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not warriors, wonbin x reader

! insomnia and depression, implied sexual relationships, smoking, alcohol consumption, a lot of comfort

🎧 not warriors by waterparks...

you were not a superhero, not a warrior or a knight. life was never a battle easy to win like in the fairytales. you thought it would be like your parents said, smoother with time and devotion. yet you felt like you were slowly drowning in your everyday life and your studies. it devoured you, ate you whole and left your soul to wander without being free.

each day was endless, and when you thought you could rest at night, your body took away the best of it. so you would lay on your bed and roll around, looking at the ceiling, then out of the window, the flicker of the nightlife outside barely enough for you to stay concentrated. it went on for a while, what seemed like years to you, when only weeks passed by. you were stuck in a routine you hated, but what else could you do? maybe if you had superpowers you could get out of it, change your whole life with a the sway of a wand and create an armor for yourself that nothing could break. but in the end, you were not a warrior.

of course your grades dropped so did your attendance. when you couldn't sleep all night, you'd find some solace under the sunrise and finally your mind would shut off and let you rest. the loophole kept going, you woke up past 7pm again, and you looked around your messed up apartment that you barely remembered. you couldn't stand it, you couldn't stand the way it was hard to navigate through the clothes and forgotten paper sheets, and how difficult it was to even get out of bed. by 2am, you finally got up and headed outside. the night air bit your face but you couldn't care less. you walked inside the convenience store with insane neon lights, they always made you dizzy, and got a few snacks that would keep you going for the next few hours until you would finally manage to eat. eat something else than a pack of chocopie, eat more than what you bought that day. you walked to the bench a bit further into the street and sat down, you watched the lonely vehicles roam the road. they seemed to go at the speed of light while you were stuck in slow motion. you sat there and watched the stars move in the sky, waited until the dark sky started to get painted with the few colors of the morning. you walked home, dropped back into your bed. you went through another day. and tomorrow? you'll go again, and again, and again.

you wake up a bit later than usual, it's already past 9pm. outside, the rumble of the city is starting to quiet down and leave space for the heavy silence of the night. you stretch your arms and turn around in your bed, face into your pillows and fluffy plushies that keep you company. it's so comfortable you don't want to get out, it feels so safe under your blankets and your pale blue bedsheets. but today you feel a little more energized when you see the last lights of the sunset outside. it rained for days, making it a very humid spring, and you didn't dare to step outside. you are sick of your place and you want nothing more than your favorite trip to the convenience store, and your evening on the bench you like so much.

you get up and pick up the clothes that lay on the top of the pile, they're your best choice for now. when you open the door to go outside, the soft warmth of the breeze makes you feel a little better, it's the small things that keep your soul alive and somehow keep you going. the air smells like rain and the pavement is wet from today's previous storm, but the sky is clear, you can almost count the stars. you walk down the streets and watch spring bloom around you, the vivid green leaves on the tree and the forgotten pink petals that already dropped to the ground, they fly everywhere when the cars pass by. little flowers and grass start to peak out of the cracks on the cement, revived by the sudden flow of rain of the last few days.

you push the glass door of the 24/7 store and the sleepy cashier barely greets you. you lower a little the volume of your music in your earphones just in case and grab you favorite snacks, and a drink to freshen up your body. the guy behind the counter mumbles something that sounds like a price and stuff all your things in a plastic bag. you head right away to your bench where you spent most of your evenings. on this bench you thought about everything, about your life, about changing your study subject, about going back to your parents' home, about what snacks you want the next day, about which night will be the last one. about finally falling asleep. about getting better. about being a hero and defeating all your troubles.

when you get closer to the bench, you notice there's someone sitting there. someone is taking up all the space and stealing your special spot. he leans against the bench, his arm rests on the back of it. his opened black zip up hoodie fall off his shoulder to reveal a white tank top that clings to him. his head is falling back facing the sky, so does his black hair flowing around his face and tickling the back of his neck. he brings a half burnt cigarette to his lips and it slightly lights up his face when he takes a long drag, he exhales the smoke with a sigh. next to him rests a bottle of peach soju that's almost empty, he probably has been sitting there for a while now.

you stay completely still for a second when you look at him, you don't know if you should walk away and find another place to sit or fight for your spot as if you owned the bench. you take a step closer and it catches his attention, he looks at you. his dark eyes are so deep you feel like falling, more intense even than the night swallowing the both of you. he locks his gaze into yours and grabs the bottle next to him, he brings it to his lips and drinks down a bit of it. you're mesmerized by the sight of his lips, the same color of the peach drawn on the alcohol bottle, the way he licks them to catch every drop of the burning liquid. when he puts down the bottle next to him, he finally makes the first move.

"what do you want?" his voice is surprisingly soft and a little shaky for the alcohol that courses his veins. he tried to sound threatening with those words but it came out a little weaker than expected. you look away from his dangerously addicting eyes and connect back to reality, the roaring sound of the cars driving by harshly bring you back to your place, standing by the bench with some guy sitting there.

"no um... that's where i usually sit but... i've never seen you–"

"just sit down then."

he takes away the peach soju that took place on the bench as his companion and he puts it at his feet. it allows you to sit down too. you really hesitate, sitting down next to a drunk man at night by yourself? but nothing in his attitude feels off, he doesn't seem tensed and the look you can remember in his eyes is one of someone utterly tired. you sit next to him as he lights up another cigarette, head now dropping lower as he rests his arms on his thighs. you stay at a safe distance from him and search inside your bag for your favorite box of chocopies, one of your earbuds out of your ear. just in case. you don't feel scared but you can never know.

the man next to you observe your moves while smoking, you can barely see his eyes behind the messed up black bangs that fall in front of his forehead. you bite down on your chocopie and almost choke on it when he speaks to you again.

"why are you here in the middle of the night?" you look back at him with big eyes, you're surprised he wants to strike a conversation with you. somehow even though you don't know each other, it feels like you're both there for the same reason.

"i can't sleep. what about you?"

"me neither. i was working."

"working?"

he sighs heavily next to you and takes a drag of his cigarette with closed eyes. wonbin wishes he was actually working before he decided to drink by himself on this bench to try to relax. the word feels heavy on his shoulders like a dead weight bringing him down. wonbin is failed choreographer, no matter how hard he tried it was just never enough against all the dancers he has met. not that he was bad, wonbin lived for the praises about his body control and the fluidity of his moves that got him to start creating choreographies at such a young age. but he was thrown a little too young in an industry where there's no pity for others and only competition. and when no one else takes a break, wonbin does the same until his body gives up. that's how he lost his job, and the next one also. his weakened limbs from staying up all night couldn't handle him during dance classes with different kind of artists, he was unable to teach and share what he created. he got pushed to the side, and long forgotten. all the people that praised him and wished for him to become a next generation leader gave him up and suddenly all the doors that opened when he was younger started closing one by one. until a kids dance academy became the last door and he had to go through it to survive and keep his passion alive. it's less tiring but also less fulfilling. so wonbin makes up for the lost time and still spends long hours at night creating moves and dancing for himself in hopes to one day, show them all what he is really like.

and now 2 years later, wonbin is still at this dance academy, barely making a living and so tired of this life. but he's just a tired person anyway, he can barely find any sleep at night so he just stays up and makes up choreographies until he can't keep going. with the kids, he doesn't need to be dancing all the time and he's allowed to rest. with time, his eyes just got sadder, gloomier like two wells of darkness. tonight, instead of twisting his body to music and trying to remember the new steps he just made up, he walked out, bought alcohol and sat down on the first bench he saw. he wanted to take the time to think about all the decisions he took in his life and how he ended up there, in an infernal loophole he couldn't even try to get out. he was too tired for that anyway. wonbin looks at you next to him, the way your eyes just seem as sad and tired as his, as if you had given up too, and somehow ended up sitting next to him past 3am, both wanting to forget about your current situation.

you both stay in silence, your music pulses in your ear and you open another bag of chocopie just as wonbin finishes his other cigarette. he grabs his bottle almost forgotten on the pavement and finishes the rest of the liquid. he then lays back against the bench with another sigh, one that tells you he wants your attention.

"it sucks, right?"

"what are you talking about?"

"life."

your hand that brings the snack to your mouth stills for a second then rests on your thigh.

"yea it does. it sucks bad."

"why?"

you see the glint of curiosity in his eyes when you look at him. it's the middle of the night and you're both there trying to drown your feelings into the wind created by the cars driving by, so why not open up? it's not like you'll see each other again anyway.

"growing up sucks. studying too, no matter how hard i try. getting out of bed sucks. my apartment sucks. i guess i suck too."

"i get that. i kinda suck too."

he brings yet again another cigarette between his pretty lips and his shaky hands struggle to turn on the lighter. he gives up and hands it to you with a knowing look, he just wants his relief so maybe you can help him out. you flash the lighter much easily than him and bring the flame close enough to burn the edge of his cigarette. his whole face lights up under the warm fire and shine with a golden tint, you can see the flame dancing in his eyes. he looks right at you before pulling back. you hand him his lighter and he blows out the smoke with a relieved noise.

"thanks. alcohol fucks me up."

"why do you drink then?"

"it makes it all more bearable."

you both sit in silence again, but you don't feel like eating your snacks anymore. questions burn your lips, you want to turn to him and talk about what's wrong in his life, you want to connect and share your struggles too. because with someone who understands, it makes life a little less hard. somehow, you're relieved to see you're not the only one, even though around you everyone seems so happy and strong. next to you on the bench is another person that's not a warrior, that forgot his armor and got wrecked by life too. he looks up at the sky when you turn your head to him, trying to count the pale dots disappearing with the artificial lights around you.

"i'm a failure. i did everything. i did so much it killed me. and when i couldn't keep going, i got pushed to the exit door. now life is boring, but at least i can keep doing what i like."

"what do you do?"

"i'm a dancer. always been."

when you think about it, he does look like someone that's dancing a lot. his features are sharp and you can tell his body is built from intense training from the way his tank top clings to him, you can see the muscles on his shoulders that peak out of his opened hoodie.

"is there a way to change things?"

"yes, but it's not my decision. so i'll wait i guess."

"i feel like i'm a failure too. i started studying but it wasn't interesting enough for me to keep going, i feel like i wasted everything in my life. now i can't get up or keep going. i can't sleep. it's–"

"it's hell."

you open your mouth to reply but you can't. he said the best words to match with your situation. a hell you're stuck in. after that, none of you speak again. you both feel a little better after sharing your demons with someone that will understand. it feels comforting. you check your phone and almost two hours passed by since you walked out of your apartment. you might need to go back and try to sleep a bit, your eyes feel heavy. you get up slowly and he shifts next to you, he looks at you with those same dark eyes.

"i'll go try to sleep a bit. thanks for talking."

"i'm wonbin by the way." he didn't stop looking at you and you stand there, your eyes lost into his for a very long second. you can't even control your voice when you tell him your name, it makes wonbin smirk very slightly you almost didn't see it.

"sleep well. if possible."

you look at him one last time then walk away, your feet taking you mechanically back to your apartment. behind you, wonbin gets up and gather his pack of cigarettes and his empty bottle, he watches you disappear in the street and walks the opposite way.

when you wake up the next, it's heavily raining. and the day after that too. it's only when the storm seems to fade by 2am two days later that you take your usual walk, umbrella secured over your head. it doesn't rain, but the sky is darkened by grey clouds that look very menacing. you get inside the convenience store for your snacks, and that's where you meet wonbin again. he looks just the same, black hair hidden under the hood of his hoodie but eyes still deep once they lock into yours. wonbin's lips turn into a small smile when he recognizes your face, and you let your umbrella rest on the side of the door. you greet each other silently with a simple nod, both looking for different things in the aisles. wonbin walks to the counter first with what seems like a strawberry alcoholic drink and some warm food that only waited to be taken. he looks back at you and wait until you drop your box of cookies next to his stuff, and he pays for all of it to the cashier who didn't even look up. things are thrown in a plastic bag and you plan on heading out first, but the rain got faster than you. big raindrops pour from the sky, and it's only a matter of minutes before the storm starts again, just enough for you to go home before getting drenched. you look back at wonbin.

"are you going home?" wonbin looks away a little awkwardly and steps back, resting his back against one of the aisle.

"usually yes, but i don't really have a place to go to tonight."

"oh."

outside, the rain gets louder, but the rhythm of it somehow stops the time. there's a long silence between you and wonbin where you feel like the droplets stopped falling and are now levitating around. the things around stopped existing too. the air is thick with a tension you don't understand, the silence rings into you ears, and as if every word is whispered, you can only hear your voice that resonates at the entrance of the store.

"do you want to come home with me?"

wonbin's heart drops lower than the ground, it's almost hard to swallow and wet his lips when he wants to answer you. he didn't expect it, he expected you to walk out and not see him again. you catch him so off guard with your question that wonbin doesn't know how to form a thought, he's worried the words will come out in the wrong order and all messed up. the nervousness that constricts his ribcage is a weirdly good one, he feels warmer and suddenly his wet hoodie isn't as damp as before. for a long second, wonbin wonders what to answer. should he say yes and follow you like a good puppy? should he tell you his friend threw him out tonight to have his family over, and none of his other friends are available to lend him a couch? how could he explain to you that he doesn't have a home at all, and everything is familiar yet lonely. you open your umbrella and wonbin stops zoning out, he just nods and comes to stand in front of you. you get under your transparent umbrella together and walk into the pouring rain.

your shoulders are wet in no time, you feel droplets falling down your back from how badly you're holding your poor umbrella against the wind. it's almost flying out of your hands. wonbin's hand wraps around yours, his palm is cold when he closes it around your fingers to take the control of the umbrella. his arm rests on your shoulders and he brings you closer to protect you from the rain. how romantic you think. you could see water dripping from wonbin's wet hair, down his nose and lips, down his neck and inside his hoodie. you guide him to your apartment and you feel uneasy at the thought of showing this not so random guy the mess behind the door.

when you make it to your building, both you and wonbin feel the coldness of the rain seep through your clothes. even wonbin's arm brushing your skin can't warm you up enough. you slowly realize you're about to let him inside your apartment, inside your safe spot and your secret place, along with all the forgotten clothes, the same snack boxes, way too much pillows and a fluffy blanket on top of your bed, shelves that start to become too dusty to even think about picking up a book. you sigh and unlock the door. you had left the window opened and your apartment is cool, the smell of rain strong.

you let wonbin inside and he closes the door behind him. he stays by the door for a while, he watches you rush around to turn on the little lamps scattered across your room, you push the mess away with your foot to try to hide it as much as possible. you walk inside your small bathroom and then hand a towel to wonbin for his wet hair, and he finally steps inside after taking off his probably damps shoes. wonbin ruffles his hair with the towel, he throws droplets of water around like a dog shaking its body. you find yourself a new outfit, your clothes uncomfortably stick to your body, but you have nothing for wonbin. maybe your blanket will be enough? you fold it and put it aside, you then try to make your bed look presentable.

wonbin looks around your place while he dries his hair. he isn't bothered by the mess, if he had his own apartment it would probably look the same anyway. he watches you stress over a pile of chocopie boxes and your clothes on the floor, he barely listen to your explanations of why things are there. he sits down on your bed and you push the folded blanket close to him.

"i dont have anything really... fresh for you to wear... but this will keep you warm i think."

wonbin nods and he opens the blanket to wrap his shoulders with it, it feels really soft and comfortable. it carries a scent of home and rain, a scent of you too but wonbin can't dissociate the smells. a mix of all of them reminds him of you. he puts down the towel and you walk out of your bathroom with dry clothes, you look at wonbin and he looks at you too. there's a long moment and only the rain that pours on your window is louder than the silence, along with the buzz of the heater your turned on when getting in. you feel highly aware of wonbin's presence in your apartment, and the state of it too. your shoulders drop a little in defeat. this is really your life. wonbin seems to notice it and he stands up.

"let's clean up." you look at him with big eyes, taken aback by his words.

"what are you saying..."

"i'm serious, let's clean up. we don't have anything else to do anyway, right? it's okay, i can help you."

and with that, wonbin puts down the blanket and places it on top of your bedsheets. he tugs on them and flattens them, he makes your bed, and he starts arranging your different pillows and your plushies. you stay rooted in place. there's no way wonbin is actually trying to make your miffy plush sit against a pillow, there's no way he's taking care of your stuff in your apartment right in front of you. when wonbin turns back to you, there's a soft smile on his lips, it illuminates his face. at that moment, he's more than beautiful to you, his hair sticks a little to his forehead, water still drips down his jaw, and his eyes carry the most comforting expression. so you nod, and start picking up the clothes you left on the floor, you don't even remember the last time you picked them up. wonbin then moves to the kitchen side of your place, he gathers the snack boxes and empty soft drink bottles to throw them away.

you do it all in silence, but it's not an awkward one. it's a comfortable silence, the one where you don't feel the need to speak to be understood. you fill your laundry machine and wonbin drops a trash bag by your door for later. you wash the dishes that piled up next to the sink while wonbin brooms around your room.

by the time you're both done, the rain stopped and the sun now starts to peak from behind the clouds, throwing pale pink lights from the window. you sit on your bed next to wonbin and you look around. it feels weird to see your apartment that way, it feels like it's not yours yet it feels like home again too. it's more bearable to be inside and you don't feel the pressure of your place looking like a mess anymore. it looks like your apartment when you started studying a few months ago, your folders are neatly resting against the wall on your desk, your shelves shine like new, your clothes are well folded inside your wardrobe. and next to you there's wonbin. his clothes are still damp but he isn't cold anymore, he radiates warmth and you feel drawn closer and closer, until your shoulder touch his arm.

"thank you. thank you so much. i don't think i would ever have had the strength to do that one day."

"you probably do, but it's easier to carry a burden when there's two persons." you look down at your hands until you feel wonbin's eyes on you.

"you know, i don't think i would have had the strength either. but we did it together and it's done now. does it feel better?"

"it does... thank you wonbin."

"thank you for letting me in."

wonbin's words stop the time again. you don't know what he means behind it. wonbin doesn't know either. he doesn't know if he's talking about you letting him inside your apartment or inside your hidden armor, inside your weak heart and your broken soul. you both look at each other and there's in your gaze something wonbin sees for the first time, it's more than just gratitude. you reflect him into your eyes. for the first time in a while, he doesn't feel like a failure, he feels important and valid, he feels seen too, unlike what the world outside sees.

wonbin rests his hand on your cheek, his thumb gently traces your jawline, and you freeze immediately. wonbin drags you a little closer and wraps his arms around you, he pulls you into a hug much needed for the both of you. he holds you so tightly you feel like he'll crush you but your arms are around his body just as tight. wonbin feels the need to hold you so close, he's scared you'll turn into smoke and disappear. if you vanish, he'll never feel his heartbeat dropping like it did when he looked at you again and it scares him. he's scared of a world when there isn't someone that will understand him, someone he can share his burden with. someone that opened the door for him while all the others where locked from the outside and pushed him into the light.

wonbin nuzzles his face against your neck, he rests his forehead on your shoulder and you mechanically brush your fingers into his messy and damp hair, you unstick the strands that cover his face. you don't let go when wonbin looks up and kisses you, your fingers wrap around his black locks just as wonbin presses his lips against yours a little more. it doesn't feel rushed, it doesn't feel weird, it seems to be just what you need and what wonbin needs. his hands grip your shoulders, you tug him closer by his hair and tilt his face to kiss him better. for some reasons, his lips still seem to taste like the peach soju he was drinking when you met him the first time.

one kiss turns into another one, and another until you lay next to each other in your freshly made bed, one of wonbin's arm lazily resting around your waist and your hand on his cheek. you can't tell if you even parted for air once, you feel like there's no other way to live than keeping wonbin's lips on yours. it's slow and warm, the way wonbin's fingers draw random pattern on your hip, the way his lips catch yours again and again, breathing against your mouth. you don't remember either when it stopped, when you just looked at each other in silence as the sun painted its light on your walls. all you remember is being wrapped in wonbin's arms when you finally fall asleep. a sleep you didn't have in months, a healing sleep as if wonbin is your medicine.

you wake up at daytime. it feels weird to not be always at night anymore. you and wonbin have been seeing each other a lot more during the day, you both try to make a new routine together that would help and create a healing path. wonbin was right, carrying a burden with someone else makes it a lot easier to bear. when wonbin is next to you, you feel a lot more powerful, more confident, like life is finally reachable. and more than anything, you love having wonbin next to you. you don't know if you love him. maybe not yet. or maybe just a little. enough to make you smile when you wake up next to him and let your fingers run on his bare shoulders. enough to make you tear up when he kisses you deeply as he pins you against your bed. enough to make you lose your mind when he's on top of you and his hair tickle your face or the skin of your neck.

but this time you don't have news of wonbin, and it's been more than 3 days. you walk outside and sit on the bench where you met the first time, the one bench that's still your special spot. wonbin isn't answering his phone, and you're slowly getting more and more worried. until there's a knock on your door past 2am.

in front of your door, wonbin looks awfully tired, he looks messed up, his eyes are empty and you can't read anything in them, as if the light died. his hands are shaking when he grabs your shoulders for stability, the scent of the peach flavored alcohol clings to him like a second skin. you guide him to sit down on your bed, you feel your heart racing with worry seeing him in this state. everytime you felt weak, wonbin held you up but now the roles are reversed. you want to help him like he helped you.

"i lost my job at the dance academy."

wonbin's voice breaks when the last words come out of his mouth, he finally lets the emotions overwhelm him and his breath chokes into a sob, his shaky hands cover his face as the tears flow from his eyes. out of all the dance teachers, they chose to get rid of wonbin because he has a chance to become someone. even when they promised to share wonbin's name to their contacts, to well known companies and self made choreographers, it didn't heal the wound they opened inside of wonbin's self confidence. he feels so stupidly scared of failing again. you just hold him tight as the feelings rush out of him until he has no more tears to shed, until he's tired of letting it all out. you kiss his temple and massage the back of his neck, your other hand holds his, you squeeze it from time to time to remind him that you're here. you're here for him.

"sorry for just... breaking down... it's good news somehow but it still... it still hurts so fucking bad..."

"you'll find something else in no time... you're talented and i believe in you."

"you do?"

of course you do and wonbin knows it. even if he does, he wants to make sure again and again, it feels so good for his poor heart to hear. there's finally a faint smile on his lips, he rests his head on your shoulder and squeezes your hand too.

"i think you've saved me, you know?" wonbin sits up and looks at you. you can finally see the little light in his eyes again. he wants to speak, but you keep going, your thumb brushing his skin.

"i wish i was a warrior with an armor so i could handle it all. it's hard to live. but i think you saved my life."

"we do our best. i'll do my best too."

"we can do our best together. after all, we're not warriors."