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writingbeclaws · 11 days ago

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AFRAID OF THE DARK, EMBRACING THE QUIET

Hyuk Kwon (Windbreaker Manhwa/Webtoon) x Reader Insert

Genre; Angst/Comfort, Fluff & General Relationship

Mentions of; stalking, violence, sexual intimacy & possessive behavior, readers engage with caution ⚠️

A/N; my first windbreaker fanfic <3 i tried my best to not make him out of character too badly & be accurate

Total word count; 5752 words

After living in the city for over a year without incident, all it took was one phone call for the peace of mind you built to fall apart completely…

It was late, far later than usual for Hyuk to be still with his crew after practicing - but Wooin had specifically invited you both, claiming Hyuk would only tag along if he was accompanied by his sweetheart and you could pick the spot. You couldn’t pin down Wooin’s hidden agenda but Hyuk had reluctantly agreed the same afternoon, groaning about leaving the apartment and sharing your attention when the cuddle date he imagined would be perfectly fine.

“Babe, the bed isn’t going anywhere. We can pick somewhere pricey, order extra dessert for leftovers and make Wooin drive… no complaints, not when we can turn this to our favor.” You know baiting a scheme perks his attention, and the two of you combined can convince Wooin.

“..... Devious. I like it.”

—-------------

Dating Hyuk Kwon is not for the faint of heart, but you didn’t fall for him because he’s easy to be with or that you had some expectation of a white knight fairy tale romance. After moving to Korea and beefing up your skill of the language to understand him, time and time again he dragged you into hare-brained late night escapades with him to see bike tricks and show off the city - something he did exclusively to make you more comfortable in a new place, as you’ve noticed he barely holds a conversation with anyone aside from you or Wooin.

It was surprisingly comforting to know Hyuk never needed extra fanfare or had expectations about your relationship together. He pursued what he liked as nonchalant as always, quiet, intentional, and unwavering - and being with him could be intense, as nothing stirred him up like your reactions when cornered and his lips dipping close, the pause you’d take when he lean in the doorway and watch you notice the gift left on the counter, or the cheesy smile that lit up your face when he’d sit at your side, offering a vending machine snack while bumping your knee. His careful schemes for physical contact, attention to detail and unwavering pursuit of your interests can charmed you well enough so far.

When he took time to learn your habits and expectations in romance, he was thrilled to learn you were easy to please, but difficult to impress. No one with minimum effort or low intelligence caught your eye, and you didn’t carve out any time between university classes to engage with him either unless he had crossed your path or texted you first. He never acted like the prize, and you had a hunch he would put in effort to value you after the initial honeymoon phase, as he was decisively obsessed and single-minded in his efforts. As much as he thought he orchestrated every encounter, or didn’t reveal his hand too early, you also found yourself infatuated and devised improvised ways to woo him back.

Every conversation was a devious push-and-pull between you too, and he could barely contain his overbearing excitement at someone so witty and attractive was giving him the time of day, reciprocating the build-up of affection and obsession. The first person to admit feelings would have the upper hand in the long run, and your stubborn nature was an invitation for Hyuk to push your buttons.

His lips curved into a smile and he scooted closer, shortening the distance between you as you were watching the sunset on campus. His skin was damp from washing off the sweat but his jacket hung open enough to tuck your hand next to, barely feeling his hand in his pocket over yours.

“You expect something from me?” You remark, knowing the impromptu race earlier was still humming in the air. “A compliment? You took the lead early and crushed everyone else completely…”

He’s quiet, but the barely contained excitement from his win is still coming off him in waves.

“You play dirty, but it’s something else to watch up close. No one has rivalled you yet.”

The air between you hangs tense, as you think to yourself, ‘No one rivals him in more ways than one.’

In response, he had the faintest smirk and rolled his shoulders back before leaning in close and picking up your hand.

“No one else compares, I promise you that.” His words were romantic, but his gaze was sharp and voice low - equivalent to the rumble of a predator whose presence speaks to their danger and capability. “I’ll let you find out… up close and personally, how unrivaled I can be for you.”

With little warning, he closes the distance further. Barely pausing before getting his lips on yours, grabbing the back of your neck with his other hand - after parting, he still keeps close, as if trying to breathe in the very essence of your stunning expression. You can’t even tell if he closes his eyes when he kisses, but you lean in again.

He took pride in making you smile or relieving your anxieties, all without the need for appraise. Although you always notice him in the peripheral, looming at your side from a pace away, just to gauge your reaction. You tell him as much, when he surprises you with an embrace from behind or when dropping you off with a snack slipped into your pocket and a tender kiss on the forehead. The silent but unwavering presence of him in your life helped temper your motivations to succeed and your appreciation for the small, intimate moments together - with you being busy with university and working, him with League of Street. You know he has your back, having acted as your deranged guard dog more than once during rowdy fan stampedes at League of Street matches or when other cyclists approach either of you in public. His involvement in shadier parts of the race didn’t go over your head, and while he never opened up on the details, you had made it clear he was always to come back to you in one piece and without hesitation, let you care for him.

—---------------- to the restaurant scene…

At dinner, he slid into the seat next to you, letting you sit on the edge but remaining close - shoulders together, a hand on your thigh protectively. While Wooin talks, you nod a hello to Vinny and Joker across the table politely. You think they’re nice enough from the handful of times you’ve met, and the rare tidbits you can glean from Hyuk himself (once in a blue moon, while he’s half asleep and buried in your arms after the day is over.)

Now that it’s been over a year together, every movement of his is reflected in yours. Everyone notices how complimentary you two are, balancing each other and acting in sync. His hands pass your menu before his own, and he turns the menu in his hand over, so you can read both sides simultaneously right next to each other.

It’s unspoken but profound, the consideration he takes for you daily, in every moment. It makes your heart sing, that he thinks of you, even unconsciously - and the subdued smile on your face over it doesn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the table.

—-------------

During League of Street, Hyuk and the rest of Sabbath have ridden in matches that highlight their brutal but efficient style - when Hyuk first told you about their participation and the increase in demand for his time, you cursed Wooin for doing shady shit before even knowing if they were involved in illicit activities during the race.

You weren’t stupid. A widely popular sport, plenty of unrecognized athletes eager to prove themselves and a cash prize on the line, all televised and endorsed? Ample opportunity for unseen chaos and exploitation.

“I swear, if anything gets Hyuk in trouble or gods forbid, actually hurt, Wooin - I’ll skin you and strangle you with your own guts.”

You’ve been pacing in your living room for twenty minutes while Hyuk is showering, and Wooin invited himself into the apartment for snacks and rest after practicing. Despite nodding along and murmuring assurances, Wooin hasn’t glanced up from his phone once or paused his snacking.

Hyuk tolerates Wooin around you, but has warned him against riling you up unnecessarily (when Hyuk has to calm your frustrations alone, and Wooin encourages him to relax you… unclothed and in the sheets after Wooin’s stupid comments or pranks during the day.) It’s no word of a lie to say Hyuk is one of the most possessive men you’ve ever met.

While you worry occasionally, you trust Hyuk to take care of himself the same way. The image of a gristled alley cat with intelligent bright eyes and a Halloween grin of gleaming teeth comes to mind when you hear his Grim Reaper nickname, and Wooin has counted on Hyuk’s reputation keeping him from danger so often, you might be the only one to see Hyuk as he is. Just one person.

A person so precious to you, and near to your heart. As objective as you want to be, League of Street could open the door to trouble in unforeseen ways.

—--------------

Hyuk’s team, Sabbath, are experienced cyclists so you’ve met Joker and Vinny after Wooin cornered you and Hyuk on dates and introduced you in the brief respite from Hyuk trying to drag you away from attention again. With barely a giggle, you notice all of Sabbath has the same dangerous but alluring pretty boy look as ever, something Wooin and Hyuk share too. Unbeknownst to them, you have a running count of how often people pause and stare at them in public, which was amusing until their newfound popularity meant trying to fend off adoring fangirls trying to grab Hyuk.

Eyes narrowing, you clench your teeth as Hyuk wrestles his jacket arm away from a hoard of giggling Sabbath groupies next to him and Wooin. His face is scowling as Wooin laughs again and tries angling phone screens to capture Hyuk and his new entourage. From across the parking lot, your dual storm cloud auras met and without so much as a word, Hyuk and you move in sync.

Within a second flat, you’ve muscled through the group and Hyuk drops his head down to meet your lips, your hands in his hair and tangled in his shirt collar while he’s white-knuckling his helmet and creeping a hand under the back of your shirt. The girls are exclaiming and Hyuk deepens the kiss before pulling off you and dragging his tongue across your cheek.

Wooin can only watch horrified, slack-jawed, as you drop your hands from Hyuk and put your own hands under your own shirt, pulling a scrap of pink lace away from your body and wrapping it around Hyuk’s wrists. Hyuk’s delighted face and your faint blush indicates the pink lace is, in fact, a bralette that he had sneakily undid while groping your back.

“Holy fucking shit, what did… did we all see that happen?”

“Is she insane?”

“How shameless! In public, no less.”

With Hyuk’s hands together and your hand in his back pocket, you spin around and tow your boyfriend away while flipping off the group, Hyuk cackling and urging you to let him throw you up over his shoulder.

God help anyone who fucks with the two of you.

—------------

But for all the dazzling light of your relationship, there are the shadows that creep in from the edges.

It’s been a few days since the pointing match where Sabbath had come in fourth place. The egotistical Hwangyeon of Ghost Crew had secured first. Watching the match had you white-knuckling the rails where you stood and forgetting to breathe until your lungs gave out.

Hyuk’s cycling has always blown you away. It isn’t unique, seeing as Sabbath fans flood the venue every race in League of Street.

Ducking out of the convenience store with an armful of goodies, you were eager to get back to the apartment and set up a pillow fort for Hyuk’s weekly movie nights. It was an awesome idea to spend time together and still have innocent fun… even if Hyuk insisted on horror movies way past sunset so he could unnerve you into his lap.

At the edge of your vision, you see a trio of familiar white jackets. Racking your brain for answers, you feel a chill up your spine when you spot Hwangyeon pull up next to them in a sports car and they start cackling and pointing towards you.

Ghost Crew. League of Street, Sangho’s lackeys.

(Not as if your own loyalties were entirely blame-free and uninvolved. Wooin has made sure of that.)

White jackets. Blue skull accents. Haunting laughter and jeering faces.

You try to push the unease off your back as you race home, nearly face-planting twice. Anything to put distance between you and them.

—------------

“What do you think of the semi-finals? There are so few teams left, but I can’t see anyone else in the finals but you guys.” You remark, eager to steer the conversation away from Joker’s younger brothers. A few minutes prior….

Everyone is at your apartment for a hot pot, in preparing ingredients and measuring spices, Wooin and his big fat mouth has soured the mood for everyone after a few choice comments. Wooin thinks Hyuk is getting too domestic with you and it will cut his edge down before the races. At least that’s how Hyuk took it when Wooin said,

“You got Hyuk cooking and cleaning lately huh? Training him up to be your housewife after the races?”

“Wooin, he’s always happy to help me. He’s my favorite everything.” You scoff. “You could learn a thing or two about cleanliness and attitude, and there’s no shame in being self-sufficient.”

You glimpse Vinny turn away, a mixed expression on his face. Frowning, you continue,

“I’m proud to say my boyfriend excels at everything he does. You all have exceptional talent, but Hyuk takes the trophy in my eyes. No question.”

His hands find your hips and he pins you to the counter in a flash. His eyes drag up your body, and stop at your face before he leans in for a cheeky kiss to your temple.

“Hyuk, you shouldn’t yank me around like that… people are here.”

Wooin fakes an obnoxiously loud gag, and Joker pretends to examine his drink closely. As Hyuk steps back, Wooin continues,

“I know we’ll make it to finals, because no one else measures up to us. I want to ensure there are no distractions while we beat the snot out of the competition.”

“Affection and support aren’t distractions, Wooin. You’re emotionally constipated and bitchy on your best days.” You take Hyuk’s hand and kiss his knuckles quickly.

“You guys are so lovey-dovey.” Joker pipes up in a moment of surprising verbal expression.

Wooin latches on the chance to show how bitchy he can be.

“Yeah, lovey dovey like you and that damn fleabag during the race. Hope your brothers take care of that mutt so you can show up to practice.”

You squeeze Hyuk’s fingers unconsciously. Wooin is a handful, but you see him clearly as you see Hyuk, and you know who he is. What he’s faced.

No excuse for being so mean-spirited all the time. Time to broach the subject with Hyuk, seeing about tempering Wooin’s attitude because you do like him. Wooin and Hyuk are nearly inseparable, and the duo has been a huge part of your life in Korea.

If only that was enough to curb the eerie feeling you’ve had lately…

—------------

Hyuk hates letting you go anywhere alone, and insists on biking to your university classes to escort you or making Wooin pick you up and chauffeur you around on a whim.

Since your run-in with Ghost Crew, you’ve put up less of a fight about it and shared your location at all times. But alas, it happens again. A handful of white jackets and blue skulls. Never more than fifteen feet away. If only for a few minutes, leering at you and whistling, or dead quiet and staring you down.

They sped past on bikes, whizzing close to your face and howling like banshees. You shrug your bag up your shoulder higher and cuss at their backs.

—----------

“You’d do anything for me, right?” The question spills from you before you can clamp your lips and swallow down the thought.

It’s almost dead quiet in your apartment, you and Hyuk tangled in the sheets together. Movie night ended with you both distracted and handsy, letting the credits roll and the next film to start without so much as a glance as you were both occupied. Hyuk whispers at you, egging on your fear and annoyance from the film’s jumpscares as he pins you down with one hand and ghosts his other fingers across bare skin, chasing the goosebumps on your flesh.

In his blurry eyed, half-asleep response, he’s still laser-focused on you. You.

You. Always you.

“Without hesitation. Why?” Hyuk’s hands tense on you. “I’d crawl under your skin if you’d let me.”

“Nothing. Just gauging how obsessed you are.”

“I’m not doing this over again with anyone else. If you doubt me,” He barely vocalizes, mouth against your shoulder, twirling fingers into the sheets near you.

You laugh. “No one else gets you. Not a chance.”

“I just want to hear it sometimes. Not that you ever make me doubt. But I like knowing my boyfriend is my scary dog privilege and protector and my biggest headache too.”

“All in one, huh?” You feel his smile on your skin and reach behind you to ruffle your fingers in his hair.

“Yes, darling. You’re all of it in one. Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

—-------------

The semi-finals are tense as you kiss Hyuk’s helmet and send him off to the starting line with a pat on the ass and a lump in your throat.

You don’t recognize any faces on the other side of the track, where Ghost Crew loiters and gears up. An icky cold feeling creeps up your spine as you see the jackets and feel their gaze on you.

You’re overreacting to this. People get nervous at large-scale events like this, and surely they know you from League of Street - you and Hyuk aren’t subtle after that bra handcuff display went almost viral.

Then you see Hwangyeon smirk at you and nod back at his lackeys. You cover up the urge to vomit in your mouth and turn away before seeing the reaction.

From Hwangyeon, who looks like he just smelt blood in the water.

And unknown to everyone, the reaction of your boyfriend. Who looks like someone just announced open season on Ghost Crew’s riders and handed him a free ticket to mayhem.

—------------- back to the restaurant from earlier….

Living in Seoul for almost two years, you’ve picked up a good portion of written Korean as well as spoken and always feel accomplished in your progress. Nothing replaces speaking your mother tongue though.

When your phone lights up with a contact from your dear friend, you dislodge your hands from Hyuk’s and swipe open your phone.

“I’ll just be a minute. She’s calling because she knows we’ve been on TV during League of Street.”

“Babe… you have to leave?” He’s barely pretending to be non-chalant due to the physical strain of the race the day before. Your heart pangs, knowing how hard he cycled to crush Hwangyeon and Ghost Crew.

“Hyuk, I’m stepping out for a few seconds, promise I’ll be just fine.”

He nods once while Wooin coos at you, making some smart comment about watching you leave and appreciating the view. Hyuk knows what you like, and he’ll handle ordering for you when the time comes.

Putting the phone to your ear and stepping outside into the cool air of night, you smile at the thought of hearing from your friend. Picking universities halfway across the world has pulled you apart from each other in distance, but you’re still as close as ever.

“Girl, you know all of Korea is talking about Sabbath Crew and Hummingbird’s lineup - I don’t even follow cycling and now I’m hooked!” She’s loud and barely contained in your phone from the get-go.

“Your man is talented, but gods, is he not red-carded for roughhousing? People could get hurt in a blink.”

“He’s intense, I know. I can’t pretend to control that, he always rides like hell on his back.”

“Wow.”

“He likes the thrill. I’m glad he’s got something to be passionate about, y’know? He cares about my university stuff all day too, and he barely dozes off or pretends to listen - it’s nice having someone equally as clever to match me.”

You feel the heat crawl up your face in a blush. She’s milking this to make you embarrassed.

“Equally as clever, but he licks your face on screen. Don’t think we didn’t catch you patting his ass every race and groping him every chance. Shameless behavior from you both.”

“I don’t even care. He brings it out in me, I’m territorial and he’s one hell of an athlete. He’s got great shape.”

“Yuck, yuck. I don’t wanna think of his great shape all over you constantly.” She’s laughing as hard as you are.

As you talk, you wander down the block to move your legs and keep moving. Your eyes take in the sidewalk, the street signs and shop fronts as you mindlessly continue.

“But he takes care of you? Can he express himself well, cuz I can totally kick the snot out of him from here - I’ll learn hexes and energy transfer physics and -”

“He’s the best ever. I can’t see myself without him actually.” You keep gushing over him for a few minutes more.

The streetlights above you hum with electricity as you meander further down the street, nearly skipping with all the conversation. She’s updating you about her classes, and the family drama as always. The sound of her voice lifts you from the mood you’ve had.

A drop of water from above pulls you from the happy stupor. It’s gonna start drizzling soon.

“Hey, it’s gonna sprinkle here, lemme make my way back while you talk.” She gives a verbal yes, before telling you to get back carefully.

The world goes from cozy and warm-lit to pitch black and icy in a single breath.

—-----------

The feeling of being watched closes around you again, an icy chill like the hands of the dead reaching around your wrists and pinning you by the throat.

Your friend is still talking on the phone, and although you’re humming and nodding, she asks if you’re alright. Your eyes scan the shadows and every corner in the surroundings, but you can’t see anything.

“I think everything’s good, keep talking… I’m probably fine.”

“Well, that’s entirely convincing… probably fine from what? Are you out here alone, at night? It is night in Seoul, right, damn time zones… Hun?”

You can’t shake the feeling of your hairs standing up. Are you imagining the sound of footsteps?

You swear you hear breathing to your left…

“Babe- you alright?” Her voice sounds a million miles away, like you’ve been pulled underwater.

Hands shaking, you feel like the air gets thinner as your throat closes up. A flicker of the street lamp above grabs your attention and when you look back forwards, you shriek.

Skull mask and white jacket. More than one. In the mouth of an alley ahead, three figures step forward and turn to you in silence.

You stumble back, hearing the line go dead and beep on your screen. Trying to backtrack, you keep retreating.

Only to hit a mass behind you. Hands snatch your wrists and the phone drops instantly.

“We aren’t here to get violent, pretty girl. Just here to get even with Sabbath.” The voice behind you feels like oil slick on the skin, crawling over you and suffocating every ounce of control.

You aren’t being rational now, you’re scared and backed into a corner. With a swing of a bat, the lights overhead go out in a spray of glass.

You can’t see. You can barely breathe.

Why did you wander so far? Why leave the restaurant at all?

The hands behind you shove you forward, and you can’t brace before hitting the ground. Hard.

Eyes watering, you hear someone whimper. Maybe.

You are. You’re whimpering and trying to hold back the tears.

With every thought racing in your head, you think that Ghost Crew is known for shadows and using the dark to torment people. However you survive this, you can’t be sure who Hyuk finds later is the same girl who left for a phone call.

Someone else grabs you up and shoves you back, hitting another body. You hear a laugh, feel the embrace of someone strong and fly forward again.

They don’t let you fall again, but you can’t stumble more than a few steps in any direction before being grabbed again and thrown around. More laughter and you hear someone spit near your direction.

It’s a game.

They’re breaking your will and it’s just a game to them.

You’ve never felt so isolated and afraid in your whole life. The fear of who lurks in the dark has blackened the little left of your vision and just when you think your eyes adjust to the lack of light, amidst the tears and jerking wildly. A few words are exchanged between the attackers, but you can’t make out the meaning, just the noise at this point.

Your heartbeat is pounding in your ears.

*BOOM*

Multiple flashes of light erupt next to your face and you catch glimpses of horrific distorted faces hanging above you.

Masks. They’re swinging phone flashlights and jumping into the beams of stray light wearing skull masks and grotesque paints.

You feel another scream bubble up. It’s enough to make your knees give out.

Despite your attempts to flee or break the circle with a swing or blind kick, they’re outmuscling you at every chance - you feel as if the torment will never end.

What would you do if you never made it back to Hyuk?

—-------------- back at the restaurant…. Hyuk's POV

Hyuk has ordered your food and chatted with Wooin long enough. Vinny is trying to slide out of his seat and go home early, while Joker stuffs his face with appetizers.

You promised to be a minute, but he knows sometimes you get carried away. In your efforts to be less scatter-brained, you often become more entangled in your tasks and forget to care for yourself entirely.

Anyone in Sabbath can attest that Hyuk is single-mindedly obsessed with you. No question. With no regard for how it is perceived, Hyuk has captured your heart, learned your habits, and rooted himself in your life permanently - no take backs, no do overs, no goodbyes.

He keeps drumming his fingers on the table, fighting the urge to glance to the door for the seventh time in five minutes. He feels irritation climbing up his body when he can’t see you or keep tabs on your expressions.

His phone is pulled up to show your location. You’re barely a block away but his instincts hammer the same message to him.

Just go collect her and bring her back to the restaurant. Collect her. Go get her, bring her to your embrace again.

Wooin tilts Hyuk’s phone with a chopstick and laughs.

“She’s been gone all of five minutes. You have no trust in her?”

Hyuk frowns.

He trusts her with anything. His whole life even.

He trusts that if she asked him too, he’d lay his very heart at her feet and let her lick the blood from his hands before he crumbled - she’d never have a reason to doubt him.

Before he can rationalize the answer, he’s spoken aloud.

“I trust her. I don’t trust everyone else.”

He pushes the plates closer to the middle, arranging yours next to his, chopsticks and utensils mirrored next to one another. Perfect symmetry. A pair of pairs, perfectly balanced and complementary.

Fuck this. He’s not right unless you’re right next to him.

—-------------- Your POV

The world is closing in as you fail to take a single breath. Between the jeering of the assailants, the dancing flashlights, masks and fear coursing through you, it seems entirely hopeless you’ll ever make it out of this.

You’re nearly hyperventilating with sobs as you try to make out the voice above you between the kicking and spitting.

“Stupid Sabbath and their fuckass cheerleader. We wouldn’t have changed if not for that idiot prick Vinny or Wooin - selfish bastards.”

“Our crew was the best. Then you lot got involved, and the big man suffered as a result.”

“This ain’t a forgive and forget type of night, sweet thing. You understand how hard we fell after that loss and your stupid boyfriend was part of it.”

You haven’t been able to speak a word since getting grabbed, teeth clicking together in total fear, knees weak and hands shaking.

The fear and shame you feel bubbles up higher. The light rain on your skin makes you ice cold.

In the distance, you hear someone shout. A second voice joins him.

The air changes, and the guys surrounding you falter for a moment before dropping you like a sack of stones and turning tail. Everything aches and you curl up, hoping to disappear until you can recover from what happened.

The flashlights disappear and the world swallows you up in pitch black again.

—--------------- Hyuk's POV

Hyuk takes the alley through the left to follow your location, barely listening to Wooin and Vinny as he marches to your phone ping.

He hears shouting and laughing in the opposite direction, but he grumbles loud so Sabbath falls behind him without a word. Turning the corner, his blood runs cold as he sees what’s happening.

In the shadows before him, the street is empty save for four mysterious figures standing over a girl crumpled on the ground. Someone spits and the sound that escapes you is heart-wrenching.

He knows your voice. What happened?

Joker moves without warning, sprinting towards you alongside Hyuk - barely registering that he’s charging forward without cognition. Wooin and Vinny come up right behind once they recognize the situation. Within seconds, the attackers are fleeing and Vinny almost has one by the hair.

Hyuk’s vision is closing in on you. On the ground, shaking with tears and drowned in terror. With barely any moonlight, he can’t make out your face as he drops to his knees with his arms out. His hands lift you with urgency and he drags you to his chest, desperate to shield you.

“Baby, it’s over. I’m here now.”

You thrash wildly as soon as he touches you, letting out desperate cries before your body recognizes him. It takes you all of a second to drop your head into his shoulder and collapse into his embrace.

“I’ll kill them. After you get home, I’ll end them. Just ask.” Hyuk can’t believe the desperation and fear in his own voice.

“Breathe.” His voice is like a balm to your panic.

“I’ll never let anything touch you. Breathe.”

The rest of Sabbath stands as a barrier to the whole world as Hyuk rocks you back and forth. Wooin grabs his keys, and wordlessly sends Vinny to grab his motorcycle. Joker shrugs off his oversized jacket and drops it over your shoulders silently.

Everyone can feel the suffocating aura off Hyuk as he soothes you, vibrating with an urge to decimate the enemy and protect you from the terror.

It takes him a few minutes to swallow his own fear and lift you off the ground. Until he gets you away from here, he can’t gauge your state of mind or push down the fear of what he let happen to you. You cling to him like a lifeline as he stands upright, his hand cradling your jaw and neck as he holds you tightly to him.

His arms are braced around you like iron, keeping you from crumbling again. His breath is barely steady as he murmurs more words of comfort, and he wants you to understand his desire to protect you comes first.

His feral desire to ease your pain and bring you back in one piece, like a guard dog coming to his flock, blood on the mouth but tamed and eager to please. He’d tear to pieces anyone who looked at you wrong. As much as he wants to spill blood and crush those who hurt you, you’re in no state to be alone.

“You with me? Let’s get you home.”

Your voice shakes as you try answering, a pathetic whimper of what sounds like his name. His heart clenches again.

As Wooin approaches, Hyuk snaps his head to see him open the car doors and move out of the way. Equally pissed off, Wooin’s jaw is clenched and his hands close into fists.

Hyuk lets Wooin look you over soundlessly and hum in annoyance before you settle into the backseat, Hyuk still at your side. Since getting into the front seat, Wooin keeps his gaze on you both in the rearview mirror.

“Wooin will get us home, okay? Let’s end this night at the apartment where you can rest.” Hyuk is trying to get you to open your eyes or bring your face away from his chest. You’re shaking so hard, he can scarcely tell if you’re using your lungs at all.

Vinny is pursuing it now. Joker’s also gonna stay until it’s settled, then we can reconvene in the morning. They’ll answer for this. -

Hyuk’s phone pings in his pocket, message unread. Wooin is also ready to pummel whoever to answer for what happened to you, without question. Hyuk’s attention hasn’t strayed from you since. Damn everyone who ever wronged you.

Damn the ignorant filth who laid their hands on you. Tormented you as retaliation for League of Street - once he can find those responsible, the Grim Reaper will lay waste to anything in his way of vengeance.

In the quiet of the night, you’ve embraced Hyuk and brought him a joy he’s never thought he was capable of. To protect that, what you’ve made together, he’ll do anything.

Anything.

He’ll show them to be afraid of the dark.

A/N; jesus I never expected to write this much, please let me know how it turned out - I'm sooooooo nervous to get back into writing tbh. See if you can notice the easter eggs I put in there, because Wooin can't tell if he wants in between you and Hyuk or if he's just petty he's single and you aren't 😉

dividers by @strangergraphics & @saradika-graphics

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writingbeclaws · 11 days ago

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A lit candle is a tiny, flickering animal standing on top of all the food it will eat in its lifetime.

A candle is a leash.

They let us tame an ancient, devouring force of nature, older than life, and stick it in a little jar on the shelf.

A candle is a pet god.

If you whisper a secret to a candle flame, then all fire everywhere will know that secret.

The words will crackle in every campfire and churn like an ocean deep in the belly of the Earth.

Fire will translate your words to smoke and ash, telling no one but the sky.

[poems from The Haunted Forest trilogy by Jarod K. Anderson]

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writingbeclaws · 11 days ago

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"IT WAS ONLY SUPPOSED TO BE A ONESHOT!!!" i scream, desperately clawing at the floor, as the fic drags me back into The Depths to continue writing against my will for the rest of eternity

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writingbeclaws · 13 days ago

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mentality as of late

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writingbeclaws · 13 days ago

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Wooin Yoo (Windbreaker Manhwa/Webtoon) x Reader Insert

Genre; Fluff/Comfort, Humor, General Relationship, Suggestive & Smidge of Angst (sue me, I love angst)

Mentions of; Grief, childhood trauma, sexual intimacy, sex toys, marriage, possessive behavior & Wooin's bitchiness is his own warning tbh, readers engage with caution ⚠️

A/N; the art of the red dress on the far right is sourced by pinterest, credited to Danny Galieote, Wooin might be catching feelings, reader has been near celibate for YEARS and wooin ruins all her dates, I stand by the belief that each reader is some flavor of "easy to please, hard to impress" before the windbreaker boys can tap that, heavy on friends to idiots to lovers - each of them thinks the other deserves better

Total word count; 4993

After a year of living with Wooin, you’d expect to be used to his antics by now. Late night gaming, leaving dirty dishes in the sink, conveniently leaving a trail of clothes in the hall to his bedroom after a hookup…

The list of grievances Wooin had failed to rage bait you with is getting long, and although you remain pleasant and gracious like it never bothers you (which aggravates Wooin to no end,) he’s failed to realize that you’re aware of his scheming. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you worked up and visibly frustrated.

He’d likely pop a boner if you yelled at him, god forbids, actually hit him in annoyance. Freak.

As thankful as you were that he let you move in, you would not encourage his poor attention-seeking behavior or womanizing habits. Not a chance you end up another notch on his belt. As sexually frustrating as it is to have him in close proximity and vying to impress you- seeing as he’s incredibly attractive, wealthy enough for this three bedroom apartment, athletically gifted, clever, and showering you with meaningless gifts- you’re having a hard time choosing dates or being interested in men.

Not as if Wooin has made it easy on you. Anytime you get a number, plan a date, or introduce yourself with romantic intention to anyone in your immediate vicinity - poof! Wooin drops by, steps in, makes it impossible on you to get anywhere with your choice of date candidate.

Fucking insufferable. You like Wooin behaved, docile, and goofy like always, but you can’t stand his need to bend-and-go, cum-and-dash no-strings-attached mindless sex type of intimacy, not directed at you now. His easy-going personality, sensation and stimulant seeking behavior, witty, determined mindset makes him good at what he does, no doubt. That’s why girls flock to him and drop like flies for his charms. Ridiculous really, how easily he pulls attention and keeps them all hooked by scraps of his interest in them (or rather what they can offer him.)

So you give up on dating while living with Wooin, and focus on your work, your studies. The less time you have to mope, the easier it’ll be to ignore the growing heat between your legs and desperate need for release.

—---------- Approx 2 months pass…

It’s been half a year since Wooin stopped bringing dates to your shared place. You notice it only after eavesdropping outside the kitchen while he splits soju with his crew. The quicker they pre-game, the quicker they leave, you’ll be able to cook your dinner and put on the rom-com you’ve been craving on the big screen in the living room.

You feel your spine tingle with the realization. Not a chance he’s celibate, but he hasn’t brought anyone home for a hookup, serious or otherwise. Without so much as taking another breath, you sneak back down the hall to your room.

Only when you shut the door behind you, do you let out a shaky inhale.

—---------

While suppressing the physical urges of partnership pleasure, you’ve thrown yourself into work friendships and career goals - making you fulfilled in that way. You’ve been highly successful and validated by co-workers and supervisors alike.

One such co-worker has become like a sister to you. You’ve had Rumi over several times over the last few months for wine slushie and movie marathons, paint-and-sip activities, and other domestic downtime. She’s unequally unimpressed by Wooin’s attitude about womanizing, and he doesn’t really like being in the apartment at the same time if he can help it.

He never fails to look you up and down, grumble with his lollipop hanging from his mouth, and make a beeline for the door when Rumi comes over, but he’s not controlling enough to ban her from being over. Small victories.

Tonight is different. He’s in the kitchen with his two friends - whom you’ve only seen a handful of times. The tall one is polite and mild-mannered, but built like a tank - from what you know about Wooin’s side hustles, Joker is the muscle of the operation and fights in underground matches. The eerie one is Hyuk, a shadow to Wooin while cycling - Hyuk is less sociable to you but still respectful in his own way. Perhaps growing up with each other has allowed them to encourage each other’s less tasteful habits.

You’re occupying the living room with Rumi for the night, busying yourself with a half-abandoned card game, glasses of wine for you, soju for her, and the TV playing music. Over the course of an hour, you and Rumi go from mock karaoke battles to the card game and back to hushed gossiping. It’s a breath of fresh air to let loose for a long weekend.

“So, with some time off, what are your plans? Got any hot dates lined up?”

Oh, Rumi, you can barely contain the urge to spill everything you’ve been biting down lately. With time off means no work, and without work, you let the urge to wrestle someone into bed take root deeper and deeper. If you don’t stay busy, you’ll let your mind wander to dirty fantasies and risque ideas.

You’ve been untouched for ages, and the heavy petting-over-clothes, dry humping makeout paradise has been far and few between thanks to Wooin’s meddling, much less actual sexual relief in the hands of a partner.

You laugh nervously and scoot closer to her.

“Oh, I am getting trade secrets here? Tell me everything.” She’s grinning and yanking her arm to get you closer.

“Listen, listen - it’s not for a lack of trying but I figured I’d focus on my career right? Throwing yourself into the job leaves no room for…. distractions.”

“I’m an attractive girl with a healthy libido, and my family wants me to settle down and really make some long-term goals to get them grandkids,” you say, “But I’m only in my mid-twenties. I didn’t figure dating would be this hard.”

“I feel that.”

“My romance plans are shot, thanks to my roommate you-know-who.” You gesture silently to the kitchen doorway.

“But as for actual sex? My only consistent partner has been my ‘boyfriend with batteries’ in my bedroom drawer.”

She guffaws and throws her head back in laughter. You’re not so annoyed as you want her to keep her voice down, and suppress your giggles too, but the alcohol is making all the embarrassment flow away.

“It’s not funny. I’m not built for casual no-strings fun and I sure as shit can’t do hookups without feelings involved.”

“God damn. You need to get this straight and either set boundaries with Wooin or get the hell out.”

“It’s not Wooin! He’s nice to look at, he’s generous, but he’s not my type.”

‘I think he’s not.’ Too many close calls with his shameless behavior, flirting, and tense, low whisper conversations about your taste in men has left you rattled around Wooin, much more so with his habit of ‘checking in’ often, shirtless from showering or breathless from cycling home that makes your imagination spiral into dangerous places.

“Not your type? You seem to be right on the path to driving him crazy. All those bedroom eyes and teasing,” she whispers.

“Listen, I’m not going to delude myself into thinking he’s the serious to settle down type, or that I’m on his dating radar at all - if I fell for him, I’d get myself hurt in the end.”

“Boo you whore.”

Giggling again, she makes an obscene gesture with her hands and points to your crotch.

“You don’t got to marry him to test drive that dic-”

“Oh my god!” You want to pretend you didn’t hear that. Your mindscape is riddled with desperation for companionship, but your outward behavior demonstrates unwavering control over your reactions to… appealing stimuli. Wooin is the most trying of those stimuli, and knowing he finds you attractive is crumbling your resolve to defend your celibacy.

“Rumi, you don’t even like him as my roommate, what’s with all this tonight?”

She rolls her eyes and takes another swig.

“You deserve the best. And he could be a good boyfriend if he shaped up for you. I know you’re close but you hold him at a distance sometimes, like you don’t trust yourself to have nice things.”

She’s not wrong. Before starting over in the city, you had a completely different perspective on your future and who you’d share it with. Cue the angst, you feel the lump in your throat again.

“Another night I’ll tell you everything, Rumi. I just have no idea if romance is meant for me at all.”

—----------

Rumi and a few other girls from work drop you off at the apartment, opening the door carefully and guiding you inside with a stumble. Heels hanging off your wrist and hair mused, your night has come to a close with less decorum as when you left.

Halfway home from the bar, your inebriated stumble left your tights torn and your makeup smudged as the pack of you took detours home to chase a cat, sit on the playground swings, and compare snacks you hid on the way out of the club - Rumi tied with Becca for most cocktail shrimp hidden in a bra.

You barely realize how loud your giggling is until the light turns on and Wooin steps forwards into the hall.

“You’re a mess. I could smell booze and bad decisions from the moment you opened the door.”

He looks annoyed with you.

“You’re like an escaped hyena dressed in glitter body spray. Go to sleep, I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

“Awwww Woo-bear, bring me some water, could you? My head’s killing me.”

He turns with a disgusted expression, but in the time it takes for you to get to your room, he’s at the doorway with a glass of water and some pills. He’s got a towel over his arm like a concierge, or your very own fuckboy butler from hell.

With the shoes launched somewhere and your top half-way over your head, you nearly fall over in an undignified heap.

His hands catch you around the waist instantly. Warm palms on your bare skin, his voice low as he asks to help you.

“You’re gonna snap your neck, swinging around like this. Let me help.”

“I’m just stuck in the top. I need a moment.”

The words come to you like molasses, ever slow and far away in your mind, but you’re sobering up quickly now that you’re home.

Sobering. Control. Deep breaths, take the mental space back to control, think rational thoughts - with rationality.

His hands.

Fucking hell, his hands are on your skin. Wooin is a mere arm’s length away from you, helping undress you while you’re whining in the dark.

This is not how you expected tonight to end.

After your mind blue-screens for a solid minute, your vision returns when the shirt comes off and you see Wooin fold it back from inside out and hand it to you. The room spins as you take it from him, his hand not just brushing yours.

Wooin caresses your hand for over ten seconds in silence and you let your exhales reveal how bothered you are by the simple touch.

Backing up, your knees hit the bed and you drop like a sack of stones, entirely ungraceful.

God help you, Wooin drops to his knees and takes your leg, hand on your calf to steady you as he helps you shimmy off your tights. As he’s peeling them off, his nails squeeze as he feels bare skin where the material is ripped.

Now his breath is heavy and uneven. You yelp when he yanks them off at your ankles and tosses your legs up on the mattress. With a grumble, he practically suffocates you in your comforter and leaves you abruptly to retreat to his own room.

“Night, don’t vomit on yourself. See you tomorrow.”

With no time to unpack the moment, sleep takes you and the heavy eyelids on your face drop closed with no hesitation.

—---------- A month later…

Wooin’s most recent ‘girlfriend’ is a psycho. Was a psycho.

After the abrupt ‘breakup’ between them, where Wooin likely dumped her unceremoniously and ghosted her without explanation, she’d internet stalked his page to find all his friends and their online clues had led back to the apartment.

Without warning, you opened the door to a face full of ice water.

“Selfish bastard! Go to hell Wooin!”

She neglected to realize you were not Wooin until you sniffled like a soaked rat and closed the door without a word. Her apologies were cut short outside the door as you stepped out of the puddle and tried wringing out the tank top you wore between freezing fingers.

Wooin was currently dicking around somewhere with his friends, likely for the rest of the night. He wasn’t home to witness the outcome of his fuckery.

You’ll let him know to alert the doorman downstairs about letting up random girls later, but Wooin’s bad habits had just come to bite him in the ass again - only this time, taking the heat for him had gotten you smashed over the head with ice water was just too much to handle alone. You wanted to vent.

Rumi came over within the hour with a blanket, a bottle of peach wine, and all the love she could offer in your trying time - a real godsend. You’d have to tell her again just how much she meant to you - the change when you first found a job here and settled into the city life was orchestrated largely with her support and it feels like you’ve known her for your whole life.

“Awwww honey, let’s get you fixed up and on the right track.”

“I’m fine now, I got changed and toweled up the mess at the door.” You groan.

“I just wanna settle in and talk for a bit,” you figure now is as good a time as any, “I’ll tell you about everything I never said earlier.”

Her eyes widened. With bottle in hand, you both sit on the couch and you wring your hands nervously.

“I have no way of putting this gently…. I came to the city because of the ending of my last relationship.”

Without any pressure, she nods. You keep going.

“I had been in a bad spot for most of my childhood, and we latched onto each other early - he was my rock for so many years, and after we got older, we just… clicked.”

“After high school, we just flew past all the milestones without a thought, not really thinking of the consequences of making those life-long. long-term choices because we figured we might not be here for all that long and we should enjoy life to the fullest.”

“Milestones like…?” She’s trying to remain neutral while you’re beating around the bush.

“Oh, well. Someone you trust that much has all your milestones, right? My first kiss, my first time, moving in together, introducing our families…”

“He was everything to me, but the longer we stayed together, it felt like we were running from the past and acting out of preservation, not passion for each other. No half-measures or late night promises could keep it going. Trust me, he was the sweetest guy ever, and I loved him so much. I wouldn’t have chosen anyone else.”

“But?”

“Rumi, I loved him. I was his whole world, and we spent years together. I WAS happy, I promise. He took care of me, bought me flowers, helped manage the house - he never made me pay the bill, or feel obligated to please him.”

“It wasn’t neglectful in any way, but we both realized that as much as we loved each other, we weren’t IN love with each other.”

“Oh.”

Your eyes glisten with the unshed tears. It’s hard admitting that maybe you’re just defective in love, and you haven’t found the one for you - not yet.

“I never felt any contempt when we split - we both knew it would be best to go out there and blaze our own way, find other people better suited for us - people who didn’t see us for just the pain.”

“You’re still allowed to try again, even with a past - we all go forwards.”

Rumi is gentle with you, passing the bottle back and forth as you talk.

“It’s been years since I was twenty-three, and I felt like my whole life started over when I came to the city. I met so many people I can’t live without and now I have an amazing job, awesome co-workers and more blessings and knick-knacks than I could have dreamed.”

“I wish I didn’t tie the knot so young. I was only nineteen when we got married.”

—----------- Wooin’s POV

Married? You were MARRIED?

How the fuck did anyone miss that? Have you ever mentioned it before? Had he known he’d overhear that bomb of information, he’d have stayed out of the apartment forever.

Because he dropped his keys down a sewer drain today, he’d opted to climb the fire escape outside the apartment and shimmy into his room from the window - not bothering to text you.

Nineteen years old, you got married? Who the fuck was this guy?

As far as Wooin knew, you had dated before, sure, and he did a damn good job of keeping you from dating. No room in your life for any other men - aside from him of course. You, despite being hot, intelligent, and downright unshakably confident, only reciprocated the attention of good-hearted, sunshine-faced model citizen guys who frequented coffee shops, libraries, and work - in no uncertain terms, you seemed… vanilla as all hell compared to Wooin.

Marriage? Someone had taken you to the altar and made love to you on a honeymoon? Shared a bed, a whole house to yourselves - for four years.

He felt faint. Is that why you didn’t bother addressing the attraction he’s felt? He hasn’t been subtle that he’s into you, and too many times, the tension between you two has been suffocatingly hot and heavy.

Are you looking for commitment?

With his jaw clenched and hands tight in fists, he paces his room. Everything he thought he knew was just flipped upside down and inside out.

Wooin never felt ready for commitment with anyone - he’s not worthy of that, not with someone so perfect like you.

‘Loved him, but wasn’t IN love with him.’ God, Wooin feels his heart drop at hearing that. You said it as if he didn’t feel that way now, like he didn’t need to be THAT for you, as desperate as he needed air to breathe.

Did you split on good terms? If this guy came back now, would you go?

With all that pain in your voice, he wanted to be the one to soothe it, distract you from how awful you felt. Feeling insignificant and full of trauma was the worst pain, he’d never known you to sound so… hurt. He imagines you curled in the living room, trying to disappear into yourself by balling up and hiding the expression on your face.

He couldn’t measure up to marriage material, and all his jaded habits, selfish ways, and twisted personality felt dangerous to bring to you. Someone so perfect and deserving would be spoiled by him.

But fuck if he’ll let you go without a fight.

Time to buckle down and show you he can be the one.

—--------- A week later, Your POV

Wooin had been acting strangely since losing his keys. After Rumi left and Wooin told you the harrowing tale of dropping his keys, he’d made no call to replace them for himself. He opted to tag along with you when you left the apartment, dropping you to and from work, stopping by any coffee place, shopping district, clothes depot, or library you had mentioned in the last month.

“We don’t have to go everywhere I want, you can save your money. I have a card too.”

“It’s not that. I wanna consider you, show you a good time - you seem down.”

That’s odd. Wooin’s always been attentive to your moods, but without the bitchy comments and edge to this, it feels… less like a roommate who spends time making you smile and more..

More like he’s trying to win you over again.

“I’m not down or upset, I’m…. refocusing on myself.” You try to word it carefully, not ready to open that bit of lore with Wooin of all people. He’s so smooth with dating and romance, meanwhile you’re years behind but also confusingly already been married, so maybe not behind…

“Hey, stop zoning out - I asked what I should pick up for dinner.” Wooin’s hands are drumming on the wheel, his hands white-knucked and antsy.

“Ummm, wherever you like.”

“No, not wherever. You always end up snacking on half of mine when you crave something and I pick the place, when you don’t know what you want - I know that game.”

“How ‘bout you guess where I’ll order from? It’s either the ramyeon place or the BBQ spot - which is it?”

You feel like this is a trap. Wooin knows you too well.

“Ummmm…. Let me think. It’s probably a BBQ place?”

“Sounds right.”

Fucker! He didn’t even have an idea, he tricked you into deciding in under a minute. You give him a big scowl as he laughs,

“Fucking knew it’d be BBQ, you need the protein if you’re done with your period. Red meat is good for you.”

“Wooin, ew. How do you know if I’m on my monthly or not? Did you snoop in my bathroom or do you just know?”

You cringe in the passenger seat and flip him off. Too casually your heart is doing flip flop cartwheels in your chest. With another laugh, he pulls to the front of the apartment building and unlocks the car door.

“I’ve lived with you for almost two years. A magician never reveals his secrets.”

“Let me in once I bring the peace offering, but keep the door locked, wouldn’t want a repeat of last time.”

You scoff and slam his door, but when you turn, there’s a smile beaming on your face.

Stupid girl. You’re not supposed to let your guard down with him.

—----------

After empty takeout boxes cover the whole table, and your food is left half-finished, the TV credits roll as you shift in your seat uncomfortably.

Wooin is on the couch, holding the remote hostage and not playing another episode after dropping a bombshell on you. He wants to know your type in men, and how he measures up to your romance standards because he heard you and Rumi months ago, when you said he wasn’t your type.

Well, the alternative to being vulnerable and honest is to suffocate yourself, fake a heart attack or kill him outright. All of them would require movement, and the way Wooin’s gaze is fixed on you, the slightest movement on your part would be akin to a bunny darting away from a fox and inviting the fox to snap its jaws shut on you.

“It’s really not a huge deal, Wooin, what I meant is that you’re not my type because I’m not your type either. You don’t go for girls like me.”

He gives you an incredulous look, and stares into your damn soul.

“Which is fine. You’re out of my fucking league - you shouldn’t settle for just anyone, and I’d hate to get attached to you and spoil being your roommate.”

Wooin has the nerve to laugh and you flinch at the sound. So much for vulnerability being the path to success.

In a second flat, he’s snatched your ankles and put them on his lap.

“You think you’re not my type? Why would I waste my time flirting so hard if you didn’t drive me insane?”

“Not just any girl keeps my attention, or gets my considerate side. All the snacks, the gifts, the time spent wasn’t for nothing - you’re my waking fucking thought and the last thing on my mind every night.”

Oh my fucking shitballs. Is Wooin confessing to you? Is this a goddamn confession?

“Wooin….”

He doesn’t even look half as distraught as you are, calmly rubbing circles on your ankle while watching you.

“Regardless of what you think, knowing how your mind goes a mile a minute, I’ve been carefully showing you how much you mean to me. What else is holding you back?”

Fuck, you’ll tell him. Gather up every once of courage and say it. Say it to him.

“Wooin, I have to admit, I’ve never been experienced with the dating thing - I skipped all of it and got married young. After my divorce, I felt behind everyone and I have no clue what I’m doing, regardless of how confident or disciplined I seem.”

“I’m terrified at how badly I crave love again, and how easily you’ve wormed your way in.”

His jaw drops. You knew he’d take it the wrong way.

“Divorced? So it’s OVER over?”

What.

That’s what he heard?

“Yes, Wooin - divorces only happen AFTER marriage. We split up and I moved here, and met you.”

“Back to the matter at hand, you don’t seem all that shocked… Did you find out I was married?”

He laughs nervously but remains locked in on you.

“I thought no one knew! I hid it so long, I figured it was buried! Wooin, what the hell?”

“I might have overheard you from my room. Oops. If anything, you were married previously… well…”

You’re reconsidering killing him.

“Spit it out Wooin, fucking c’mon.”

“Well, it pushed me to double down and ask you out for real.”

Oh fuck. He is confessing?!

“The problem is, I can commit to you, no problem.”

“It’s marriage that scares the fuck out of me. I can afford it, but you’d be marrying into a fucked up family and I don’t want anyone’s attention on you, knowing what I do for a living-”

“Wooin! Slow down.” Your heart rate is racing in your ears, and your hands are clammy. You scramble to get over to him and without a thought, he’s closer than ever.

Grabbing his wrist slowly, you look in his eyes as you slide your fingers over his palm and intertwine them with intention to calm him.

“I don’t want this to jump right into marriage, stupid. My husband before had that because I was a different person then - right now, I want to build something lasting but without all the pressure.”

“Take a breath, because all I want is to explain to you - the type of guy I want, is someone who does things for me and cherishes me, buys gifts, helps me out - but all because we share. I want to reciprocate that for you too.”

He gulps as you keep squeezing his fingers. Nice to know you make him a bit nervous. Turning the tables on him is something you look forward to.

You keep your voice low and steady as you can muster.

“The kind of guy I go for is genuine and funny, witty, and handsome as hell. Because it doesn’t matter to me if he picks up dinner and doesn’t go fifty-fifty on dates. He can if he chooses to. And I choose the one who wants to.”

“He doesn’t have to help drunk me into bed, unless he chooses to. And I choose the one who wants to. You’ve never let me down before, so please shut up and kiss me already.”

His eyes are wandering your whole face, not knowing where to look first. With a quick tug to his hand, you lean in and close the distance. His lips meet yours.

You swear time stops as you feel him kiss you back. He squeezes back on your hand, and moves to lower you backwards on the couch without breaking away from your lips once. Gasping for air when he lets you go, he licks his lips once before descending on you again.

Wooin is so fucking good at kissing, it’s really not fair. What chance do you have to resist him when he’s devouring every sound escaping your mouth and pinning you with his whole body? Your free hand reaches up to tangle in his hair, but first you have to fling off his fuckass orange ball cap.

The longer you kiss, the more heat rises in your body and the stronger Wooin seems on top of you as you squirm. With every inch of your body, you need him to keep touching you, keep kissing like you’ll disappear.

“If you tell anyone that I was scared to marry you, you’re dead.”

You let out a breathless laugh. Shaking your head, you remark.

“You literally indirectly proposed because you thought it was your only chance with me. And you still did it.”

“I’m never forgetting that. Who is so desperate to get laid, they consider a proposal before the first kiss?” You keep talking as he lays kisses on your jaw, stopping to nip at your neck.

“You’re the crazy one.”

“Wooin, you heard wedding bells before the sound of my zipper. I’m not the crazy one.”

He growls in your ear and his palms flatten on your body. More open-mouthed kisses on your jaw before he settles on your face again.

“I want to make you forget all about insecurity and the right steps to this. Let me keep kissing you till I lose all the breath I have.”

His voice drips in sin. You like the idea of making out senselessly on the couch before trying to step it up another night to something more sexual.

“Keep kissing me, and we’ll take this further another time? I can’t believe how long it’s been - I wanna savor everything like it’s the first time all over again.”

“Deal.”

A/N; forgive me for making this very dialogue heavy, I ran out of creative juice half-way through it. Also remember readers, if someone claims they're gonna be with you forever and you'll be married one day, but doesn't talk about emotional vulnerability, accountability or difficult choices, that is NOT marriage material - inspired by true events </3, let me know what your favorite line/joke was - don't I really think wooin would admit to having a fucked up family, idkkkkk

dividers by @saradika-graphics & @uzmacchiato

#writingbeclaws #windbreaker webtoon #windbreaker x reader #windbreaker manhwa #wooin yoo #wooin yoo x reader #wooin x reader

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writingbeclaws · 14 days ago

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Noah Austin (Windbreaker Manhwa/Webtoon) x Reader Insert

Genre; Fluff & General Relationship, Suggestive

Mentions of; Possessive behavior, violence, sexism, homophobia & sexual intimacy, readers engage with caution ⚠️

A/N; Noah is so attractive but as someone terrified to hit on women or flirt, she and Kaneshiro represent my disaster bisexual side. Enjoy our favorite deranged baddie with a fatty, also she would NEVER leave your side at any establishment, never mention make you bring drinks back urself, so just pretend for the sake of the plot lmao

Total word count; 3476

You’ve been privileged to compete as a professional in not one Olympic Game, but three. Over twelve years of being on the national team representing, over twenty training hard and honing your skills.

And while you’re incredibly proud of what you’ve accomplished, no one cheers you on or boasts as much as your girlfriend.

Noah Austin. A powerhouse cyclist, a world-class athlete in her own right. And lately, her main hobby is following you like a puppy and singing praise at every waking moment while dunking on any loser in the vicinity.

Oof. You’ll have to work on that.

But yes! You did bring home another armful of gold medals this year with Noah screaming in the stands - security nearly escorted her out twice in the same week of your eventing, but the attention she drew to herself was nothing compared to the support of having her there.

—-----------

The rest of your team thinks your girlfriend is insane. She stalks your social media while crashing practices, argues with your coach daily over their advice, and has examined every meal you’ve eaten since dating to make sure you hit the needed calorie intake and nutrient balance.

It would be overbearing in some ways, but you know she cares. The near feral need for her to watch your back and motivate you is what attracted you to her initially anyways.

And it’s damn fun to watch HER blush uncontrollably and melt when you praise her back. In fact, there’s nothing more rewarding than breaking down her icy stare and pulling the soft parts of her loose with affection, patience, and providing her the space to truly relax with you. Even when she says she hates your cliche pick up lines, not a day goes by when you don’t say one and laugh at yourself, lest she confront you about missing the attention (each one of them she’s memorized and likes hearing from you even if they’re supposed to be cringey - nothing replaces the sound of your voice or knowing you picked something with her in mind.)

In some way, being Noah’s harbor of safety has improved your appreciation of her. While she puts on the front of savagery and emotional distance, she really does crave validation and companionship with you and the learning curve has proven she’ll be the most dedicated partner (if not controlling and a bit obsessive, but hey, what your girl wants, she’ll get. That’s what she lives for.)

Similar to a stray cat accepting love for the first time, Noah also fights back against your praises and direct attention when she’s in her vulnerable moods - often displaying some form of cuteness aggression and crushing you in her arms, biting your fingers, or howling about how cheesy you sound. It’s a matter of pinning her down and kissing all over until she accepts that you care about her just as deeply - either with your words, the quality time, the providing of snacks and sharing clothes, the love languages pile up.

—--------

It’s been ages since Noah had met you, followed you home, and demanded to be part of your life - the dating part came afterwards when YOU popped the question and turned the tables.

“Would you like to go on a date with me?” It had taken all your courage to ask, knowing how attractive and talented she was - she could have her pick of anyone, let alone the fact you didn’t know if she saw YOU like that or how you should define what you both already had.

“Noah, it would mean the world to me to be able to spend some time with you and show you I’m a good contender for your affections. A real date, where I can take you to eat or do something you like together.”

Noah is dead quiet.

‘Did I fuck up?’ You think. She’s not reacting at all, not a twitch of her eye or exhale.

Then you see the blush creep over her face and her lip quiver once before she takes it in her teeth, biting down hard. The striking blue eyes you’ve gotten lost in blink once, twice, before you notice them glisten with a few unshed tears.

“You better not be fucking with me. I’ll kill you.”

“That’s not a yes, sweetheart. Is a date not what you want?” You can barely contain yourself. How are you coming across so smoothly?

“If you want to take me out, we’ll go. I ain’t sharing you with anyone, so saddle up.” her voice sounds like angels on high when you hear her agree.

Success!

Even as you feel faint from the display of bravery, satisfaction keeps you upright and awake so you can grab her hand and gently stroke her knuckles while smiling. You draw her closer and invite her inside, both of you blushing. You’ll decide the location and event for the date over a few snacks.

—----------

Seoul is hosting the Olympic Events this year, and Noah has joined you during your week-long stay for the qualifying rounds (held months in advance to determine the Olympic competitors.)

Every night you get to snuggle her close while she snores in your ear, but she doesn’t judge when you drool on the pillow right by her face either - despite the chaos of blanket hogging, alligator death rolls, and drooling in the night, you can’t imagine not being well-rested with Noah next to you every night.

During the daytime hours, you drag her along for breakfast much earlier than she typically wakes, or bring something up to the room for her to munch on while half-awake so you can get ready for the day. Anytime you approach the door, she narrows her eyes and watches you as if the thought of letting you leave her sight is offensive.

What a lover girl. She’s really too cute.

With qualifiers over, you’re letting Noah pick somewhere to celebrate in the city. The nightlife is popping, and clubs on every street appeal to Noah’s hyper nature. She can stomach the idea of letting other people see you in that killer outfit when you remind her that she’s the only one allowed to pull it off you piece by piece later…

—--------

Speaking of nightlife, Noah is barely letting you get dressed for this club as her hands wander all over you and her face buried in your neck. You sit in front of the bathroom mirror, ass half on the marble sink and do your makeup as Noah gropes your behind with manicured nails.

Noah’s peers from Light Calvary were supposed to meet you in the lobby, but that was twenty minutes ago - Owen told you to just join them at the club when Noah stopped “holding you hostage.”

Whatever. There’s nowhere else you’d rather be than curled around your smoking girlfriend.

“Baby, you’re gonna leave a hickey if you keep doing that.”

She hums into your skin, smiling while biting.

“Noah, c’mon. Everyone knows I’m all yours.”

“Want them to see it on you. I’ll beat them off with a beer glass.” She’s laughing next to you.

Territorial as hell.

“You look too damn fine in this baby. Let me get your zipper for you…” She’s scheming to get that zipper down, not help you finish getting dressed.

“Noah, the zipper goes up.”

“.... I knew that. Was testing you.”

“Hmmmm right. All set.” You pull back and give yourself a once-over in the mirror, seeing Noah’s jaw go slack behind you in her reflection.

“How does it look?” Now you turn the tables.

She covers her face and groans. Kicking the counter and pretending to collapse against the doorway, she’s letting the dramatic reaction speak for itself.

“You’re too pretty for anyone in public to see. I’m gonna keep you all to myself.”

“Mission accomplished. Let’s have fun for a few hours, and out-drink the boys, then we can come home after dancing off the buzz.” You’re in this to celebrate the win, but also score with the most beautiful girl you know. Noah is crazy for you, and never bothers hiding how attractive she finds you.

Noah pushes your bedazzled clutch into your hands as you duck out the door. You stop to give her a chaste kiss, hand on her face, before heading out.

—--------

The music is thumping as you enter, and Noah isn’t helping look for Owen and Harry because she’s too busy watching how your ass looks as you walk. If only you weren’t totally eating up the attention.

Noah is also dressed to the nines, legs bare with a hint of asscheek hanging out of the mini dress you picked out for her. It’s strappy, covered in purple glitter fabric that stretches just right over her …. assets, which is maybe why you like seeing her in it so bad. Her braids are done to frame her face, but you also did a half-updo in the back with silver butterfly hairpins and flat clips while she was on your lap in the room earlier. Combined with her dramatic green and purple eyeliner and maroon gloss, Noah’s appearance drips in sin and allure.

Maybe YOU wanted to keep her up in that room all night just as badly, never wanting to share…

While people mill about you, it occurs to you that you and Noah just spent three minutes giving each other bedroom eyes, absolutely still. A breath escapes you when Owen shouts from a balcony above.

“Hey you two! Come here and say hello before you cream your pants for each other!”

Noah scoffs and puts her middle finger up, while you laugh nervous and take her hand again. You navigate carefully up the stairs and through pools of people to reach them. Harry stands like a satellite tower above everyone, occupied with his cocktail while Owen oogles the girls below.

“Whatever you order, it’s on me! Congrats for the qualifiers.” Owen smiles.

“Thank you! I really think I did good, and it means a lot to have the chance to make the podium again, y’know?”

You try to make conversation as someone brings Harry another tall glass of something, piled high with chicken wings on top and garnishes of celery, making you twist with confusion. He really can’t help the love for chicken wings or something…

“She made the best score in over a decade for any qualifier yet. This year’s competition will be insane, right baby? You’re gonna wipe the floor with those losers.”

Noah is starting to warm up to talking when she knows she can glaze your achievements.

“That’s actually legit-” Owen knows how Noah gets about you.

“And she’s the hottest girl in here tonight. You haven't told her how nice she looks yet.”

If looks could kill.

“My girlfriend is the best at what she does. I can’t imagine anyone else up there, holding a gold medal, looking half as good as she does. I’m so lucky.”

Owen gives Harry a panicked look.

“Did - did you want me to tell her how nice she looks? Noah, you - you tend to get… territorial about who talks about your girl.”

“Is she not worth the compliment Owen?”

“Baby, it’s fine. We came to have fun, remember?” You have to salvage this before it turns sour.

You grab Noah’s hand and stroke over her knuckles again, which calms her down a bit. She’s gotta play nice with her own friends, or there’s no hope for anyone else. If she gets a drink, she’ll mellow out and stick to your side, all cuddly and docile.

You excuse yourself to grab drinks and give Noah a pointed look. ‘Behave until I’m back. Apologize for trying to bite Owen’s head off.’ You hope she understands what you mean.

—----------- Noah's POV

It should not take this long to get drinks. Noah is fuming. Harry is slurping to her left, and Owen is barely letting her talk since she snatched his drink from him. Whatever he ordered was fruity and had edible glitter, so Noah tried it herself. Never gave it back either.

Her shoes hurt but she’s clicking the heel on the ground in annoyance as if that would get you back sooner.

What the hell is the hold-up? You might be meeker than she is, but you’d be fine to order yourself and wrestle through the crowd. God help her, who is keeping you from getting back?

“Noah, it’s literally fine. I can see the bar from my seat - she’s got the order in.” Owen is trying to help, truly.

She shoves him aside and looks from where he was, trying to see you.

“Say that sooner fuckhead. She’s okay?” When Noah catches a glimpse of you, she feels the tension melt away. What a view to see you in your sexy little outfit, head to toe the vision of beauty and class.

Noah crosses her legs and groans at how unfairly hot you’ve been all night. When you leave, she’ll show you just how thankful she can be for this occasion to see you dolled up all nice for her.

Just as Noah begins fantasizing and adjusting in her seat, someone stops you at the bar with a slimy grin.

Hell no.

—---------- Your POV

“Excuse me.” Someone speaks to your left.

“Oh of course-” You move out of the way before his hand drops to your arm.

“You’re so beautiful. I hope it’s not too forward of me, but if I could just admire the view for a second, I’d have the biggest win of my life.”

‘Oh.’ You think. ‘He’s bold.’

Cue your nervous laugh.

“I know you think that’s flattering, but I’m here with my girlfriend so I’ll just get my drinks and go.”

“Wouldn’t want a fine thing like me making my lover wait, y’know?” You hope he takes the hint and fucks off.

“Oh, girlfriend?” He gives you a once-over, looking you up and down, then leans in close. Effectively pinning you to the bar counter, he says,

“I’m open-minded. Let me get your number and show you a good time before you go back to her.”

‘Absolutely not.’ You think. ‘What a scuzzball.’ Is your face giving away your reaction to his pathetic attempt?

“That’s not appealing at all actually. I’ll be going now.” You hope he walks away before you dump these drinks on his head and really show him a scene.

“I’ll help you bring your drinks, I’ll make a better impression on the way up.”

Christ, he does not quit. You force a smile and imagine him stubbing his toe repeatedly as psychic payback. When your drinks come, you yank his hand away from going near them and take both. As you walk away, he keeps following you.

“I really didn’t mean to… trouble you. You have that effect on people, I'm sure you know.”

“Hmmmm.”

“Like, you’re so pretty, you deserve the best. I can offer you the whole world if you were mine tonight.”

The table is a few feet away. Just make it to the finish line and set the drinks down, it’ll be over as soon as he sees pretty boy Owen, skyscraper Harry, and your love, Noah. Light Calvary is world-famously talented, but also world-famously attractive (even if they all have personality disorders.) This guy will take the hint that you roll with a crew out of his league, and you have a girlfriend way out of his league!!

Your voice nearly cracks as you gingerly place the drinks down and greet them. You don’t look towards Noah because you can already tell she’s got the aura to murder this man with one of her metal hairpins and toss him over the railing without seeing her expression.

“Pookie bear, who’s this loser? Did he not get the memo?”

God, Noah, behave. You can’t get kicked out of this place before you finish these 34000₩ drinks and take her to the dance floor.

You put your hand on her upper thigh and squeeze, sending her a look.

“Noah, let’s play nice okay? He didn’t know he would meet a world-class team of hardcore athletes on such short notice.”

Her eye twitches, but with another dramatic look, she grins. Game on.

“This is Light Calvary, a cycling team from the United Kingdom. They're at the top of their game, totally dominating the sport really.”

Oh, it is fun to brag a bit. Noah has the right idea sometimes.

The stranger’s face cracks from his eerily fake, fuckboy smile for a second before he recovers.

“Oh athletes? I don’t mean to brag but, I’m also pretty good at what I do.”

“Like, I’ve represented South Korea at the Olympics. Two years running! Quite badass.” He doubles down, launching into a word vomit as you and Noah team up to tear his ego to shreds.

“Oh my god, the Olympics?”

“Babe, that’s wild. It’s been my dream to take you to watch.” You add.

Owen chimes in with another comment,

“Wow. Accomplishments like that, you must be drowning in pussy.”

‘This guy is done for.’ You hear Noah and yourself agree in your mind.

“Yeah, I’m proud of being an Olympian, I got medals from every event I competed in.”

“Like, it’s effortless to make history when you’ve got the right cheerleader.” His voice makes YOU want to vomit. If he winks again, you’ll disappear under the table and hide behind Noah’s legs.

“So, like,” You twirl your hair and stroke Noah’s hand on the table right in front of this guy, “Can we see your medals?”

Noah gives the fakest laugh ever,

“Oh my gosh, yeah, can we? It’s so impressive, maybe we can see you on TV?”

He puts his hands up like he’s trying to play it cool.

“Awww ladies, I don’t keep them on me y’know? They’re at home…”

“But c’mon, qualifiers just ended. The promotion for the game requires athletes to pose with old medals, like I saw on billboards!” You grin widely and throw a wink his way.

It’s true. You brought the gold medals from last year to Seoul with you for a promotional commercial of the national teams, which has been blazing on TV for almost a week. Funny this guy doesn’t recognize YOU, when clearly, if this Olympian champion pick-up routine is standard for him to hit on girls, he might wanna know any Olympian champion by name or face.

“Well, yes. But I don’t wanna risk the attention for all that.”

“I’d much rather have your attention.”

Yuck. Noah’s knee hits the bottom of the table hard as she kicks a leg to nail his crotch, but you grab her legs at the last second.

Can’t this guy see his chance to win you over is non-existent?

You keep a death grip on Noah’s every inch of exposed skin while you silently gesture for Owen to pass your purse over to you. When you open the bag, Noah hides her grin behind her glass and Harry scoffs loudly.

“Tell me, do your medals look anything like this?”

You snag the ornamental metal disk from the depths of your purse and drag out your three gold medals from the last Olympic Games.

“Or maybe they look like this? To be honest, I’ll give you plenty of time to examine them.”

With your medals displayed like a money spread of bills in your hand, you know it’s game over. His face falls when he realizes he’s been caught in his lie.

He doesn’t make a single sound as he darts away from the table, eager to escape the inevitable laughter. Noah turns your head to face her, and devours your lips.

“He was humiliated. I’ve never thought you were so cutthroat.” Her voice rolls over your skin like fire, heating up your body and making you dizzier.

“Baby, I tried letting him down easy but he didn’t listen. Was it hot?”

“So fucking hot. I wanna see you mean all the time, it’s a real treat.”

Owen fakes a gag and Harry gestures at you two with a half-eaten chicken wing.

“Take that to the bathroom. You can’t fuck on these couches in VIP, we’re eating here.”

“Fuck off Harry. You’re jealous you can only mouth that chicken wing instead of real pussy.”

Noah gasps as she hears you curse again. Her face looks delighted. You give her another big kiss, and pull her up onto her feet.

“Take me to the dance floor, then I’ll take you home? I wanna show you how mean I can really be.”

“Fucking promise?”

You give her a wicked grin and pull her close. Whispering in her ear, you bite on her earlobe. Letting your breath caress the sensitive skin, you say,

“Absolutely promise. Wanna see if your stamina can keep up with an Olympian gold medalist, so buckle up babe.”

A/N; if you couldn't tell, this was heavily inspired by a scene from Criminal Minds, where someone hits on the group of BAU ladies pretending to be cooler than he is, only to get humbled without mercy. owen and harry lowkey think you guys are gonna fuck on the dance floor. Hope you enjoyed!

dividers by @nicodefresas & @strangergraphics

#writingbeclaws #windbreaker x reader #windbreaker webtoon #noah austin x reader

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writingbeclaws · 16 days ago

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Reading all your comments and feeling the love has me skipping around my room and floating!! Is this how you guys feel when y'all post too?!

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