but they were coordinated enough to be annoying. they were keeping him busy, working together to contain him, and you could see what they were doing even from your hidden vantage point. they were stalling, buying time, waiting for more backup to arrive and overwhelm him with numbers.
you should have stayed hidden like sunoo had told you to, should have trusted that he had everything under control, that he could handle three heroes without breaking a sweat. but then you saw heeseung pull out some kind of device, something that glowed with concentrated energy that looked dangerous even from a distance, and he was pointing it at sunoo's back while sunoo was occupied with the other two heroes.
your body moved before your brain could fully process what you were doing, before you could think about consequences or strategy or the fact that sunoo specifically told you to stay out of it.
you dropped from your hiding spot and tackled heeseung, momentum and surprise on your side, sending the device skittering across the pavement. his eyes widened in surprise before narrowing with recognition as he recovered quickly.
"the sidekick," he said, already shifting into a fighting stance. "sunoo's little pet."
"fuck you," you snarled, already moving because you'd committed now and there was no backing out, no retreat.
heeseung was faster than you'd expected, stronger too, his energy manipulation letting him create shields and weapons simultaneously in ways that made him incredibly difficult to pin down. but you were good too, sunoo had been right about that even if he never let you prove it in any way that mattered. you'd trained for this, spent hours preparing for exactly this kind of fight, and you held your own against him.
at least until one of the other heroes broke away from sunoo and joined heeseung against you. then you were outnumbered and outmatched, fighting two enhanced heroes at once, and you felt the exact moment things shifted from manageable to genuinely dangerous. you heard the crackle of energy building, felt the heat of heeseung's power gathering in the air around you, and you knew with sudden terrible certainty that you were about to take a hit you might not recover from.
your eyes found sunoo across the chaos without meaning to, some instinct making you seek him out. he was closer now, had taken down one of the other heroes and was moving in your direction, and his eyes met yours across the space between you. they were dark and unreadable and intense in a way that made your breath catch even now, even in the middle of this disaster.
then heeseung's partner appeared next to sunoo, the hero with enhanced speed that you'd forgotten about in the chaos.
"got something you want?" he called out, gesturing at you with one hand while holding up the device you'd knocked away from heeseung with the other. "then come get it!"
sunoo's eyes moved between you and the device and you could see the calculation happening in real time, could see him weighing options and running through scenarios, could see the exact moment he made his choice.
he went for the device.
turned away from you, from the fact that you were surrounded and outmatched and about to get seriously hurt, and went for the fucking weapon instead like it mattered more than you did.
the smirk he threw over his shoulder as he moved, that tiny curve of his lips that usually meant trust me i have a plan, felt like a knife sliding between your ribs and twisting.
heeseung's energy blast caught you in the ribs before you could process what had just happened, before your brain could make sense of sunoo's choice. the pain was blinding, white-hot and all-consuming, spreading through your entire body like fire. you went down hard and your head cracked against the concrete with enough force to make your vision blur at the edges, everything going fuzzy and wrong.
you heard heeseung saying something but the words were muffled, distant, like you were underwater. you felt hands grabbing your arms and hauling you up and you tried to fight, tried to make your body respond, but everything hurt and nothing was working right.
"hey, hey—stop." that was heeseung's voice, much closer now, and he sounded concerned in a way that didn't make sense. "she's actually hurt. we need to—"
"she's a villain," his partner said from somewhere to your left. "we should call it in, get her processed—"
"she's a person," heeseung interrupted, and suddenly his hands were on your face, tilting it up gently, and his expression was genuinely worried in a way that made something crack open in your chest. a hero was worried about you. a hero was checking your injuries with careful hands and looking at you with concern while sunoo, while your partner, the person you would have died for, had just walked away like you didn't matter.
"where's your backup?" heeseung asked, and he sounded almost sorry, like he felt bad for you. "your partner. he should be here, he should be helping you—"
"he left," you said, and your voice came out broken and shattered, barely recognisable. "he left me."
heeseung's expression shifted to something like anger mixed with disbelief. "what?"
"got what he wanted." you tried to laugh but it turned into a cough that brought the taste of blood to your mouth. "the device was more important than me."
"that's—" heeseung looked genuinely furious now, more angry on your behalf than you'd seen him during the entire fight. "you jumped in to save him. i saw you. you protected him from the device and he just left you here?"
"yeah," you said, and the word felt hollow and empty, like it was coming from someone else. "he did."
the pity in heeseung's eyes was somehow worse than the physical pain, worse than the cracked ribs and the head injury and the fact that you could barely stand. this hero who was supposed to be your enemy understood that you'd just been abandoned by the person you loved, the person you would have died for, the person who apparently didn't think you were worth choosing.
"i'm sorry," heeseung said quietly, and you could tell he meant it, could hear the genuine sympathy in his voice. "that's not—you deserve better than that."
the laugh that escaped you was bitter and sharp and tasted like blood. "apparently not."
you managed to create an opening then, throwing a smoke bomb you'd been saving for emergencies and using the confusion and heeseung's momentary distraction to run. your ribs screamed with every breath and your head was pounding and your vision kept going fuzzy, but you didn't stop or look back. just ran until your legs finally gave out three blocks away in some abandoned alley.
you'd cracked at least two ribs, maybe three. there was blood in your mouth and dripping down your face from somewhere and your vision kept threatening to go dark at the edges. but you were alive. you'd saved yourself because apparently no one else was going to do it.
the worst part, the absolute worst part that made you want to curl up and sob, was that a hero had shown you more concern in five minutes than sunoo had during that entire fight. he had looked at you like you were a calculated risk he'd decided not to take.
you pulled out your phone with shaking hands that you couldn't quite control and called the one person who might help you. not sunoo though, never him again.
"yeonjun," you gasped when he picked up, barely able to get the words out. "i need a favour."
yeonjun was a former villain who'd gone straight, someone you'd worked with before you met sunoo. he didn't ask questions, didn't demand explanations, just gave you an address and told you to get there however you could manage.
you abandoned your phone in the alley after you hung up because sunoo could track it and you weren't stupid enough to think he wouldn't try to find you eventually. you took only what you could carry in your current state and disappeared into the night, every step agony but necessary.
if sunoo thought a device was more important than you, then he could have it. he could have everything—his knives and his plans and his fucking invincibility and his empty warehouse. you were done.
the safehouse yeonjun set you up in was small and dingy, but it was off the grid and that was all that mattered. he helped you patch up your ribs without asking what happened, just gave you supplies and space and resources and promised not to tell anyone where you were.
you were there for three days when the nightmares started, vivid and terrible and relentless. dreams where you watched sunoo turn away over and over, where you felt heeseung's energy blast hit you again and again, where you died alone in that alley because you weren't important enough to save.
but worse than those were the dreams where heeseung's pitying expression played on repeat, the way he'd looked at you like you were pathetic, like he felt sorry for you. a hero feeling sorry for you because even he could see that sunoo had abandoned you, that you'd been left behind.
you woke up gasping every time, ribs aching with the movement, and you'd remind yourself that you'd made the right choice. that leaving was self-preservation, that staying would have killed you eventually if not physically then emotionally, that you deserved better than someone who would leave you to die.
but it hurt. god, it hurt so much it felt like dying anyway. because despite everything, despite him choosing a weapon over you, despite the mind games and the hot-and-cold behaviour and the way he'd played with your feelings for weeks, you still loved him. you still wanted him. you still missed him with an intensity that felt like it was tearing you apart from the inside.
you were so pathetic. heeseung had been absolutely right to pity you.
but at least you'd had enough self-respect left to leave. at least you could say that. at least you'd chosen yourself when sunoo had made it clear he wouldn't.
you stayed in the safehouse and tried to figure out how to rebuild a life that didn't revolve around kim sunoo, that didn't orbit around him like he was the sun and you were just a planet caught in his gravitational pull.
it felt impossible.
sunoo stared at the empty alley where your phone lay abandoned, screen cracked and battery dying. the tracker he'd embedded in it blinked weakly before going dark and something in his chest went cold in a way he didn't recognise. you were gone. he'd come back for you, of course he'd come back for you, it had been a few minutes, the device was fake anyway, just a test from the heroes to see if he actually cared about his sidekick, and you were just. gone.
the heroes had scattered. you'd disappeared. and sunoo felt something he hadn't felt in years, not since he'd discovered his invincibility and realised nothing in the world could touch him. fear. actual bone-deep terror that made his hands shake and his breath come short because you were his and you were gone and he didn't know if someone had taken you or if you'd left on your own and he wasn't sure which option made him want to burn the world down more.
he tore through the area with increasing desperation, checking every shadow, every hiding spot, every possible place you could have gone. his knives were out and his hands wouldn't stop shaking and the fear was morphing into something darker now, something that tasted like rage and felt like madness
he found the smoke bomb residue first. then the blood, your blood, spattered on the concrete in a pattern that spoke of injury and pain. there were signs of a struggle, of you fighting your way out, of you getting hurt while he was dealing with a fake fucking device that didn't matter, because the only thing that mattered was you and he'd left you and now you were gone.
something in sunoo's chest cracked wide open and what poured out was violence.
the first building went down at dawn. sunoo walked into the heroes' main headquarters and started killing people. anyone who got in his way, anyone who might know where you were, anyone who existed in his path became a target. he was calm about it, almost detached, asking each person the same question before his knives found their throats.
"where is she? where did you take her?"
none of them knew. they were all surprised, confused, trying to fight back against someone they couldn't hurt. it didn't matter. sunoo killed them anyway because maybe the next one would know, maybe the next one would tell him where you were, maybe the next body would bring him closer to finding you.
heeseung found him three buildings later, surrounded by corpses, covered in blood that wasn't his own because blood was never his own, nothing could make him bleed, nothing could hurt him except apparently the gaping absence of you.
"sunoo, what the fuck—" heeseung stopped in the doorway, eyes wide as he took in the destruction.
"where is she?" sunoo's voice was deadly calm. he turned to face heeseung with his knives still dripping. "my sidekick. where did you take her?"
"we didn't take anyone—" heeseung's expression shifted as he processed the scene. "holy shit, what did you do?"
"where. is. she." sunoo started walking toward him and there must have been something in his face, something terrifying, because heeseung actually backed up a step. "i won't ask again."
"i don't know! we let her go after—" heeseung stopped and his expression changed to something like understanding mixed with disgust. "after you left her."
the words hung in the air between them, sharp and accusatory. after you left her. like it was sunoo's fault. like sunoo had abandoned you instead of making a tactical choice that should have taken forty-five seconds and somehow cost him everything.
"i came back," sunoo said quietly, and his voice was empty in a way that made heeseung tense. "i came back and she was gone."
"yeah, well." heeseung's hands crackled with energy, preparing for a fight he had to know he couldn't win. "can you blame her? you chose a device over your own partner. she was hurt, sunoo. cracked ribs, possible concussion, bleeding, and you just walked away like she was nothing."
sunoo moved. he was across the room before heeseung could blink, knife pressed against the hero's throat, and his hands were shaking again but his voice was steady. "don't. don't you dare act like you know anything about what she means to me."
"i know you left her to die," heeseung spat, and there was genuine anger in his voice, genuine disgust. "i know i showed more concern for her in five minutes than you did in that entire fight. she was devastated. she actually thought—she believed you didn't care about her."
something in sunoo's chest twisted violently and the knife bit into heeseung's skin, drawing blood. "the device was a fake. a test. i knew it was a fake. i was calling your bluff, proving it was empty so you couldn't use it as leverage. i was going to come right back for her."
"but you didn't," heeseung said, and his eyes were hard. "you didn't come back in time and she ran. and honestly? she deserves better than someone who would leave her surrounded by enemies just to prove a point."
sunoo's knife sliced deeper and heeseung choked, hands coming up to try and push him away, but sunoo was invincible and furious and utterly past caring about consequences. "she's mine. she's mine and i'm going to find her and i'm going to fix this."
"you really think she's going to take you back after—" heeseung's words cut off as sunoo's blade found his throat properly this time, cutting deep, and blood poured hot over sunoo's hands.
"i'll make her understand," sunoo said to heeseung's dying face. "i'll make her see. she belongs with me. she'll forgive me because she has to, because we're meant to be together, because i'll burn this entire city down before i let her go."
he left heeseung bleeding out on the floor and continued his search, and over the next two weeks sunoo tore apart half the city looking for you. he destroyed three more hero headquarters, killed anyone who got in his way, followed every lead no matter how slim. he didn't sleep, didn't eat, could barely breathe properly because you were out there somewhere thinking he'd abandoned you. thinking he didn't want you. thinking you didn't matter when you were literally the only thing that had ever mattered in his entire life.
he finally found you through yeonjun. he had tracked down the former villain, cornered him in some shitty apartment, and the look on sunoo's face must have been terrifying because yeonjun gave up the address immediately, hands raised in surrender.
"she doesn't want to see you," yeonjun warned, but he was already backing away from whatever he saw in sunoo's expression. "she thinks you abandoned her. she's hurt and angry and she told me if you came looking to tell you to fuck off."
"i don't care," sunoo said, and his voice was hollow. empty. "i'm getting her back."
"sunoo, maybe you should give her space—"
"i've given her two weeks." sunoo was already moving toward the door, toward the address yeonjun had given him, toward you. "i'm not giving her another second."
the safehouse door didn't stand a chance against him. sunoo kicked it open hard enough that the wood splintered and there you were, on your feet immediately with wide eyes and an expression that was half shock, half something else he couldn't read.
you were alive. real and solid and in front of him after two weeks of losing his mind, and sunoo couldn't help it, couldn't stop himself from crossing the room in three strides and pulling you into his arms.
he held you so tight it probably hurt but he couldn't make himself loosen his grip because you were here, you were okay, you were safe and alive and he'd found you. his hands shook where they fisted in your shirt and his face was buried in your hair and he couldn't breathe properly, couldn't think past the overwhelming relief that was making his chest ache.
"you're okay," he breathed against your hair, and his voice cracked on the words. "you're okay, you're here, you're safe, i found you, you're—"
you shoved him away hard enough that he actually stumbled back a step, too surprised to resist, and when he looked at your face you were crying. angry tears were streaming down your cheeks and your expression was furious and hurt and devastating.
"don't fucking touch me," you snarled, and your voice was shaking with rage. "you don't get to touch me. you don't get to just show up here after two weeks and act like everything's fine—"
"i'm sorry," sunoo said, and he could hear the desperation in his own voice. "i'm so sorry, i looked everywhere for you, i tore apart the city trying to find you—"
"sorry?" you laughed and it sounded broken, jagged around the edges. "you're sorry? you left me, sunoo. you looked right at me, you saw that i was surrounded and outmatched and about to get hurt, and you turned around and left."
"it was a test," he said desperately, taking a step toward you even as you backed away. "the device was fake, heeseung was testing to see if i cared about you more than the mission. i knew it was fake so i called the bluff. i was going to come right back for you, it was only going to take a minute—"
"but you didn't come back!" your voice cracked and more tears fell. "you didn't come back and i was hurt and bleeding and a hero showed me more concern than you did. heeseung looked at me with pity, sunoo. actual pity. because even he could see that you'd abandoned me, that you didn't give a shit about me, that i was just—just—"
your voice broke completely and sunoo felt something in his chest shatter because you believed it. you actually believed that you didn't matter to him, that you were disposable, that he could just walk away from you.
"that's not true," he said, and his voice came out rough and desperate. "that's not true, i came back, i swear i came back. a few minutes, that's all it took to dismantle the device and prove it was fake and i turned around and you were gone. i've been losing my mind for two weeks thinking someone took you, thinking you were hurt somewhere and i couldn't find you—"
"so what?" you backed further away from him and your hands were shaking. "you want credit for that? you want me to be grateful that you went on a murder spree after you abandoned me? that doesn't change what happened. that doesn't change the fact that when it mattered, when i actually needed you, you chose wrong."
"i chose strategically!" his voice rose to match yours and he was moving toward you again, unable to stop himself. "i made the smart call, the one that would get us both out safely. how was i supposed to know you'd run before i could come back for you?"
"maybe because you've spent weeks playing mind games with me!" you were yelling now and your face was flushed with anger and hurt.
"you touch me like i matter and then ignore me for days. you tell me i'm yours and then treat me like i'm nothing. you say you'd burn the world down for me and then you literally turned your back on me when i needed you. you've given me nothing consistent except the absolute certainty that i'm not your priority, so yeah, when you walked away, i believed it. i believed that the device mattered more than me. i believed that i was expendable."
sunoo felt like he'd been stabbed, like something vital had been punctured and was bleeding out inside his chest. "you're not expendable. you're everything—"
"liar!" you grabbed something off the table, a glass, and threw it at him. he didn't dodge, didn't even try to, and it shattered against his chest and fell harmlessly to the floor. "you're a liar and i hate you and i want you to leave."
"no." sunoo shook his head and took another step forward. "no, i'm not leaving. not again. never again."
"i don't want you here!" you grabbed something else, a plate this time, and threw it harder. it hit his shoulder and shattered. "i don't want to see you, i don't want to hear your excuses, i don't want—"
you were grabbing things faster now, throwing anything you could reach, and sunoo just stood there and took it. took the mug that hit his chest, the book that caught his jaw, the vase that shattered against his ribs. he didn't dodge or defend himself, just let you express your rage in the only way you could because he deserved it. he deserved all of it and more.
your hand found a knife on the counter and you threw it with actual intent to harm, put real force behind it, and it hit him square in the shoulder and stuck there.
and he bled.
you froze immediately, eyes going wide as blood started soaking through his shirt, as the knife stayed embedded in his shoulder, as actual visible injury appeared on his body for the first time in the two years you'd known him.
"what—" your voice came out shaky and confused. "how did i—you're invincible, you can't—nothing can hurt you—"
sunoo looked down at the knife in his shoulder and the smile that spread across his face was delighted, absolutely manic, his eyes bright with something unhinged and adoring. he pulled the knife out slowly, watching blood drip from the blade, and then he was crossing the room in two strides and grabbing your waist, pulling you flush against him.
"no," he said, and his voice was soft and reverent and slightly crazed. "i'm not invincible, sweetheart. i'm immune to harm from everyone and everything in the world. except one person."
his hand came up to cup your face and his thumb stroked across your cheekbone, smearing a bit of his own blood on your skin, and his smile was soft now, tender in a way that made your breath catch.
"my true soulmate," he murmured, and his eyes were so dark, so intense as they stared into yours. "the other half of my soul. my perfect match. the only person in the entire world who can actually hurt me." his other hand tightened on your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. "you. it's you. it's always been you."
your brain couldn't process this, couldn't make sense of what he was saying. "that's not—no. that's not possible. you've been fighting for years, you've never been hurt, you're completely invincible—"
"to everyone else," he interrupted, and his voice was patient like he was explaining something simple. "to everyone else i'm untouchable. but to my soulmate? to the person i'm meant to be with? i'm completely vulnerable. and i've known since the day i met you. i've known you were my mate since that jewelry store because you bumped into me while running and i felt it. this little spark of sensation that i'd never felt before. you could have hurt me then and you can hurt me now and you're the only one."
"stop," you whispered, but you didn't pull away from him, couldn't make yourself move out of his arms even though you were still so angry. "stop saying things like that."
"it's the truth." his forehead pressed against yours and his eyes slid closed like he was savouring this, savouring your proximity. "i'm obsessed with you. i've been obsessed with you for two years. i think about you constantly. the way you bite your lip when you're nervous, the way you try so hard to hide how you feel about me, the way you look at me like i hung the stars even when i know i don't deserve it. i kept you away from fights because i knew if you got seriously hurt i'd lose my mind. i pushed you away emotionally because i was terrified of what it meant that you could hurt me, that i had this weakness after years of being untouchable."
"you have a really fucked up way of showing you care about someone," you managed, but your voice was weak and your hands had somehow ended up fisted in his bloody shirt.
"i know." his eyes opened and the vulnerability in them made your chest ache. "i know i fucked up. i should have told you from the start. should have explained what you are to me instead of playing games and keeping you at a distance. but i was scared. i've never been vulnerable before. never had someone who could actually hurt me. and then you showed up and suddenly i had this thing in my chest that ached when you weren't around and i didn't know how to handle it."
"so you decided to give me whiplash instead?" you couldn't keep the bitterness out of your voice. "hot and cold, back and forth, never letting me know where i stood?"
"i was trying to protect myself," he admitted quietly. "if i kept you at a distance emotionally then maybe it wouldn't hurt so much that you could hurt me physically. if i didn't let myself care too much then maybe i'd survive it when you eventually figured out you could do better than me and left. but it didn't work. i just made you think i didn't want you when you're all i've ever wanted."
"you left me," you said again, and your voice cracked on the words because that was the core of it, the thing you couldn't get past. "you looked at me and you turned away and you left me there."
"i made a mistake." his hands were shaking where they held you and his voice was wrecked.
"the worst mistake of my life. i thought—i was so sure i'd be right back, so certain i could handle it quickly and come back for you. i didn't think about how it would look from your perspective. didn't consider how it would feel to watch me walk away. i just saw the tactical solution and took it because that's what i always do, but i should have—" his voice broke. "i should have chosen you. fuck the strategy, fuck the heroes, fuck the optics. i should have gone to you first. always you first."
you wanted to stay angry, wanted to hold onto the hurt and use it as armour against the hope trying to bloom in your chest. "this doesn't fix everything."
"i know," he said immediately.
"i'm still furious with you."
"i know."
"you're going to have to work for this. no more games. no more pushing me away. no more making me guess how you feel."
"anything." his voice was fervent, desperate. "anything you want. i'll be so honest it's uncomfortable. i'll tell you every single thought i have about you. i'll stop protecting myself and just—i'll give you everything. i'll prove that you matter more than anything else in my life."
you opened your mouth to respond, to say something about how words were easy and actions were what counted, but he kissed you before you could get the words out. it was rough and desperate and consuming, his hands fisting in your hair and pulling you closer, angling your head exactly how he wanted it. you made a sound, half protest and half something else entirely, and he swallowed it, deepened the kiss, licked into your mouth like he was trying to devour you whole.
you bit his lip hard. hard enough to break skin and taste blood, and he moaned into your mouth like it was the best thing he'd ever felt.
"still mad at me?" he murmured against your lips when you finally broke apart to breathe, and you could feel his smile even though your eyes were still closed.
"furious," you gasped, but your hands were tangled in his shirt and pulling him closer instead of pushing him away, completely betraying your words.
"good." he walked you backward until your back hit the wall and his body pressed fully against yours. "stay mad. yell at me. hurt me. i don't care as long as you're here. as long as i can touch you. anything is better than the last two weeks thinking i'd lost you forever."
"you're insane," you managed, but it came out breathy and weak because his mouth was on your neck now, teeth scraping against your pulse point in a way that made your knees weak.
"for you, yes." his hand slid under your shirt and his fingers splayed across your ribs, right over the bruises that were still fading from heeseung's attack. "i've been going insane for two weeks. tore apart half the city. killed anyone who got in my way. couldn't sleep, couldn't eat, couldn't think about anything except finding you and getting you back and making you understand that you're mine."
your breath caught as his fingers traced over the bruises with devastating gentleness, like he was memorising the exact shape of them. "he hurt you," sunoo said, and his voice had gone cold and dangerous. "heeseung hurt you."
"you killed him already, remember?"
"not slowly enough." his fingers pressed just slightly harder against the bruised ribs and you hissed at the spike of pain. "i should have made it last days. should have made him suffer for every mark he left on your skin. should have made him understand what it means to hurt something that belongs to me."
"sunoo—" you didn't know if you were protesting or encouraging him, didn't know what you wanted except more.
"i'm going to make this up to you," he promised, and when he pulled back to look at you his eyes were dark with intent, pupils blown wide. "i'm going to make you feel so good you forget about the last two weeks. i'm going to touch you until the only thing you can think about is me. i'm going to prove that you're mine and i'm yours and nothing else matters."
"that's not how apologies work," you tried to say, but it came out shaky because his hand was sliding higher under your shirt and his thumb was brushing against the underside of your breast and you couldn't think.
"then tell me to stop." he pulled back just enough to meet your eyes properly, and despite the heat in his gaze there was genuine question there too. "tell me you don't want this and i'll stop. i'll leave. i'll give you space. i'll do whatever you need, even if it kills me."
you looked at him and saw the desperation in his expression, the way his hands trembled slightly where they touched you, the blood still soaking through his shirt from where you'd stabbed him. you thought about the last two weeks of nightmares and pain and missing him so much it physically hurt. thought about how even after everything, even after he'd left you and broken your heart, you still loved him. still wanted him. still felt like a piece of you was missing when he wasn't around.
"i don't want you to stop," you whispered, and your voice came out broken and honest. "i hate you and i want you and i'm so tired of fighting it."
something in his expression shifted, softened and sharpened at the same time, and then he was kissing you again. properly this time, slow and deep and thorough, like he had all the time in the world to learn the taste of you. you kissed back with everything you had, two years of want and frustration and love pouring out.
your hands tugged at his blood-stained shirt until he had to break the kiss to pull it off, and then you could see the wound on his shoulder properly. it was still bleeding sluggishly, the skin around it red and irritated, and you pressed your fingers against it without thinking.
he made a sound low in his throat and his eyes fluttered closed. "does it hurt?" you asked, fascinated despite yourself.
"yes," he breathed, and when his eyes opened again they were glazed with something that looked almost like pleasure. "do it again."
so you pressed harder and watched his face as he reacted. watched his breath catch and his pupils dilate and his hands tighten on your waist hard enough to bruise. there was something intoxicating about it, something that made heat pool low in your stomach. having this kind of power over someone who was otherwise completely invincible. being the only person who could hurt him, the only one who mattered enough to break through his immunity.
"you want to hurt me?" he asked, and his voice dropped to something dangerous and inviting, something that made heat pool low in your stomach. "go ahead, sweetheart. take one of my knives and make me bleed. i know you want to."
your breath caught because he was right. you did want to. wanted to see him bleed for you, wanted proof that you had this power over him, that you could affect him the way he'd been affecting you for two years. wanted to make him feel even a fraction of the pain you'd been carrying around.
"you're still angry," he continued, reading you like he always did, like you were his favourite book and he'd memorised every page. "still hurt. so take it out on me. i can handle it. i want you to."
he pulled a knife from his pocket, one of his favourites, the one with the black handle that he always kept razor sharp, and pressed it into your palm. his fingers closed around yours, warm and steady, holding your hand around the weapon. "go on."
you looked at the blade, then at him, at the absolute certainty in his expression. the trust. he was giving you the power to hurt him, offering himself up to the only person in the world who could actually damage him, and telling you to use it. encouraging it even.
your hand was shaking as you brought the knife up to his chest, pressing the tip against his skin just above his heart hard enough to dimple the flesh. "you really want this?"
"i want everything with you." his hand covered yours on the handle, applying gentle pressure until the blade bit into his skin and blood welled up around it, bright red against pale skin. "even the pain. especially the pain, because it means you're touching me. means you're here and real and mine."
you dragged the knife across his chest, not deep but enough to hurt, enough to part skin and draw a thin line of blood, and watched his eyes flutter closed like he was savouring it. watched his lips part on a sharp intake of breath that might have been pleasure.
"fuck," he breathed, and when his eyes opened again they were glazed with something that looked almost euphoric. "again."
something dark and possessive unfurled in your chest at his reaction, something that liked having this power over him. you made another cut, parallel to the first, and he groaned low in his throat, a sound that went straight between your legs. his hands tightened on your waist hard enough to bruise and you were mesmerised by the blood running down his chest in thin rivulets, by the proof that you could do this to him.
"you like this," you said, and it wasn't quite a question because you could see it in his face, in the way his breathing had gone ragged.
"i love it," he admitted without shame, without hesitation. "love that you're the one doing it. love that you have this power over me. love that i can bleed for you when i can't bleed for anyone else."
you pressed the knife harder against his chest, dragging it down toward his ribs in a longer line this time, watching blood well up in the blade's wake like you were painting him. his stomach muscles tensed under your touch and his breathing was getting heavier, more erratic, more desperate.
"fuck," he hissed when you pressed the tip of the blade just above his hip bone, twisting it slightly to make it hurt more. his hand shot out to grab your wrist, not to stop you, just to steady himself, fingers digging in hard enough that you'd have marks later. "you have no idea what you're doing to me."
"i think i have some idea." you could see it in the way his pupils were blown wide, black almost completely swallowing the brown. could see it in the way he was already getting hard, the bulge in his jeans obvious and growing. "you're getting off on this. on me hurting you."
"of course i am." his free hand fisted in your hair, pulling you closer until your faces were inches apart and you could feel his breath on your lips. "you're the only person in the world who can make me feel pain. do you understand how fucking intoxicating that is?"
you dragged the knife across his collarbone, following the line of bone, and he groaned again. the sound was rough and desperate and so clearly pleasure that it made your own breathing pick up. blood was everywhere now, painting his chest in abstract patterns, dripping down his stomach to soak into the waistband of his jeans. he looked absolutely ruined and it was all because of you.
"that's enough playing around," he said suddenly, and his hand wrapped around your throat, not squeezing but possessive. his other hand plucked the knife from your grip easily. "my turn now."
he tossed the knife aside and before you could protest, before you could even process the loss of the weapon, he was on you. his mouth crashed against yours and the kiss was immediately desperate and consuming, his tongue sliding against yours while his hand tightened slightly on your throat. you could taste something metallic and realised with a start that it was his blood from where you'd apparently cut his lip at some point.
"been so patient with you," he muttered against your lips, walking you backward until your back hit the wall hard enough to knock the breath from your lungs. "letting you have your little tantrum. letting you cut me up like i'm your personal canvas. but i think that's enough attitude for one night, don't you?"
"i'm still mad at you," you said, even as your hands fisted in his bloody shirt, pulling him closer instead of pushing away like you should.
"oh, i know." his smile was sharp and mean as he pulled back just enough to look at you properly. "and i'm going to fuck that right out of you."
"you think it's going to be that easy?" you challenged, lifting your chin defiantly even though your heart was racing and you could feel how wet you already were.
"easy? no." his hand left your throat to work at your top, yanking it over your head roughly enough that you heard fabric tear. "but it'll be fun watching you try to stay bratty when you're falling apart on my cock."
"big talk from someone who—" your words cut off in a gasp as he shoved his hand down your pants without warning, fingers immediately finding how wet you were.
"from someone who what?" he asked, voice dripping with condescension as his fingers slid through your folds, spreading the evidence of your arousal. "go on, finish that sentence. oh wait, you can't, can you? not when you're this fucking wet for me already."
"fuck you," you managed, but it came out breathless and weak.
"you will be soon." he pulled his hand out and brought his fingers to his mouth, maintaining eye contact as he sucked them clean with obvious enjoyment. "mm. tastes like you're not as mad as you're pretending to be."
"i am mad—"
"then why are you dripping down your thighs, sweetheart?" he popped the button on your jeans and shoved them down along with your underwear in one rough movement. "why are you trembling? why can't you stop looking at me like you want me to ruin you?"
you opened your mouth to snap back with something cutting but he chose that exact moment to push two fingers inside you and the words dissolved into a moan that echoed embarrassingly in the small space. "
there we go," he said, and he sounded so pleased with himself it should have been annoying. "that's much better than all that talking back."
his fingers worked you with devastating efficiency, like he'd studied your body and knew exactly what you needed. they curled to hit that spot inside you that made your knees weak while his thumb circled your clit with perfect pressure. you were already embarrassingly close, wound tight from weeks of missing him and the adrenaline of the knifeplay and having him this close after thinking you'd never see him again.
"look at you," he murmured, his free hand coming up to grip your jaw firmly, forcing you to meet his eyes. "getting so close already. want to come on my fingers, baby?"
"yes," you gasped, past the point of playing hard to get or pretending you didn't want this desperately.
"ask me nicely."
"what?"
his fingers slowed to an agonising pace that had you wanting to cry from frustration. "i said ask me nicely. where are your manners?"
"please," you gritted out, hating how desperate you sounded but needing the release too badly to care about pride.
"please what?"
"please let me come."
"hmm." his fingers stopped moving entirely and you actually whimpered, a pathetic needy sound. "i don't know if you deserve it yet. you've been pretty bratty. throwing things at me, stabbing me, running away for two weeks and making me think you were dead..."
"sunoo, please—"
"tell me you're sorry," he demanded, and his eyes were dark and intense and utterly serious. "tell me you're sorry for leaving and i'll let you come."
your pride warred with need and need won decisively. "i'm sorry," you gasped out. "i'm sorry for leaving, please, i need—"
"good girl." his fingers resumed their movement immediately, faster now, harder, and you were right back on that edge within seconds. "see how easy things are when you behave?"
you came with a cry that was probably too loud, clenching around his fingers rhythmically, and he worked you through it with a satisfied smile on his face. but before you could catch your breath, before you could even start to come down, he was pulling his fingers out and spinning you around, pressing your front against the wall.
"now here's what's going to happen," he said against your ear, his body a solid line of heat against your back. "i'm going to fuck you against this wall until you forget why you were mad at me. and you're going to take it and thank me for it. understand?"
"you're so full of yourself—" you started, but cut off with a gasp as you felt him line himself up, the head of his cock pressing against your entrance.
"and you're about to be full of me," he said, and thrust in with one brutal movement that punched the air from your lungs.
you cried out at the stretch, at the way he filled you so completely you could barely breathe. he was big, bigger than you'd expected, and the angle had him hitting so deep it bordered on too much, on the edge of pain.
"fuck, you're tight," he groaned against your neck, and his voice was wrecked in a way that sent another wave of heat through you. "squeezing my cock like you don't want to let me go. thought you were mad at me?"
"i am," you managed, but it came out weak and breathless and completely unconvincing.
"sure you are." he pulled almost all the way out and slammed back in, setting a punishing pace that had you seeing stars. "that's why you're taking my cock so well. that's why you're already getting wet again. because you're so mad at me."
"shut up," you gasped, but you were already pushing back against him, meeting his thrusts, chasing the pleasure.
"make me." his hand came up to wrap around your throat from behind, not squeezing but possessive, claiming, owning. "oh wait, you can't. you're too busy moaning for me."
he was right and you hated it. every thrust hit perfectly, the angle letting him go so deep you could feel him everywhere, feel him splitting you open. your legs were shaking, barely holding you up, and if it wasn't for his grip on your hip and throat you would have collapsed.
"this is what you needed, isn't it?" he panted against your ear, and each word was punctuated by a thrust. "needed me to fuck some sense into you. needed to be reminded who you belong to."
"i don't belong to anyone," you tried to argue, but it came out more like a moan than actual words.
"liar." his hand slid from your hip to between your legs, fingers finding your clit and circling it with maddening pressure. "you're mine. have been since that jewelry store. you just needed a reminder."
"sunoo," you gasped, feeling yourself getting close again impossibly fast, your body responding to him like it was made for this.
"that's right. say my name. let everyone know who's fucking you this good." his pace got harder, more erratic, and his fingers worked your clit in tight circles. "come on my cock, sweetheart. show me who you belong to."
your second orgasm hit even harder than the first, your whole body seizing up as pleasure crashed over you in waves. you heard yourself crying out his name, felt yourself clenching around him rhythmically, and it was so intense you actually saw stars, your vision whiting out at the edges.
"fuck, that's it," sunoo groaned, and his rhythm was faltering now, getting sloppy. "feel so good when you come. so perfect. gonna fill you up. gonna make sure you remember this."
he thrust into you one final time, grinding deep, and you felt him pulse inside you, filling you with heat. for a long moment neither of you moved, both gasping for air, bodies slick with sweat and blood and completely wrung out.
then he was pulling out carefully, gently, and turning you around. he caught you when your legs threatened to give out, his arms coming around you to hold you steady. his expression had shifted, the mean dominant edge smoothed away into something softer, more vulnerable.
"can you walk?" he asked, and there was genuine concern in his voice now.
"maybe," you managed, still trying to catch your breath and make your brain work again.
"good enough." he scooped you up easily like you weighed nothing, carrying you toward the bed. "we're not done yet."
"sunoo, i can't—" you started, genuinely not sure your body could handle more.
"yes you can," he said simply, and there was that commanding tone again that made your stomach flip.
"you're insane," you said, but you didn't push him away when he laid you down on the mattress and settled between your legs.
"we've established that." he looked up at you through his lashes, and even covered in blood and sweat he was beautiful. "now be a good girl and let me taste you."
before you could respond, his mouth was on you and his tongue was licking through your folds, tasting the mixture of both of you. you nearly came off the bed from the sensitivity, it was almost too much.
"too much," you gasped, hands flying to his hair, trying to push him away.
he just grabbed your wrists and pinned them to your sides, not even pausing in his ministrations. "i don't remember asking," he said against you, the vibration of his words making you whimper.
"sunoo—"
"what did i say about talking back?" he looked up at you and his eyes were dark and stern. "every time you argue, i'm adding another orgasm. want to keep going?"
you shut your mouth immediately, and he smiled. "that's what i thought. now stay still."
he went back to work with renewed focus, his tongue circling your clit while keeping your wrists pinned to the bed. you were so sensitive that every touch felt electric, overwhelming, bordering on painful but in a way that still felt good.
"that's better," he murmured between licks, his breath hot against your oversensitized flesh. "no more attitude. just taking what i give you like a good girl."
despite the oversensitivity, despite thinking it was impossible, you felt it building again. he was making it happen with that devastating tongue, working you with the kind of precision that came from paying attention, from caring.
"sunoo, i'm—" you gasped, your hips trying to move but he held you down effortlessly.
"i know." his tongue moved faster and you could feel him smiling against you. "give it to me. one more, baby. you can do it."
when you came this time it was almost painful, the pleasure so intense it felt like electricity shooting through your entire nervous system. you were vaguely aware of crying, of making sounds that didn't sound human, but you couldn't stop it, couldn't control your body's response.
sunoo worked you through it gently this time, his tongue softening as you came down, pressing soft kisses to your inner thighs while you shook and gasped and tried to remember how to breathe. when he finally pulled back, you were completely wrecked, trembling and boneless and utterly spent.
"look at you," he said softly, crawling up your body to gather you into his arms. "so pretty when you let go."
you couldn't even form words, just buried your face in his chest and breathed in the scent of him. blood and sweat and something uniquely sunoo that made your chest ache with how much you'd missed it.
"come on," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "let's get you cleaned up."
he carried you to the bathroom and this time you didn't protest, too exhausted and wrung out to do anything but let him take care of you. he started the shower and helped you under the spray, his hands impossibly gentle now as he washed you with careful attention.
"did i hurt you?" he asked quietly, his fingers tracing over the marks he'd left on your body. the bruises blooming on your hips and wrists, the fingerprints on your throat. "too rough?"
"no," you said honestly, leaning into his touch. "just... intense."
"good intense or bad intense?"
"good," you admitted, feeling heat rise to your cheeks despite everything you'd just done. "really good."
he smiled softly at that, genuine and so beautiful it made your chest tight. "good. i never want to actually hurt you. even when i'm being mean."
"you were pretty mean," you said, but there was no heat in it, just fond observation.
"you liked it," he countered, and when you didn't argue, his smile widened into something more smug. "knew you would. knew underneath all that attitude you just needed someone to put you in your place."
"don't get cocky."
"too late." but then his expression softened again as he washed your hair with careful fingers, working through the tangles with patience. "but i'll try to be humble. for you."
"you're bleeding," you pointed out, looking at the cuts on his chest that were still seeping blood sluggishly into the water running down the drain.
"i know." he sounded almost pleased about it, like the wounds were a gift. "they'll scar. i'll have marks from you forever. i like that idea."
when you were both clean, when the water had finally run clear and all the blood was washed away, he dried you off with a towel and found one of your shirts. he helped you into it despite your weak protest that you could dress yourself, then carried you back to bed and settled you against his chest with your head tucked under his chin.
"i love you," he said quietly into the darkness, his hand stroking through your damp hair in soothing motions. "i know i'm fucked up about showing it. i know i hurt you. but i love you more than anything. you're my everything."
"i love you too," you whispered. "even when you're an asshole."
"especially when i'm an asshole," he corrected with a soft laugh. "that's when you get the most worked up."
"shut up."
"see? bratty even now." but his tone was fond, affectionate, full of something warm. "get some sleep, sweetheart. i'll be here when you wake up."
"promise?"
"i promise," he said seriously, and you could hear the weight of it in his voice. "i'm never leaving you again. never making you doubt how important you are to me. you're stuck with me now. for better or worse."
"mostly worse," you mumbled, already drifting off, exhaustion pulling you under.
you fell asleep wrapped in his arms, feeling safer and more content than you had in weeks, and for the first time since everything fell apart you felt like you were exactly where you were supposed to be.
note 2: the whole soulmate thing was inspired by this!
if you liked this please comment or reblog to give me your feedback! <3
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i love this genre of fics and i genuinely think it's so hard to write so PHEW 😮💨😮💨 i feel like this was so on brand for sunoo and i need this sunoo and and and
thinking about fwb!nicholas .ᐟ.ᐟ
the second nicholas groans softly, the sound something close to a purr, you pull away from his plush lips. if you were new to this, you would expect the slip up to cast a lovely, pink color over his cheekbones – but you’re not.
you don’t remember when making out with your best friend had become normal, but you don’t really care, either. your skin remembers how the soft sheets under and his large body above you feel – and even the scent of his apartment, mingled with the trace of cigarettes and his cologne, has become overly familiar now.
you don’t know when he’s gotten confident enough to just keep his eyes set on yours, gaze so intense that you end up being the one almost flustered by it. not that he’s ever been shy, exactly. but he knows you’re lying when you tell him over and over again that he’s not your type – and he knows you know, too. makes sure you feel how that boosts his confidence. in the way his hand stays under your shirt, finding home on your waist as though it belongs there. in how his lips curl up into a knowing grin when he feels goosebumps arise underneath the rough skin of his fingertips, right where he presses a little harder as if he’s claiming you.
“nico,” you try to say, but your throat is so dry it only comes out as a whisper.
“hm, pretty?”
the roughness in his voice is enough to let your gaze drop to his lips again. and you can tell he sees by how his tongue darts out to wet them, you just hope he doesn’t notice how the action makes your breath hitch.
“don’t read too much into this, yeah?” you say softly, slowly raising your gaze to look at him with big, doey, eyes and something that tells him you’re trying to convince yourself more than him. “you know you’re–”
“not your type, yes, pretty,” he finishes your sentence. “heard you the first time you said it.”
but when his fingers dig even deeper into the soft skin of your waist, and his lips find their way from your jaw over your neck and down to your collarbone, you know you can’t keep pretending forever. and you know he knows, too.
© dazzlingjaeyun, 2026. please don't copy, translate, or post on any other platforms. find my other works here.
⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔
hanna's note: &team debut on main?? so so tempted to turn this into a full fic 😞
[&team.taglist]: @tmrwsuns @brklynbabyjay
i can’t wait for this to be done, i swear. i’m still working on my jay fic 😾 and this will be my first ever fic for riki, yay.
oh i am SAT for this one mhmmm everyone and their moms know i'm obsessed with angst fics this is gonna go down in history
everyone look it's me and @tmrwsuns !!!
can’t look away - 中耒田悠真
(2.4k words)
warnings: smut! mdni. female reader, making out, yuma is a tease but what is new, oral (f receiving), fingering
a/n: my first ever attempt at a smut fic, let’s hope it’s not too bad T^T
yuma’s presence has been slowly driving you insane.
you shouldn’t have been paying that much attention to him, anyways. there was a plethora of things to occupy yourself with - the food, euijoo and nicholas bickering about something irrelevant while jo sat next to them and listened intently, laughing from time to time at their antics. hell, even the game of mariokart playing on the tv as harua, maki and taki’s voices echoed throughout the room, yelling at each other about ‘dirty moves’ and accusing one another of cheating at the game every five seconds.
and yet your attention was on yuma only. nakakita yuma, sitting on his phone and seemingly scrolling through something with a stoic expression on his face as he waited for the round to end so that he can switch with harua and play.
nakakita yuma, who was sitting dangerously close to you - knees brushing, head resting on your arm like it was the most normal thing in the world. his blonde hair was slightly disheveled, strands falling on his face, resting just above his eyelashes. the tank top and sweatpants combination was almost deadly - his arms on full display, shirt sticking to his body perfectly.
you did everything you could to avert your gaze to the tv screen, pretending to be focused on anything but him - but you could feel your heart beating faster each time he adjusted his position, each time his free hand accidentally grazed your thigh.
it was impossible to ignore.
you reached for your phone, a sign of relief leaving your lips as you saw the screen light up, the time showing that it was already way past midnight - a perfect excuse for you to leave euijoo’s apartment and get yourself out of this situation.
you stood up, gently lifting yourself off of the couch, and announced loudly that it was your time to go - your statement met with a few groans of dissatisfaction and a few sympathetic looks. you moved towards the door, grabbing your things in the process, ready to put your shoes on when a familiar voice rang from beside you.
‘want a ride home?’
yuma was now standing behind you - leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. his brows were slightly furrowed, as if awaiting your answer. you shook your head, giving him a smile.
‘no need. i don’t wanna trouble you.’ you mumbled, averting his gaze, suddenly very focused on your shoes. you could hear the chuckle leaving his lisp at your words - the sound making your heart beat just a little faster, that familiar tingling feeling settling in your stomach.
‘you wouldn’t be troubling me, we literally live in the same direction.’ he stated, already putting his shoes on. ‘besides, it’s late. wouldn’t want anything to happen to my favorite girl.’
my favorite girl.
you could feel heat rising up to your cheeks, eyes meeting with his for a spare second before looking away once more, opting for only a nod as a response as you said your final goodbyes to the rest of your friends, heading outside and into yuma’s car.
the drive was quiet, only thing filling the car being the sound of yuma’s playlist and the steady rhythm of your breathing. an undeniable tension hung in the air, or maybe you were just imagining things - eyes drifting towards yuma from time to time, studying his face from the side.
he was focused on the road - one hand on the steering wheel, the other laying coomfortably on his thigh. you could see the veins running along his arms and the outer parts of his palms, flexing subtly with each movement of his hand on the steering wheel, each time he had to change gears.
‘i can feel you staring, pretty.’ yuma’s voice cut through the silence as the car stopped at a red light, laced with a hint of humour. he could see the way your gaze shifted towards the window, head turning slightly to the right, the embarrassed expression gracing your face, and he couldn’t help but chuckle.
‘sorry.’ you mumbled, eyes turning towards him again just for a second. yuma shook his head - the light switching from red to yellow, from yellow to green.
‘nothing to be sorry for.’ he answered, the car taking a left turn as his hands worked on the steering wheel. ‘i like having your eyes on me. feels nice.’
normally you would’ve taken his words as a joke - a poor attempt to lighten up the atmosphere, ease up the tension hanging between you. but there was no hint of mockery in his voice, nothing that could’ve indicated that his words were a joke. the thought of that sent a shiver down your body.
yuma parked his car in front of your apartment complex, in one of the many empty spaces aviable, and turned the engine off. the two of you sat there in silence for a solid minute - as if neither of you wanted to leave the other, all while not wanting to admit it.
you moved first: hand shifting to unbuckle your seatbelt with yuma following soon after, both unlocking with a satisfying click. before you were able to reach to open the door on the passenger side, he was already leaning in to do it for you - so close you could smell his perfume.
he lingered there for a while - breath hot on your neck as he reached for the handle to open the car door. he used his other hand to steady himself, placing his palm on your car seat, fingers just lightly grazing your leg in the process. and yet that loght touch, mixed with his sudden closeness was enough to send waves of heat down your body.
yuma moved away and you missed his presence the moment he did - an almost unnoticeable frown on your face as you moved out of the car. yuma studied your movements as your hand lingered on the handle a little longer than necessary, your eyes flickering to his for just a second, as if there was something on your mind you haven’t yet shared.
you opened your mouth to speak. his words came first.
‘want me to walk you to the door?’
‘would you mind walking me to the door?’
both of you chuckled - the tension between you easing up for just a second as yuma got out of his car, making sure to lock it before accompanying you towards the building.
his lips were on yours before you even entered your apartment, the doors still not opened as he swiftly moved his tongue against your bottom lip, almost as if testing the waters - whether you’ll let him deepen the kiss or not. you fumbled with your keys, trying your best not to succumb to the pleasure just yet. but it was so hard when yuma’s hands were already squeezing your waist so deliciously, muscles flexing on full display.
you somehow managed to open the door and close them after entering the aparmtent, all with yuma’s lips still on you - now trailing down your jaw with little kisses and licks, each touch electric on your body. your hand flew to his hair almost instinctively, the other resting against his chest.
‘you’ve been staring at me all night, pretty.’ he mumbled in between kisses, now moving up your neck. his hands trailed up, too - grazing the skin underneath your shirt the feel of his bare skin against yours almost dizzying. ‘couldn’t take your eyes off of me, hm?’
you couldn’t bring yourself to respond - squirming under his touch, completely at his mercy, the heat down your core growing impossible to ignore.
he led you to the bedroom, using his prior knowledge of your apartment’s layout after the multiple hangouts hosted at your place, multiple times he slept over after being too drunk or too tired to bother going home.
yuma backed you towards the edge of the bed - hands firm on your waist as he motioned you to sit down, positioning himself between your legs.
then his hands moved to the hem of your shorts.
yuma looked up, searching your face for any signs of discomfort. and yet he found none - your eyes hazy with desire, avoiding his gaze as if you suddenly grew shy of the hungry look he graced you with.
‘can i take these off?’ he hummed, fingers hooked at the loops while his other hand rested on the zipper - so close to your core, adm yet still so far away. you nodded, but yuma didn’t seem satisfied. ‘use your words, pretty. need to hear you say it.’
your eyes shifted towards his figure, now kneeling in front of you, eyes dark and shiny with want, almost begging you to agree.
‘yes. yes, please.’
yuma wasted no time, unzipping your shorts and tugging them off of your legs along with your panties - your glistening folds now in full display right in front of his eyes. he positioned his hands on both your thighs, grip firm but not too tight, holding your legs in place. you opened your mouth to say something - and yet your words died right in your throat, a quiet moan leaving your lips as he delved right in, nose brushing against your clit as he licked an experimental stripe up your cunt, testing to see your reaction.
he hummed to himself, smiling against your folds as if satisfied with the outcome of his action. he repeated it a few more times - each time drawing a satisfactory reaction out of you, the pretty sounds leaving your lips making blood rush straight to his aching cock.
‘been wanting to do this for so long’ he mumbled with his face buried deep, tongue working wonders on your clit as his cock strained against his sweatpants, begging to be touched. but he couldn’t care less about himself at the moment - all he wanted to do was enjoy having you coming undone on his tongue. ‘wanted to taste that pretty pussy for months.’
yuma’s words somehow turned you on even more, the pleasure blissfully overwhelming as you felt yourself nearing an orgasm. yuma could feel it too - with the way your thighs trembled slightly, the way your breathing got heavier, moans more airy.
and then… he stopped.
you looked down at him - brows knit in confusion as you watched yuma lick the excess wetness off of his lips, a proud smile on his face as if he didn’t just stop seconds short from you coming on his tongue. his eyes met yours and you noticed a glint of mischievousness in them, suddenly curious as to what he was up to, why he stopped when you were so, so close.
he chuckled under his breath, face leaning in between your legs once more. and yet instead of touching you where you needed it most, his lips landed on the inner side of your thighs - trailing kisses up and down your skin, dangerously close to your core, and yet still not close enough to give you full satisfaction. he nipped and licked at the skin, leaving little bite marks and soothing the pain with his tongue, his touch cool against the burning skin of your inner legs, all while you squirmed under his touch - needing more, and yet not having your needs met.
‘yuma, please.’ a soft whine escaped your lips, hand reaching up to get the hair out of your face. he smiled, an innocent expression taunting you, almost comically contrasting his current actions.
‘hm?’ he hummed, one of his hands now loosening it’s grip, fingers tracing gentle patterns down your legs and up the inside of your thighs - eyes taking in the beautiful sight in front of him, hungry for another taste. ‘please, what, pretty?’
you murmured something so quietly yuma almost didn’t catch it - and yet by the way his lips curved up into a grin you knew that he definitely did. but an answer like that didn’t satisfy him.
‘i’m afraid i didn’t hear you.’ yuma’s words were laced with a hint of humour, thumb rubbing circles on your thigh, getting dangerously close to your clit every now and then. ‘could you repeat that, hm?
‘touch me.’ you mumbled, fighting your embarrassment as you felt heat rising up to your cheeks, the look on your face almost pleading for a release. ‘please. i need you, yuma.’
nakakita yuma may have been an absolute tease, but seeing the look on your face, eyes glistening with need, and hearing the slight desperation in your words? he just couldn’t help himself.
he took a second to get his hair out of his face before delving right back in, tongue working on your clit with the precision of someone who knew exactly what he was doing - a gasp escaping your lips at the sudden contact, a wave of pleasure coursing through your body.
you felt one of his hands leaving your thigh, slightly surprised at the sudden lack of contact. and yet it wasn’t long before you felt his hand on your body again - yuma repositioning himself slightly as he easily slid two of his fingers right between your folds, movements slow at first as he continued licking at your clit. you felt yourself clenching around his hand, the feeling almost too good to be true.
yuma hummed into your pussy as he felt your muscles tensing up and this time he didn’t stop - speeding his movements up instead, fingers now pumping in and out of you at a steady pace, tongue lapping up all the juices.
your moans got louder - the sound filling your bedroom along with the wet sounds from down between your legs. it wasn’t long before your orgasm hit: coming to you in a wave of pure pleasure and ecstasy, legs trembling as yuma drove you over the edge.
he pulled his fingers out of your cunt, still on his knees in front of you as he took them into his mouth and licked them clean. his eyes never left your frame as he watched you steady your breathing, trying to regain your composure after the wave of pleasure finally died down.
you looked down at him, eyes meeting his. then they trailed lower - to the very obvious bulge in his sweatpants, a bead of precum staining the grey material. yuma followed your gaze, chuckling to himself when he realized what you were looking at.
he slowly stood up from the floor, his cock now almost in front of your eyes, still fully clothed.
‘you think you’d have it in you for round two, pretty?’
dorm love. | euijoo byun.
synopsis: your cute resident advisor is very oblivious to your advances on him— good thing he's sweet enough to forgive every time.
content warnings: fem!reader, mention of drinking, lighthearted jealousy, jo catches a stray
author's note: daydreamed about euijoo being a cute ra a little too hard </3 enjoy!
© hrtfelt4u 2025
agree to disagree?
❝i love you; by extension, i hate all other things❞
❝i forgive the world because it has you❞
pairing : euijoo x reader, est. relationship
genre : fluff, comfort, grumpy!reader x sunshine!euijoo but you don't exactly get to see much of his sunshiney side in this so more like subdued sunshine? sunshine but it's a cloudy day kinda vibe? idk what im on about but you get what i mean 😭
prompt (?) : i saw a post the other day about something hozier said in an interview (1st quote from above) and was reminded of another quote (2nd one) that felt like its perfect companion quote and i was like omg someone should write a fic using these two! then i was like wait i can also do that. so here we are. i kinda wanna write an angsty version but maybe some other day
warnings : one instance of bullying mentioned, one cuss word, not proofread
word count : around 800
you had an okay childhood – nice parents, good friends, financially secure environment, fun memories. and so to an outsider, it doesn't make sense why you grow up angry at the world. but those close to you know that it's because you also grew up watching the hypocritical ways of the world that preached kindness on one hand while making the lives of those who chose to walk down that path perpetually miserable. well actually no, scratch that, that makes it sound like you're some sort of good samaritan who is deeply concerned about the well-being of the general public – you're not that philanthropic.
you're really only concerned about one person in particular – byun euijoo. your childhood best friend/love and light of your life. beautiful, soft, kind, and altruistic to a fault. you honestly still can't comprehend how he can wake up everyday and choose to be good despite how brutal the world is to him. all your life, you've grown up seeing him be kind and compassionate to everyone, but most infuriatingly even to people who don't deserve it. and so, because of him, you have a bone to pick with the world and its unfair ways. euijoo does not usually complain and bears it all silently, because he wants to keep the peace, and you hate it. doesn't he have you? all he has to do is tell you, because you would go to war for his peace if that's what it takes.
but that's precisely why he doesn't tell you – because he's afraid you'll get yourself into trouble trying to get even for him. like when you were 5-years-old and you bit a boy's arm because he stole euijoo’s favourite toy and claimed it as his own. or the time in middle school when the class bully tore up his notebooks before the final exams just because he had helped a girl the guy had happened to have a crush on – the next day, you tripped him. he fell and ended up with a bloody mouth and a chipped tooth. or the time in high school when euijoo worked part-time at the local supermarket and the owner fired him without pay after making him work overtime for months and then claiming he had stolen money out of the cash register. there were no cctv cameras so everyone just took his word for it. you threw a rock through the glass front doors.
granted, you are not as…violent as an adult, since that tends to have serious consequences. but by no means are you any less scary.
he doesn't like to complain, but that doesn't mean he's never affected by it – he's only human, after all. there are days when his smile doesn't shine as bright, like today. days when everything feels a little heavier. when you open the door to him tonight, his eyes lack their usual glint, and his smile feels subdued. it's not everyday he lets his weariness show. it's not everyday that he walks over to you like this and wordlessly slumps onto your shoulder, seeking comfort in your arms. he rarely lets you see how draining it is, so when he does, you know it's worse than usual.
blood rushes to your head as you feel a surge of rage, and your hold around him tightens. “what happened? i'm gonna kill the bastards i swear,” you fume.
euijoo lets out a tired chuckle and rubs your back in an attempt to calm you. “i didn't even say anything and you're already plotting murders?”
“fine. i'll do it after you tell me. spill.”
“hmm, let's just stay like this for a while?” he murmurs with a kiss, breathing in your scent and trying to forget about everything else.
you sigh. you suppose vengeance can wait. for now you will be his solace. you comb your fingers through his hair, and he smiles knowing that for tonight you have given in. the weight feels lighter in your embrace.
“do you think i'm a pushover too?” he asks after a while, his voice quiet and muffled.
your fingers in his hair freeze for just a second before continuing. “no. i think you're too nice for this wretched world. it doesn't know a thing about kindness and certainly doesn't deserve yours.”
“you have got to stop making me sound like i'm a saint or something,” he mumbles with a laugh, before settling into silence again. and then, “’s not so bad, you know,”
“what?”
“the world. i like it because it has you. i try to be kind because it has you.”
your eyes sting. “well i hate it for not being nicer to you,”
“debatable. it gave me you.”
“agree to disagree?”
“deal.”
divider credits: @/strangergraphics
starstruck ₊⊹〃ksn
music business major!sunoo x fem!reader
୨୧ genre: love at first sight – college au!, fluff | words: 5.7k | cw: alcohol consumption, sunoo is just very in love and this is lowkey cliché ୨୧
hanna says: i originally wrote this one for euijoo on my &team blog, so in case this seems familiar to anyone; yes, i plagiarized myself. thank you to @brklynbabyjay for reading over this and reassuring me with it and thank you to @jayparked for putting me onto the idea of cross-posting my stuff in the first place (and the constant encouragement) <3
sunoo had never been the type to receive a lot of attention from others. he wasn't disliked, he just went unnoticed – overlooked, despite his bright and outgoing personality. but he didn't mind. he liked it that way; being in his own little bubble that consisted of more or less boring classes, late night studying, his favourite tv shows, and weekends spent on jam sessions with his best friend jay. it was peaceful like that and he wouldn't have wanted it any other way.
until he met you.
sunoo was squeezing through the crowded college hallways, lost in thought about the upcoming exam period, and mentally organizing how to spread out all the study materials over the next two weeks, when a bright, unfamiliar laugh pierced through the haze of his thoughts.
almost instantly, his eyes found the source of the sound – and he swore he could feel his heart sink. for a moment, he stood frozen, completely taken aback as he took in the image a few feet away from him. the way he could see your eyes light up even from the distance and how you seemed to outshine everyone else without even trying. how the smile you wore made his heart pound heavily against his chest, its warmth embracing him and leaving him unable to look away.
it wasn’t until a dull ache in his shoulder brought him back to reality that he finally gathered his thoughts.
"how about not standing in the middle of the hallway," sunoo heard an irritated student mutter as they walked around his frozen figure. mumbling a half-hearted apology, the boy quickly stepped aside.
when he looked back at you, you were gone, the spot that where you were standing just moments ago now empty – yet somehow, the warmth of your laugh seemed to stay. sunoo quickly shook his head as if that could change the fact that it suddenly seemed to only have space for you. out of sight, out of mind? hell no.
as he continued his way to the cafeteria, he tried hard to not allow you to consume his thoughts, but it was no use. it was almost ridiculous, he thought, how just about twenty seconds of seeing you could completely take over his mind. he didn't even know your name, and until two minutes ago, he hadn’t known you existed at all.
determined to not let his mind’s chaos show on his face, sunoo tightened his grip around the straps of his backpack and took a deep breath before stepping into the cafeteria and scanning the room for his best friend.
"sunoo! everything good?" jay greeted him once the younger found him sitting at a table.
"yes," he replied, almost a little too quickly. "why wouldn't everything be good?"
jay furrowed his brows, leaning back in his chair a bit, and scanned his best friend's face carefully. "you know," he started, "i usually ask. but honestly, today you're being weird about it." jay crossed his arms in front of his chest. "so, what's up?"
sunoo quickly looked down, knowing damn well he couldn’t lie to his friend face-to-face, and silently cursed himself for trying too hard to hide how he really felt. he'd always been awkward when trying to play it cool, and jay was too much of an attentive friend to not notice.
"nothing," he mumbled after a while, "i'm just stressing over exams, i guess."
jay sighed slightly. "you know you'll ace it, you always do. why do you have to panic first?"
sunoo simply shrugged as he picked up his cutlery, attempting to focus on his lunch and jay’s familiar ramble about finding healthy ways to relieve stress that he had heard so often he could recite it by now – attempting to not let his thoughts drift back to you.
𐙚 ⋆˚。. ᵎᵎ
yet, even days later, sunoo couldn’t erase the short moment from his mind, the sound of your laugh replaying in his head like a broken record. he found himself scanning the hallways more often, hoping to catch even a small glimpse of you. he told himself he’d approach you next time, but whenever he did spot you, his body felt frozen and his feet rooted in place.
jay was quick to catch on. the two were sitting on the lawn near campus after some hours of studying together in the library. sure, both were exhausted, but sunoo seemed a little quieter than usual.
"you’ve been acting weird lately," jay said after some moments of silence, a hint of concern coating his words, "what's going on? is it really just exams?"
sunoo tried to brush it off with a shrug. "it's nothing, just a lot on my mind."
jay raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. just as he was about to respond, he noticed the younger’s eyes slightly widen at something. while sunoo wondered how you always somehow managed to be exactly where he was, watching you a moment longer than he intended, jay followed his friends gaze and understood immediately.
"a lot on your mind? or someone on your mind? so, who is she?"
feeling his cheeks heat up just from being caught red-handed, sunoo immediately averted his gaze and looked down. "just–”, after a longer pause, he sighed, “actually, i don't know."
the corners of jay’s lips jumped up into a grin at sunoo’s blushed cheeks. "you don't know? so you’ve never talked to her? sunoo, come on, you’re the most sociable person i know!”
sunoo frowned, pursing his lower lip into a slight pout. "it’s not that easy. i don’t even know where to start. 'hi, i've been secretly watching you for a while now cause you're the prettiest girl i've ever seen?' will surely go well," he said sarcastically.
"it’s not rocket science," jay said with a laugh. "you don’t have to confess that you’re hopelessly in love with someone you barely know, sunoo. you just go up and say hi. you do know how to say hi, right?"
sunoo groaned, rolling his eyes at his friend’ remark. “i don’t know how to just... approach her like that. look, i never struggled to talk to anyone, but with her i just– i don’t know. i get nervous.”
“okay”, jay said, nodding understandingly, “then we’re gonna fix that.”
over the next few days, jay kept pushing him. whenever they passed you in the hallway, he would nudge sunoo’s shoulder and whisper, “now’s your chance,” but every time, sunoo’s nerves would get the best of him. his heart would race, his hands would get all sweaty, and the words he wanted to say would evaporate before he could open his mouth.
but jay, persistent as ever, wouldn’t give up. “look, sunoo,” he said one afternoon, pulling him aside after class, “if you don’t do something soon, someone else will. you don’t want to regret not shooting your shot, do you?”
sunoo sighed, knowing jay was right – but no matter how much he wanted to approach you, the thought of saying something and making a fool of himself kept holding him back.
one afternoon, in the final week of lectures before exam season officially started, sunoo was sitting in the cafeteria, eating his lunch with jay while grumbling about the little time they had between lectures and exams. he was mid-sentence when jay interrupted him.
“sunoo,” jay said, tilting his head to a table not too far away. turning his head, sunoo spotted you right there. usually, you'd sit with your friends, but this time, you were all by yourself.
“she's alone, that's your chance,” jay encouraged him yet another time to approach you. the younger opened his mouth to object, but nothing came out – you weren't surrounded by your friends, you weren't rushing to your next class; he didn't have any excuses this time.
"come on. what's the worst that can happen?"
sunoo let his friend’s words sink in. he could think of a few scenarios, each a little more terrifying than the other, yet despite all the doubts, he pushed his chair back, stood up on slightly wobbly knees, and walked over to your table. he didn't understand where his confidence came from, but just as quickly as it did, it disappeared again, when someone else approached you first.
he stopped dead in his tracks, watching as heeseung, whom he only knew as the captain of the college's basketball team, sat down next to you, greeted you with a gentle kiss on your cheek, and wrapped his arm around your waist to pull you closer.
sunoo’s heart dropped, his body freezing yet again. none of his overthinking had included the fact that you might not even be single, and suddenly, he felt stupid. so, so stupid. of course you had a boyfriend. why would someone like you not have a boyfriend?
he turned around, hoping that the way he’d stood there had, as usual, just gone unnoticed by everyone. then, he slowly shuffled back to the table he shared with jay where he sank down in his chair, shoulders slumped and eyes stuck to his still half-full tray of food.
a hint of worry washed over jay’s face as he saw his friends’ expression. he intentionally hadn’t observed the approach, wanting to spare sunoo from feeling watched, but now he couldn’t help but feel a hint of guilt for not knowing if he could have jumped in to help. “what happened?” he asked softly, not sure if he'd even get a reply.
sunoo just shook his head, not lifting his gaze. “nothing. she's with heeseung,” he replied silently. “shit,” jay sighed, running a hand through his hair, “i'm sorry, i had no idea.” again, sunoo shook his head slightly. “whatever. it was stupid to think she’d be single anyway.”
𐙚 ⋆˚。. ᵎᵎ
for the first time since he'd started college, sunoo felt genuinely thankful for the stress that came with exam season. he'd get to spend his time studying, sometimes until late at night, and whenever he finally closed his books, he was too exhausted to think about how he felt.although jay tried his best to convince sunoo to take more breaks, the younger thrived on the distraction that studying brought about.
knowing that exams would be the perfect distraction and that he'd head back to his home town to spend the summer break with his family, sunoo felt a little more at ease. he was sure that by the time he'd return to college, he'd be fully unbothered by you. it was a little ridiculous anyway, he tried to convince himself. he couldn’t seriously be upset that his hallway crush had a boyfriend. after all, he still didn’t even know your name, and now he was sure it would stay that way.
during the summer break, sunoo found comfort in returning home, where life around his family and childhood friends felt a little easier and a lot calmer. each day, the thought of you fell further back in his mind and by the time summer break came to an end, sunoo felt lighter. the idea of going back to campus was no longer stressful.
he’d be fine, that's what he told himself – and if he saw you again, so be it.
his resolve lasted exactly one day.
he had almost made it throughout the first day of classes without seeing you even a single time. one last class and he'd finally head to meet up with jay to catch up about the summer.
after settling for a spot near the middle of the room, sunoo pulled out his notebook and glanced around casually as the other students trickled in. just as he was about to grab his phone, a familiar laugh echoed through the room, making sunoo's hand freeze halfway to his pocket.
he didn’t even have to look to know it was you, instead recognizing the sound of your laugh as quickly as his favorite songs. and against his better judgment, he glanced up. there you were, walking in with a friend, that pretty smile on your face that still took sunoo’s breath away so easily. you hadn’t noticed him, but he sure as hell noticed you – and all the progress he thought he’d made over the summer crumbled in an instant.
but before he had time to mentally scold himself for how easily he let himself fall for you all over again, the professor began speaking, announcing the outline for the semester and the project that would take up the majority of the time, continuing with a speech on the importance of teamwork, but sunoo barely listened.
“i don't want any discussions on who’s working with who, so i'll be deciding the pairs. i expect you to work together respectfully and efficiently,” the professor continued. “alright, raise your hand when your name is called so your partner can find you.”
sunoo zoned out, still trying to push you from his mind, repeating a mantra to himself that he was just caught by surprise and that his heart would stop beating so damn fast once he got used to seeing you again.
"kim sunoo and–" the professor called out, snapping him back to attention, "– y/l/n y/n."
sunoo scanned the room while hesitantly raising his hand. for a second, you seemed to look around too, processing the pairing before your gaze settled on him.
slowly, as if in a daze, he looked up, meeting your eyes for the first time. then, his heart dropped. he could almost feel the air leave the room. it felt like time had slowed down, like every sound in the lecture hall faded except for the heavy drumming of his own heartbeat in his ears. he could feel heat rushing to his face, a lump forming in his throat and his head starting to spin, but he couldn’t look away.
and then, you smiled – just a soft, polite smile. it wasn't much, but sunoo swore the world stopped for a second.
when you turned back toward the front, he didn't even know if he'd returned the smile, if he'd nodded in acknowledgement, or if he'd done absolutely nothing.
throughout the entirety of the class, it became increasingly obvious for sunoo that the weeks of distance had done nothing to change the way he felt about you – that his heart would, in fact, not stop running a marathon each time he saw you. no matter how often, at that. he kept on zoning out, replaying the tiny interaction between you again and again, or looking back to your seat for just a second before he forced himself to look away again.
as the professor ended class, he started packing up his things, and took a deep breath, somehow bracing himself to talk to you. although he had prepared for that moment so long during the last semester – well, at least technically – he found himself hesitating yet again. his palms felt sweaty, and his heart raced faster with every step that brought him closer to where you were gathering your things. his mind raced with a thousand ways to approach the conversation, yet none of them really felt right.
just as he opened his mouth to greet you, you glanced up from your bag, your eyes meeting his for the second time that day. your soft smile appeared again – and sunoo completely forgot what he had planned to say.
"hi, sunoo, right?" you asked instead, not noticing the way you’d completely caught him off guard. your voice was gentle, and somehow it felt like a small bit of relief to hear his name spoken so softly.
sunoo swallowed hard, blinking as if snapping out of a daze. "uh, yeah. that’s me,” he said, managing an awkward laugh. "looks like we’re project partners."
you nodded, still smiling as you stood up. "should we maybe set up a time to meet and figure out a plan?" – such a simple question, and yet sunoo’s heart felt like it was running a marathon. he quickly nodded, "yeah, sure. uh... maybe at the library?"
"perfect," you said, slinging your bag over your shoulder. "how about tomorrow afternoon?"
"tomorrow sounds good," sunoo replied, his mind desperately searching for something else to say. his fingers fidgeted with the straps of his backpack as he added, "we… should we exchange numbers too?"
you smiled again, and sunoo could almost feel the tension melting away, although his pulse was still buzzing in his ears. when you wordlessly handed him your phone, almost brushing his fingers in the process, he just prayed you didn't hear how his breath hitched, quickly typed his number in and handed it back to you. "there you go."
"great! i’ll text you so we can talk about the details. see you tomorrow, sunoo."
with one last smile, you turned and headed out the door, leaving sunoo standing there, still trying to process the fact that not only had you smiled at him – several times – but now you had his number, even if just for coursework purposes.
"what took you so long?" jay frowned at his best friend as he finally approached their usual spot at the lawn.
sunoo plopped himself down next to him, hoping that the blush on his cheeks had faded by now, but jay was already eyeing him suspiciously.
“nothing,” sunoo said as he reached up to scratch the back of his neck. but the smile that kept creeping onto his face made jay narrowed his eyes. “yeah, i’m not buying it. that’s not a ‘nothing’ face. so, what happened?”
sunoo let out a long sigh, leaning back on his hands. “you remember that girl… the one from last semester?” he started, feeling his face flush slightly as he spoke.
"yeah, the one you swore you were over?" jay asked, an amused tone lacing his voice as he raised an eyebrow.
sunoo sighed, “i never swore anything.”
“right. so, what happened? did you see her?”
sunoo took a deep breath, feeling almost embarrassed at how easily he’d been caught. “well, she’s in my class."
jay’s eyes lit up. “she’s in your class?”
the younger nodded, “actually... we’re partnered up for the semester project,” he added, his voice a little quieter now.
jay’s jaw dropped in exaggerated surprise, “no way. the girl you were practically obsessed with is now your project partner? that’s so cliché!”
“obsessed is a strong word,” sunoo protested, even though he’d lie if he said that was too far from the truth.
"you do realize that this is the chance you've been waiting for, right?"
sunoo groaned, "it's not a chance, jay. she's taken, remember? i'm not going to try anything."
jay raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "you cannot know. maybe they broke up," he said, to which sunoo just shot him a pointed look that told him this was the end of their conversation.
𐙚 ⋆˚。. ᵎᵎ
in the following weeks, you and sunoo met regularly to work on the project. though the workload was tiring, the way your minds seemed to complement each other perfectly made the process easier than expected. it seemed like you could finish all of his thoughts when he struggled, and he had all the answers to your questions.
it should have been a relief for sunoo to know that the project wasn’t going to be impossible and you might even finish everything without working overtime (read: without him needing to spend extra hours trying his best to not act way too awkward around you). instead, the fact that beyond the pretty face that still left him breathless you were also incredibly smart made things only harder for him.
during the time you spent together, he couldn't help but notice little things about you that he hadn't seen from afar – just like the way you furrowed your brows and parted your lips slightly when you were focusing, or how you tapped your pen on your chin or your lips when you were thinking. all of these things, no matter how seemingly meaningless, somehow only carved the place he had reserved for you in his heart a little deeper. as if every single one of them made him want to find another adorable detail about you.
he'd catch himself smiling whenever he'd watch you a little too long while you were busy typing on your laptop, and he got used to quickly looking away or pretending to search something in his backpack every time you almost caught him. it was a miracle, really, how you hadn’t realized yet. at least if jay’s words were anything to go by, according to whom everyone could clearly see the way sunoo was so obviously, helplessly in love.
"you’re so down bad," he had remarked one time he met sunoo after your scheduled study session at the library – all smiley, obviously. but the younger had just quickly shrugged it off with a shy "oh, shut up."
but of course, working with you didn't only bring warmth and nervousness that had by now grown to feel almost comfortable. it also brought hard, almost cruel, reminders of how one-sided his feelings were.
there was that pretty necklace you wore, one with a small gem, that he was certain heeseung had gifted to you. it hung around your neck as if it wanted him to remember that you already belonged to someone else. and then, needless to say, there was heeseung himself, who'd come to pick you up from the library when you finished whatever you had planned for that day. sure, sunoo was glad to know there was someone who made sure you got home safely, but, hell, he would be that someone too.
every time he saw you smiling at your boyfriend, the brightness in your eyes sent a flutter through sunoo’s chest, only to quickly be replaced by the unpleasant reminder of how happy you were with him. he felt almost foolish for still liking you when he knew damn well that you were taken – especially when the confidence heeseung radiated made sunoo feel almost small, for heeseung seemed to be everything he was not, and even the mere thought of ever standing a chance felt ridiculous.
one afternoon when sunoo arrived to the library, he found you at your usual spot, already absorbed in the book in front of you and taking notes here and there.
"hey," he greeted gently after approaching the table, careful to not startle you. you looked up from the book and your eyes met his for a second – and although you’d held eye-contact with him for an uncountable amount of times by now, it still made his knees wobble like it was the first.
"hey," you greeted back with a soft smile. god, he swore his heart skipped a beat or two.
"i'm not late, am i?" sunoo asked after sitting down across from you, taking out his supplies, but never leaving your gaze.
"you’re not, " you shook your head, "just had nothing to do, so i figured i could start already. here look," you said, turning around your laptop so he could see the screen with the notes you had already taken. then, you continued working together until you reached the goal you had set for the day.
when sunoo packed up his things, he mentally prepared himself to see heeseung, his stomach filling with nervous anticipation. but even after a few minutes, he didn't catch any sight of him.
watching as you finished packing your bag, he swore your eyes scanned the library too – just for a second, before you quickly glanced down to your phone and bit your bottom lip just subtly enough for him to notice.
"isn't uh... isn't heeseung coming?" sunoo asked, tone careful, as if he wasn’t sure if that question was too personal and better left unasked. but you responded by shaking your head, words quickly following, “i'm going alone today.” you offered a slight smile, like you always did whenever answering one of his questions, but this time, it just didn’t make sunoo feel as fuzzy as usual.
"i can walk you home," he blurted out before his brain could even finish processing the thought, so he rowed back on it almost immediately, “sorry, that was a bad idea.”
"it wasn't, but you don’t have to. i appreciate it... thanks, sunoo." the volume of your voice decreased until all that was left was another, almost shy, but this time more genuine smile from you.
sunoo waited for a moment as if expecting you to say something else – take his offer, maybe. but as you looked back down at your phone, he gave a small nod, mumbling a low goodbye and left the library.
the following week, you canceled the study session last minute. it was the first time you had done so, and sunoo, already waiting at your usual spot in the library, couldn’t help the hint of concern while reading your message. yet, he didn’t dig deeper, knowing he was in no position to ask more personal questions, even if for the sake of looking out for you.
when you rescheduled for the week after, a rather blank expression had replaced your usual smiles and the silence between you felt more awkward than ever before. during the session, your eyes occasionally drifted away from the book, your notes, and from him, even when he was talking.
it wasn’t until sunoo noticed the absence of your necklace that he felt like there was more to your unusual behavior. you had absentmindedly reached for it, your fingers grazing your collarbone, but when they found nothing, you quickly pulled your hand away.
“hey,” he asked softly, “is everything okay?”
your eyes met his, surprised by his question, but you gave a small nod. "yeah, it's fine."
the way you immediately looked away after replying was all it took for sunoo to know better than that. he hesitated for a moment before softly offering, “you know... if you ever want to talk, i’ll listen.”
you gave him a longer look this time, and then, after a brief pause, you exhaled. “i broke up with heeseung.”
sunoo’s breath caught in his throat. sure, all he wanted was to be a safe space for you to talk and feel comfortable, understood, not alone, perhaps – but he hadn't expected you to actually tell him. not so quickly, and not that. for a moment, he just stared at you as if waiting for you to laugh it all off as a joke.
"i... i'm sorry. that must be hard" was all he managed to say, not sure how to choose his words and mentally cursing himself for making them sound awkward on top of that.
you nodded slightly, looking down at your hands, your voice quiet. "it’s been coming for a while, i guess. he’s been distant, and i should’ve known, but... yeah." sunoo could feel his heart crack at the hint of sadness in your voice.
he felt the urge to reach across the table, maybe take your hand or offer some kind of physical comfort, but he stopped himself. instead, he gave you a warm smile, hoping that it would somehow be enough.
“thanks for telling me,” he said gently. he wanted to say more, to be a better source of comfort, but something told him that you didn't want to talk about it now. “if you need anything, i’m here.”
you didn’t say anything for a moment, but then you gave a small, genuine smile – one that felt more like you. "thank you, sunoo."
𐙚 ⋆˚。. ᵎᵎ
in the following weeks, the two of you returned to your project work routine.sunoo began bringing you your usual coffee, just setting it down next to your books with a small remark like, "i thought that might help to cheer you up a little."
and while you just casually thanked him each time – at least you tried to be casual – these gestures began to tug at your heart. at some point, you found yourself looking forward to seeing him, not because of the free coffee but because of him. the way he understood you wordlessly, somehow always sensed when you needed a break or when the time was right for a joke and when it wasn’t. just the way his mere presence had something oh so comforting to it.
one time when you looked up to thank him, your eyes met his, and you held his gaze just long enough to notice how his brown hair fell slightly over his eyes – how his smile was so evident in them that it made your stomach feel all warm and fuzzy. and although you tried to shove the warmth away each time you felt it, you started seeing things you'd never noticed before; how his eyes sparkled when he was talking about something he seemed passionate about, or the way his smile grew just a little wider when he seemed nervous or embarrassed.
maybe it was too early to fall for him, but before you could waste a thought on that, you realized you already had. and sunoo had made it so easy.
𐙚 ⋆˚。. ᵎᵎ
"please, sunoo," you begged, pouting your lips slightly as if that was the ultimate way to persuade him to join a party a fellow student hosted to celebrate the end of the semester.
he opened his mouth to object, but in reality, he felt like he'd combust if you didn't stop pouting anytime soon, so he gave in. "fine, but only for two hours." you smiled brightly, still catching sunoo off guard like the very first time, and oh how he wished he could tell you just how much that smile meant to him. sure, throughout the second half of the semester, things between you two had started to feel a little less awkward. but despite jay’s (unsuccessful) attempts to encourage sunoo to finally tell you about his feelings, the latter didn't want to ruin the comfort you had just found in each other. if being somewhat between a classmate and a friend was the closest he could get to you, then he'd settle for that.
when you arrived to the party hours later that day, people were already gathering in the small place, drinking, chatting, or – unfortunately, if you were to ask sunoo – singing along to the music. and honestly, the place was a little too packed for your liking, yet feeling embraced by sunoo’s warmth next to you, it felt comfortable, somewhat safe.
you grabbed some drinks from the kitchen before pushing through the growing crowd of people, sunoo’s hand softly staying on the small of your back to not lose you. your skin buzzed in the spot where his hand rested, but you tried to shrug the feeling off – unsuccessfully so, for you still felt his touch when it was no longer there and you were just standing across each other, reminiscing about the past semester.
the more people came in, the louder the noise around you grew, forcing you to lean in a bit more whenever the other person said something. when you couldn't hear each other anymore, not even after standing unnervingly close, you exchanged a knowing look, and, without a word, moved to the balcony. there, you both leaned against the railing, enjoying the sudden silence as the city lights softly illuminated the dark sky. although the night air felt cool around you, the warmth of sunoo standing close enough that his arm almost brushed yours seemed enough to keep both of you comfortable.
after a few more beats of silence, sunoo let out a shaky breath, fingers curling around the railing before he turned to you. his eyes found yours, and he didn't know if that was what pushed him, or if it was the alcohol that made his head buzz softly.
“you know,” he started, “i’ve been meaning to tell you something.”
you blinked, the soft buzz in your own head letting his words sink in slower “yeah?” you asked, feeling your heart pick up pace, "me too."
now, it was sunoo’s time to blink a bit taken aback, and the confidence he had brought up from god knows where suddenly vanished. he swallowed, tightening his grip about the railing. "what is it?" he asked quietly, too scared to say what had been on his mind now that he didn't know what was on yours.
"no, you go first."
he hesitated, the previously comfortable silence slowly reaching a point where it began to feel almost unbearable. thinking he wouldn’t speak first, you opened your mouth to beat him to it. but just when you uttered those three words, he did the same.
"i like you," you both said in unison.
for a second, you both froze, wide-eyed.
"what?"
again, the word echoed in both of your voices. you could feel your cheeks warming, and before you could stop it, a small, nervous laugh escaped you.
sunoo blinked, as if too stunned to react, before the tension broke and he chuckled too. the sound of it sent a wave of warmth through you, only intensifying the fluttering in your chest.
"i–" he started, still smiling but a little more serious now. he took a breath before his eyes found yours again. "i've been wanting to say that for a while. longer than i probably should have." though his confession was soft, the sincerity behind it was heavy. his eyes searched yours for a reaction, and you felt your heart flutter yet again.
smiling, you took a step closer. “i just realized recently,” you admitted quietly, “but being with you, it’s just… it feels good.” like coming home after a long day, you wanted to add, but the words got stuck in your throat when sunoo took a small step forward, gently cupping your cheeks with his hands as if it were the most natural thing in the world. his touch was light and careful, like he was waiting for permission. so, with a small nod, you allowed him to close the distance that had always been between you – to finally kiss the lips that, with that laugh long ago, had captured him completely. <3
© dazzlingjaeyun, 2025. please don't copy, translate, or post on any other platforms. find my other works here
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this got me giggling and shit. SO CUTE AND WHOLESOME WHAT THE FAWK
AW THANK YOU 😔😔
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