hiiii! not sure if you do headcannons specifically but, boyfriend sieun with sunshine!reader? or a partner who’s the opposite of him character wise. (very positive, loving, etc) luv ur work !!
How he acts with you
Pairings: Yeon Sieun x Sunshine!Fem!Reader
Warnings: none
• At first, Sieun is confused by you. You’re warm, bubbly, and openly affectionate everything he isn’t. You greet him every day like it’s the best part of your life, with a wide smile and sometimes a little jump-hug, and it leaves him momentarily stunned every time. He never knows what to do with his hands.
• He pretends he’s unaffected, but he is. He finds himself watching you when you’re talking animatedly with others, trying to figure out how you can be so soft and kind in such a harsh world. You make even the coldest people open up eventually. He hates how he starts to want that light.
• He never says “I love you” first. But he shows it. Holding your bag without a word when your hands are full. Waiting outside your class even though he could be studying. Silently placing your favorite drink beside you when you’re tired. You say “I love you” for both of you,he just blinks slowly and quietly squeezes your hand.
• You love clinging to him. Arm around his, leaning on his shoulder, poking his cheek to get his attention. He’ll pretend to be annoyed, muttering, “Stop it,” but his ears always go red.
• Your brightness grounds him. When he spirals into overthinking or goes quiet after a bad fight, you don’t try to fix him you just sit next to him, humming softly, rubbing circles on his back, and reminding him you’re there. He’s never known peace like that.
• He worries about being too cold for you. Sometimes, he stares at you while you sleep, wondering why someone like you loves someone like him. You always seem to sense it. Half-asleep, you’ll mumble, “You’re my safe place,” and curl into his chest. He’ll kiss your head quietly and hold you tighter.
• Everyone around you thinks you’re too good for him. And maybe you are. But you love him in a way no one else ever could. And Sieun? He might not say it aloud, but he’d destroy the world if it meant protecting your smile.
Hiii could I request Baku smut where reader is on the unions team and There’s a lot of tension between her and Baku
Smoke and Fire
Pairings: Park Humin (Baku) x Fem!Reader
Summary: The intense build-up between you and Baku finally breaks.
Warnings: Explicit smut, rough sexual tension, enemies to lovers vibes, dirty talk, dominance/submission themes, language, mdni
You could always feel him watching you.
Baku wasn’t subtle about it. Never had been. Not since you first walked into Baekjin’s inner circle and dared to speak without being told to. Not since you showed up to a fight with blood on your knuckles and that satisfied little smirk still sitting on your lips.
He hated you.
Which meant you had him exactly where you wanted him.
“You’re staring again,” you said one night, flicking your cigarette ash onto the floor like you owned the damn warehouse.
He didn’t respond. Typical.
You let your eyes drift to where he leaned against the wall arms crossed, eyes sharp, lips in that permanent scowl. His jaw twitched when your gaze lingered.
You grinned. “I should start charging you for the attention.”
“I should tape your mouth shut,” he muttered under his breath.
You laughed, slow and low, and stepped closer just to test him. “And miss out on all the filthy things you want to hear from it? Shame.”
That jaw of his tightened again. Bingo.
Later that night, Baekjin told the two of you to clean up after a fight just you and Baku, surrounded by blood, broken glass, and furniture in ruins. You were both banged up but still standing. And still stubborn.
You bent to pick up a broken bottle, your shirt riding up just enough to show skin. You could feel his eyes on you like a second heat.
When you stood and turned, you caught him midglance. He didn’t look away fast enough.
“Caught you again,” you teased, stepping right into his space. “You want something, Baku?”
He didn’t move. Just glared. “You talk too much.”
“You think too much,” you countered, brushing a hand up his chest. “Your problem is you’re scared to do what you really want.”
He grabbed the wall beside your head with one hand, trapping you in. Your heart thudded, but you didn’t let it show.
“You don’t know what you’re playing with,” he growled.
You looked him dead in the eyes, a wicked grin tugging at your lips. “I do. That’s why I’m still playing.”
And that’s when he snapped.
His mouth was on yours like a crash hot, hungry, furious. You kissed him back just as hard, your teeth clashing, fingers tangled in his jacket. He tasted like frustration and control barely held, and you wanted more.
His hands were under your shirt in seconds, rough palms sliding up your ribs, thumbs flicking over your nipples, making you gasp into his mouth. He yanked your shirt up halfway and bit down on your lip until you whimpered.
“You like being a brat, don’t you?” he muttered, lips dragging down your throat. “Just begging to be put in your place.”
“I like watching you try,” you said, nails scraping down his neck.
He lifted you like it was nothing, gripping your thighs tight and pinning you against the nearest desk. Your back hit cold wood, and papers flew as he shoved them aside.
You stared up at him your breath quick, heart racing, but still in control. “Come on, then. Show me how much you hate me.”
He didn’t hesitate. Your jeans were gone in seconds. So were his. You didn’t even take your underwear off, he just shoved yours aside and lined himself up, fingers digging into your thighs.
Then he was inside you in one deep, punishing thrust.
You cried out, head falling back against the desk, the stretch sending heat up your spine. He was thick, deep, and rough from the start.
“You’ve been soaked since the second you walked in,” he said, voice ragged. “Weren’t you the one acting like you didn’t want this?”
You moaned, hips arching up to meet his thrusts. “Didn’t say I didn’t. I just wanted to see how long you could hold back.”
His fingers found your clit, rubbing fast, teasing and relentless. Your head was spinning his rhythm brutal, his hand skilled, his mouth dragging along your throat with little bites that promised bruises.
He was everywhere. Inside you, over you, owning you.
“I should keep you like this,” he growled, thrusting harder. “Mouth shut. Legs open.”
“You’d miss my mouth,” you whispered, gripping his shirt as he pounded into you. “You’re obsessed with it.”
“Damn right I am.”
He drove into you faster, the desk shaking beneath your back. You were close so close your whole body trembling as heat coiled tight in your core.
When it hit, it hit hard.
You came with a strangled moan, legs locked around him, nails digging into his back. Your whole body clenched, and he cursed under his breath, fucking you through it as you pulsed around him.
Then he followed, hips jerking, body shuddering as he came deep inside you with a low, guttural growl that sent chills down your spine.
For a few seconds, there was only breathing. Skin against skin. The echo of heat still in the air.
Then you opened your mouth.
“Told you you’d snap first.”
He looked down at you, still catching his breath, and rolled his eyes. “Next time I bring duct tape.”
You smirked, lazy and satisfied, fingers still playing with the hem of his shirt. “You can try. But then you wouldn’t get to hear me moan your name.”
He growled and kissed you again rough, bruising, addictive.
Every time you closed your eyes, you saw the flicker of Seongje’s face livid, protective, blood smeared knuckles trembling not from fear, but fury. You still felt the ghost of his arms around you, the way his jaw had locked when he whispered, “No one touches you.”
But peace never lasts long in this world not when the Union was involved.
You should’ve known it wouldn’t end there.
You were walking back from a bookstore when the first shadow fell behind you. At first, you thought it was just a passerby until the second one stepped out in front of you.
You turned around, heart thudding.
Two boys. Older. Union. You recognized them one of them had been in that alley. The other was new. The moment your eyes met, the one in front smirked like he knew a secret you didn’t.
“You thought that was the end of it?” he said.
You took a step back, glancing around the nearly empty street. “I’m just going home.”
“Not yet you’re not,” the first one said. “Boss wants to see you.”
You hesitated. “I didn’t do anything.”
He grabbed your arm not hard, not gentle either. “Doesn’t matter. You’re part of something now.”
You tried to jerk free. “Let me go.”
They didn’t.
By the time you reached the bowling alley, your legs were weak.
The place has dim lights, music thudding faintly, the occasional crash of pins. But they didn’t take you to the lanes.
They took you through the back door, down a narrow hallway, and into that room. Na Baekjin’s room.
It smelled like cold smoke and old wood.
He was already sitting in the leather booth in the corner, his legs crossed, spinning a ring slowly on one finger. A soda can sat untouched on the table. His expression was unreadable. Calm. Dangerous.
“Close the door,” he said.
They did.
Then you were alone with him.
He didn’t speak right away. Just watched you. Studied you like something under glass.
“So,” he said finally, his voice almost amused. “You’re the girl.”
You swallowed. “What do you mean?”
Baekjin leaned forward, elbows on the table. “The one Seongje fought over.”
You said nothing.
He tilted his head. “You know how many years I’ve known him? Since before he could throw a punch. And not once, not once have I seen him lay out one of our own over anything personal.”
Your throat went dry.
“I don’t care who you are,” Baekjin said, voice tightening. “But you caused problems. That guy he beat? He’s not some random. He answers to me. And now I’ve got half the boys questioning if Seongje’s loyalty is slipping.”
Your hands curled into fists at your sides. “He was protecting me. They hit me.”
“I know,” Baekjin said smoothly. “I saw the footage.”
You froze.
He leaned back, stretching his arm across the seat. “We record the exits near the alley. Saw you stumble in, saw what they did. Saw what he did to them.”
You couldn’t breathe for a moment.
“But see, here’s the thing,” he continued, casual. “I don’t like it when my guys step out of line. And I don’t like secrets in my territory. So you’re gonna tell me the truth now.”
Silence.
“Are you with him?” he asked flatly.
You didn’t speak.
“You don’t answer, I take it as yes.”
You met his eyes finally, your voice shaking. “What does it matter?”
Baekjin stood.
He walked over slowly, deliberately, until he was in front of you.
“I don’t care about your little romance,” he said. “What I do care about is control. Respect. And the fact that he risked both for a girl no one knew existed? That’s not good for anyone.”
You held your chin high, even as your stomach twisted. “If you’re going to do something to me, just do it.”
Baekjin looked almost impressed. “You’ve got teeth.”
“I don’t scare easy.”
“That’s cute,” he said, stepping away. “But fear isn’t the point. This is a message.”
“To who?”
“To him.”
The door opened behind you.
You turned and there he was.
Seongje.
Breathing hard. Like he’d run the whole way. His eyes locked on you instantly, and the second he saw you in that room, something in his expression snapped.
“Get away from her,” he said, stepping forward.
Baekjin held up a hand. “Relax. She’s fine. I just wanted a talk.”
“You sent your dogs after her.”
“I told them to bring her, not drag her.”
“She’s not part of this,” Seongje growled.
“She is now. You made her part of it when you spilled blood over her.”
Seongje’s fist clenched at his side.
You stepped toward him. “I’m okay. I promise.”
But when he looked at you, really looked at you his face twisted with something deeper. Not just rage.
Guilt.
“Don’t come near her again,” he said to Baekjin. “Don’t send anyone. Don’t talk to her. Or I’ll burn this whole place down.”
Baekjin looked at him. “That’s cute. You threatening me over a girl?”
Seongje didn’t blink. “She’s not just a girl.”
And when he walked out with you, his hand brushed yours not in front of them, not fully, but enough that you knew.
Hello! I really love all your work, especially the Seung Jae one. Speaking of Seung Jae, can I request a one shot smut about him (if you're comfortable to write smut) where reader and him have a private and secret relationship. Then one day, someone was flirting to the reader but reader is so shy and naive that she thinks that he is friendly to her. Then, Seung Jae saw it and felt rage, jealousy, and possessiveness towards her. Btw, their relationship is not toxic but there are times that it can be toxic when Seung Jae can't control his emotion. Thankie 😘
Only mine
Pairings: Geum Seongje x Fem!Reader
Summary: You smiled at the wrong guy.
Warnings: Smut, explicit sexual content, possessiveness, jealousy, praise kink, mdni
A/N: *gulp* it‘s kinda hot in here..
You’ve always been soft.
Polite. Shy. The kind of person who smiles at strangers without thinking twice. It’s part of your charm one of the reasons Seongje fell for you. But sometimes, that sweetness felt like a curse.
Because it made people think they had a chance with you.
And today, someone took that chance.
It was during break, near the vending machines. A boy from another class. You didn’t know him well he wasn’t even on your radar. But he struck up a conversation. Said something about how you looked better every time he saw you, called you “adorable” in this half joking, half serious voice.
You thought he was being friendly.
You smiled. Awkwardly. Tucked your hair behind your ear and said, “That’s really nice of you,” like you always did.
You didn’t see the possessive stare from across the hallway.
But Seongje did.
He saw everything.
You don’t notice his silence until hours later after school, when you meet in the unused music room, like always.
You close the door behind you, expecting his usual smirk, his lazy voice teasing, “Took you long enough.”
But when you turn, he’s already across the room. Eyes dark. Hands in his pockets.
Something is off.
“Seongje?” you ask gently. “What’s wrong?”
He says nothing. Just stares at you.
Then moves.
Fast.
You barely register the way his hand slides behind your neck, how his mouth crashes onto yours, how your back slams into the nearest wall with a gasp. His kiss is rough. Messy. Tongue pushing past your lips like he’s trying to claim every part of you.
You whimper, clutching at his hoodie. “W-wait, what—?”
“You smiled at him,” he hisses against your lips.
You blink. “Who—?”
“That fucker by the vending machines.”
Your breath catches. “He was just being nice…”
He laughs, but it’s humorless. “You really believe that?”
You swallow. “I didn’t think—”
“That’s the problem. You never think when it comes to this shit.”
His tone isn’t cruel, but it’s sharp. Laced with frustration. With something worse.. hurt. As if your smile had cut him in ways you didn’t even understand.
“I’m sorry,” you say, voice small. “I didn’t mean to upset you—”
He kisses you again. Harder. Teeth clashing.
“You didn’t upset me,” he growls. “He did. But watching you smile at him like that… like you enjoyed it…”
“I didn’t,” you whisper.
But he doesn’t stop.
His hands are already under your shirt, calloused fingers skating across your ribs, making you shiver.
“You don’t get it, do you?” he murmurs darkly. “You don’t see how guys look at you. You think they just want to be friends?”
Your silence answers for you.
His hand slides up your thigh, under your skirt. You gasp when his fingers brush your inner thigh, the heat of him pressed between your legs.
“They want you,” he breathes, dragging his lips down your jaw, to your neck. “They want to take you from me. And you don’t even fucking notice.”
His touch is rough, almost desperate, like he’s trying to erase the idea of anyone else from your skin.
“I didn’t do anything wrong,” you say softly, trembling.
“I know,” he mutters, dragging your panties down. “You never do.”
Then, lower, much lower he rasps, “But you need to remember who this belongs to.”
You inhale sharply when he dips his head, mouth brushing against your core.
“I—I didn’t know someone could be this jealous…”
He looks up, eyes blazing.
“You think this is just jealousy?” His voice drops an octave. “I love you so much it makes me crazy.”
Then he slides his tongue along your folds.
You choke on your breath, hand flying to your mouth to muffle the moan. Your other hand buries in his hair, gripping tightly as his tongue moves with skill you didn’t know someone like him had.
“You’re already soaked,” he murmurs against you. “You liked me getting jealous, didn’t you?”
“N-no, I—”
“Liar.”
He fucks you with his tongue until your thighs shake.
Then he stands, pulling you to him. Lifting you with one strong arm under your thighs, he carries you to the piano bench and sets you down, your legs spread around him.
His pants drop. You barely see it happen, your eyes are half lidded with need, your breath uneven.
He doesn’t ask.
He slides in deep, all at once.
You cry out, your hands flying to his shoulders.
He’s big, he always is and this position makes it even deeper. You squirm, gasping his name.
“I know,” he groans, forehead resting against yours. “I know it’s a lot.”
But he doesn’t stop.
He won’t.
His hips begin to move slow at first, then faster. He grunts softly each time he sinks into you, the wet sound of your bodies filling the small room.
“You’re mine,” he whispers again and again. “Mine. Mine. Mine.”
“Yours,” you gasp, clinging to him like a lifeline. “Only yours.”
Your body wraps around him like you were made for him. His thrusts hit deep, dragging broken sounds from your throat.
You cry out when he hits that perfect spot inside you again. And again. And again.
“Look at me,” he demands, voice wrecked. “I want to see your face when I make you come.”
You do.
You look up at him, eyes wide and shining with emotion and he shatters.
“Fuck, I love you.”
Then your orgasm slams into you like a wave, blinding, breath stealing, intense. You moan, body shaking, clinging to him with everything you have.
He follows seconds later, hips jerking as he empties inside you, groaning your name.
When it’s over, he doesn’t move.
He stays pressed against you, arms around your waist, face buried in your shoulder.
You’re both breathing hard.
Your fingers stroke his hair.
“…You okay now?” you whisper.
He laughs quietly. “No.”
You blink.
He lifts his head. “Because I know I’ll feel this again. The second someone else even looks at you.”
You smile sadly. “You can’t keep getting mad at me for being… me.”
“I know.” He kisses your collarbone. “But I can remind you who you belong to.”
Hello! (First of all, please forgive my bad English, it's not my first language)
Could I make a request where the reader is Si-eun's sister, maybe a year or a few months younger and his friends come to his house to visit him and then meet her. At first they are confused because they think Si-eun is dating someone but they soon find out everything. The romantic partner could be Gotak. Please and thank you! :)
Not his girlfriend
Pairings: Go Hyuntak (Gotak) x Siuen‘s Sister!Reader
Summary: You had no choice but to open the door and you are already a victim.
Warnings: light flirting, mild language
The doorbell rang at exactly 2:03 p.m.
You sat on the couch, legs crossed under you, headphones in, lazily scrolling on your phone. The apartment smelled faintly of coffee and the instant noodles Sieun had made but only taken two bites of before returning to his room with a book under his arm.
You didn’t even flinch at the sound.
The doorbell rang again, followed by aggressive knocking.
You sighed, pulling one earbud out. “Sieun!” you called. “Someone’s at the door!”
From down the hall. “You get it.”
“Why? It’s probably your weird friends again.”
“Exactly.”
You grumbled, rising to your feet. You had on shorts and an oversized hoodie that probably belonged to Sieun at some point. Your hair was a mess, and your face well, you hadn’t expected to see anyone important today.
You opened the door.
And three pairs of eyes blinked back at you in surprise.
There they were Park Humin, Seo Juntae, and Go Hyeontak, standing awkwardly in the hallway, each holding something: drinks, snacks, and a bag of chips, respectively.
You tilted your head.
They stared.
“Oh,” said Juntae, blinking rapidly. “We… uh… Sorry—did we get the wrong place?”
“No,” said Gotak slowly, frowning. “Wait… Who are you?”
You raised an eyebrow. “Who are you?”
Humin pointed at you like he’d just cracked a conspiracy. “Is this- are you his girlfriend?”
You blinked. Then barked a laugh. “Ew. No.”
“Wait,” said Gotak, narrowing his eyes. “You sure?”
“Dead sure.”
You turned around and yelled into the apartment, “Sieun! Your friends think I’m your girlfriend!”
A moment later, footsteps approached, and Yeon Sieun appeared, looking mildly irritated. “Don’t scream weird things,” he muttered.
Then he looked at the guys. “What are you all doing just standing there?”
“You didn’t tell us someone else was here,” Juntae said, his voice full of suspicion.
“She lives here,” Sieun said simply. “She’s my sister.”
Your eyes met Gotak’s again as you stepped aside to let them in. You noticed then just briefly his gaze lingered on your legs before he looked away quickly.
“Hi,” you said dryly. “I’m Y/N. Unfortunately related to this emotionally constipated guy.”
“Nice to meet you,” said Juntae, grinning now that the mystery was solved. “That was honestly, a wild thirty seconds.”
Humin nodded. “We seriously thought you two were dating. Sieun’s expression wasn’t helping.”
Gotak said nothing, but you felt his eyes on you again when he thought you weren’t looking.
The boys settled in the living room, drinks and snacks sprawled across the table. You mostly stayed on the edge of the room, half listening as you played a game on your phone, curled in a corner of the couch opposite Gotak.
It was a rare day when Sieun had people over, and rarer still when you didn’t feel invisible in your own house.
“He’s like this all the time?” Juntae asked you suddenly, pointing at Sieun.
You smirked. “You mean uptight and emotionally unavailable? Yeah. It’s like living with a robot who judges you for breathing too loudly.”
Sieun didn’t even react. He flipped a page in his book like he wasn’t even part of the conversation.
Gotak chuckled lowly. “So you got the personality in the family.”
You arched a brow. “That a compliment?”
He tilted his head. “Depends. You want it to be?”
You looked at him more carefully this time black shirt stretched over his broad shoulders, lazy grin playing on his lips, a dimple peeking when he smiled fully.
Maybe not as dumb as he looked.
“Let’s just say… I’ll take it,” you replied.
Juntae made a loud oooh noise from beside him.
“Are you flirting with my sister?” Sieun asked without looking up.
Gotak didn’t miss a beat. “Not if you shoot me.”
You laughed, a real one this time, and Gotak looked at you with something like triumph. He leaned a little back, but you could feel it, his eyes found you again every few minutes, like he was trying to figure out where he stood.
You didn’t give him much. Not yet.
Sieun retreated to his room again eventually too much talking, too much noise. The others were still chatting, and you stayed, amused by their banter. Somehow, you and Gotak ended up washing the dishes after dinner. You scrubbed, he dried.
“Seriously though,” he said, quieter now, “I thought you were his girlfriend. Gave me a heart attack.”
You glanced at him. “Disappointed?”
“Honestly?” He met your gaze, smile softening. “Kind of. You’re cool.”
You stared at him for a second longer than necessary. “I think that was flirting again.”
He grinned. “You gonna report me to Sieun?”
You smirked. “Only if you suck at it.”
The silence between you stretched, warm and awkward in the best way.
“Do you… want my number?” he asked.
You handed him a dry plate.
“Smooth,” you said. “Try again after you don’t smell like garlic chips.”
He laughed, head tilted back, genuinely amused.
“Challenge accepted.”
As the boys left, Gotak paused at the door, hands stuffed into his pockets.
“See you around.” he said your name, giving you a look you felt in your stomach.
You nodded, just a little, before closing the door behind them.
From his room, Sieun called out, “Don’t date my friends.”
Could you do reader fixing Baku’s bruises after he got in another fight with the union members, could it also be romantic?
Taking care of you
Pairings: Park Humin (Baku) x Fem!Reader
Summary: After a fight, you patch up Humin and a quiet kiss reveals what words never could.
Warnings: violence, injuries
A/N: Hii! Yess I’m doing good. I hope you like it 🫰🏻
The air was thick with heat and leftover adrenaline as Park Humin stood alone at the edge of the alleyway, his shirt collar torn, fists scraped raw, and blood dripping from the corner of his mouth.
He didn’t look at the three guys groaning on the ground behind him, Union members, the usual type that thought they could outnumber him and win.
They didn’t.
But they did a hell of a job trying.
Humin exhaled slowly, like his breath was trying to keep him upright. His jaw clenched as he rolled his shoulders back and stepped into the weak glow of a flickering streetlight, head bowed slightly. His knuckles were red and cracked, a cut just beneath his eye swelling into a bruise already turning a violent shade of purple.
And then he saw you.
You had been searching for him ever since you heard whispers in the school hallway, something about Humin getting into it again. Another fight. More Union dogs barking up the wrong tree.
“Park Humin,” you breathed, and the name came out sharper than you intended.
He flinched a little at your voice, not because he was scared, he never was but because of the disappointment laced in it.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he muttered, trying to walk past you.
“Too bad,” you snapped, stepping in front of him. “I came anyway.”
His gaze dropped, his lashes low over his dark, unreadable eyes. “I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.” You grabbed his wrist and yanked it gently. “Come on. You’re bleeding.”
He hesitated. “It’s not—”
“Now, Baku.” The nickname rolled off your tongue like a scolding mixed with concern.
He sighed through his nose but followed you. Maybe it was the weariness settling in, or maybe he knew there was no point arguing when you looked at him like that.. like he wasn’t just a fighter, or a problem, or a bruised set of fists, but something worth being worried about.
He sat on the edge of your bed, hands resting on his thighs, bloodied knuckles twitching now and then. You knelt in front of him with the first aid kit cracked open between you.
You dipped a cotton pad in antiseptic and reached for his face.
“Hold still,” you murmured.
He didn’t move, but his eyes locked on yours. There was something in them that you couldn’t quite name, tiredness, maybe. Regret.
You dabbed carefully at the cut below his eye. He hissed, jaw tightening.
“Still think you’re fine?” you asked, voice quieter now.
He didn’t answer.
You worked in silence for a while. His skin was warm under your fingertips, even bruised and battered. You tried not to notice the way he watched you, or how the dim light made his features look softer, vulnerable in a way he rarely allowed himself to be.
“You didn’t have to fight them,” you said finally.
His lips twitched, almost a smirk. “They started it.”
“That doesn’t mean you have to finish it every time.”
“I’m not letting them get away with shit.” His voice was low, raw. “Not after what they’ve done to us. To the others.”
You knew what he meant. The Union had left more than bruises on everyone. You, Sieun, Gotak even Juntae none of you were untouched. But Baku… Baku took it personally. Every threat, every insult, every blow, it fueled something in him that wouldn’t rest.
Your fingers hovered over a bruise along his cheekbone. You hesitated, and then finally whispered, “I just don’t want to see you like this again.”
His gaze dropped to your lips. “I know.”
You finished wrapping his knuckles and leaned back, resting on your knees. “There. You’re patched up.”
He looked down at your hands, still hovering near his. Then, slowly, he laced his fingers through yours.
Your breath caught.
He didn’t say anything, not right away. The silence stretched, thick with something that had been building for a while. Unspoken things. Careful glances. Unnecessary risks taken just to protect each other.
“Hey,” he said quietly, thumb brushing your knuckles. “You know I wouldn’t lose, right?”
“That’s not what I’m afraid of,” you murmured.
He tilted your chin up with one finger, his touch impossibly gentle for someone so often wrapped in violence. “Then what?”
You looked at him, really looked at him. At the pain behind his smirk, the bruises trying to heal, the boy who fought everyone else so hard he forgot how not to fight himself.
“That one day you won’t come back.”
The tension broke like glass. He pulled you close, not with force, but with the kind of need that had been waiting for permission. His forehead touched yours, his breath warm against your lips.
“I’ll always come back to you,” he said.
And then he kissed you.
It was slow at first, almost cautious like he was afraid he’d break you too. But you didn’t pull away. Your hands found his jaw, rough and warm beneath your palms, and he deepened the kiss, tilting your head just so.
It wasn’t a fairytale moment. His lip was split. Your hands trembled. There was blood on his shirt.
But it was real.
When you finally pulled back, both of you breathing a little harder, he rested his forehead against yours again and let the silence speak for him.
You didn’t need him to say the words yet. They were in the way he kissed you like you were the only safe thing in his world. The way he let you clean his wounds. The way he looked at you like you made the fight worth it.
I wanted to request a sieun fic.. kind of like a "they really want each other, but don't want to give in" type of fic, until they both reach a breaking point.. if that makes sense.. and can it contain smut?? please and thank you🩷
Tension and Desire
Pairings: Yeon Sieun x Fem!Reader
Summary: It‘s really akward for Soo-Ho to watch, how you have feelings for each other so he’s going to push Sieun to take the next step.
Warnings: Smut (mdni), mutual pining, first time, friends to lovers, degeneration
A/N: I was a little bit unsure how to write the smut part but I figured it out yeaah and it got a tiny bit longer. Enjoooy
The bell had rung ten minutes ago, but half the class was still dragging their feet about leaving. Bags unzipped, snacks out, the usual low hum of end-of-day chatter filling the room like static.
Your PoV
You leaned against the window ledge, half-listening to your friend tell a story about something that happened in gym class, nodding and laughing in the right places, but not fully there. The air in the classroom felt heavy today not suffocating, just… off. Like something unsaid was lingering in the space.
And you knew exactly where it was coming from.
You didn’t even need to look to know that Yeon Sieun was watching you again.
You’d grown used to the way his eyes would find you in class quiet, unassuming, never obvious. But always intense. Like he was studying you for a test only he was taking.
You’d caught him once. A few days ago. Just a flicker of eye contact that sent something sharp and strange down your spine. He’d looked away fast, pretending like nothing happened. You didn’t push.
But now, it was happening again.
You shifted slightly, stealing a glance over your friend’s shoulder.
There he was sitting in his seat with his chin resting on one hand, elbow propped against his desk, body still as stone. Just watching.
No book open. No phone in hand. Just you in his line of sight.
And the weird part?
He didn’t even seem to realize he was doing it.
“Are you even listening to me?” your friend teased, nudging you.
You blinked. “Sorry. Zoned out.”
They followed your gaze and let out a low, amused laugh. “Yeon Sieun’s been staring at you like that for ten minutes. You gonna say something?”
You tried to play it off with a shrug. “He’s always like that.”
“Like that?” they raised an eyebrow.
You didn’t answer.
Because the truth was… no. He wasn’t always like that. Not with anyone else.
Something was different lately.
He’d gotten quieter. Still sharp when he spoke, still carrying that quiet steel he was known for but around you, it felt like he was trying to hold something back. Like if he let it out, it might ruin everything.
You turned your head just in time to see Soo-Ho walking up to him.
He dropped into the chair next to Sieun like he belonged there casual but direct, voice low so no one else could hear. You couldn’t make out the words, but Sieun’s reaction was immediate: tense shoulders, clenched jaw, fingers tapping against the desk like he needed something to do with them.
Soo-Ho’s hand clapped his shoulder once before he stood and left, as quickly as he came.
Sieun didn’t move.
Didn’t look at you again either.
You felt your stomach twist in a way you couldn’t name.
Your friend leaned in, whispering, “That looked serious.”
You nodded slowly, gaze lingering on Sieun.
Yeah.
Something was definitely coming.
You just didn’t know what.
Sieun‘s PoV
You were laughing with a friend by the windows, voice soft but clear enough that Sieun could pick out every word if he tried. And he was trying.
Sieun sat alone, as always, near the back.
Elbows on his desk, eyes locked on you. Not with obvious hunger, not in a way anyone else might notice. Just quiet. Fixed. The same way he looked at problems he couldn’t solve. Like you were a complicated equation he hadn’t figured out yet. Like if he stared long enough, the answer might reveal itself.
You glanced over once.
He looked away so fast it was almost unnatural, gaze shifting to the blank page in his notebook like it had been fascinating all along.
It was nothing. Just another afternoon. Just another day where he sat still while his chest felt like it was burning from the inside out.
“You gonna keep acting like a corpse, or are you gonna do something about it?”
Soo-Ho’s voice cut through the haze.
Sieun didn’t look at him. Just kept his eyes on the same page, blank except for a faint indent where his pen had hovered.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sieun muttered.
Soo-Ho slid into the seat beside him with all the subtlety of a freight train. “You’ve been staring at them for, what, two weeks now?”
“I’m not—”
“Yes, you are.”
Sieun sighed, sharp. “It doesn’t matter.”
Soo-Ho tilted his head, giving him that look the one that made people flinch because it always saw straight through them. “It matters when you look at someone like that. Like they’re the one thing keeping you upright.”
That hit harder than Sieun expected.
He looked up for a second. You were still there. Still laughing softly. Still out of reach.
“I don’t want to mess it up,” Sieun said, quieter now. “We’re friends. If I say something and it’s wrong—”
Soo-Ho cut him off. “You think staying silent doesn’t hurt just as bad?”
Sieun didn’t answer.
Soo-Ho leaned back in his seat, arms crossed, watching the tension coil in Sieun’s jaw like a rubber band about to snap.
“You know what happens when you wait too long?” he said calmly. “Someone else steps in. Or worse… nothing happens at all. And you just carry it around forever.”
Sieun’s throat tightened.
His fingers curled around the edge of his desk.
He didn’t trust himself to look at you again right now. Not without giving something away. Not without doing something reckless.
Soo-Ho stood, clapping a hand lightly on Sieun’s shoulder. “Feelings don’t go away just because you ignore them. You either deal with it, or it eats you up. Your choice.”
And then he walked off, leaving Sieun with nothing but the sound of your voice in the air and the sharp echo of his own heartbeat behind his ribs.
The clock on your nightstand blinked past 12:17 AM.
You were still awake.
Lying in bed, eyes wide open, staring up at the ceiling like it might start whispering answers to questions you hadn’t dared say aloud. The soft tapping of rain against your window had started maybe twenty minutes ago. It was light at first — a drizzle, gentle — but now it had turned steady, rhythmic. A hush over the city, soft but insistent.
You should’ve been asleep. You tried. Turned your pillow over twice. Burrowed into your blanket like maybe you could bury your thoughts too.
But he wouldn’t leave your head.
Yeon Sieun.
The way he stared at you in class like you were something he couldn’t get too close to — something fragile. Or dangerous. Or both.
The way Sooho whispered something to him earlier, and his whole body tensed like a bowstring. You’d seen it. That quiet unraveling.
You hated that you couldn’t stop thinking about him.
Not just the glances. But the way you started noticing him more. The way your chest ached with something you couldn’t name when he looked away like he hadn’t just been staring at you like he was memorizing every inch of you.
You sat up.
Rain pattered harder outside. You looked toward the window, lips parting slightly.
Why did it feel like the air itself was trying to pull you out?
You slipped out of bed, bare feet brushing cool floorboards. You didn’t bother with much — just threw on a hoodie over your sleep shirt and slipped into your sneakers. The house was quiet as you crept out, door closing behind you with a soft click.
You didn’t even know where you were going.
You just… moved.
Let the rain wash over your thoughts as you walked the dim streets. The city was quiet, the kind of silence that only came when everyone else was asleep and your feelings had no one to hide from.
And then—
You saw him.
Your heart skipped.
“Sieun?”
You weren’t supposed to see him.
Not tonight. Not in the rain. Not like this.
But there he was, standing under the dull flicker of a streetlamp, his hood barely shielding him from the downpour. Rain slid down the sides of his face like sweat, hair soaked through and plastered to his forehead. His hands were tucked in the front pocket of his hoodie, shoulders hunched like he was trying to disappear into himself.
He hadn’t noticed you yet.
Maybe you should’ve turned around. Let him have this moment alone.
But your feet moved before your thoughts did.
“Sieun?”
His head snapped up. For a second, he looked like he might pretend he didn’t hear you. His mouth opened slightly no word, no sharp retort. Just the soft widening of his eyes.
“…What are you doing out here?” you asked.
His answer was delayed, his jaw tightening. “Does it matter?”
You stood a few steps away, soaked to the skin. You didn’t care.
“I was walking. Couldn’t sleep.” Your voice was low, a breath under the patter of rain. “You?”
He swallowed, eyes flickering away. “I don’t know.”
You didn’t need to ask. You’d seen him like this before when he was thinking too much, when something heavy was curling inside his chest and he didn’t know what to do with it.
You took another step closer. “Did Soo-Ho say something to you?”
He stiffened. That was enough of an answer.
You sighed. “You’ve been weird lately.”
“You’re the one who showed up in the rain,” he said quietly.
You let out a breath that might’ve been a laugh. “You’re deflecting.”
Silence again. Just the rain falling between you.
And then, so quietly you almost missed it “He told me to stop being a coward.”
You blinked. “What?”
Sieun looked up at you, really looked at you. His face wasn’t unreadable tonight. It was raw. Nervous.
“He told me to stop pretending like I didn’t feel something.” His voice was quieter now, almost lost in the sound of the rain hitting pavement. “That if I kept running from it, I’d lose my chance.”
Your heart skipped a beat. The air felt too cold and too warm at once.
“And are you?” you asked. “Running?”
He didn’t answer. His fingers clenched inside the hoodie pocket.
“I didn’t want to screw this up,” he said finally, voice strained. “We’re friends. You… you matter to me.”
You took a shaky step closer. “Then don’t run.”
Sieun let out a shaky exhale like something in him cracked.
“I don’t know how to do this,” he whispered.
His voice wasn’t full of bravado or confidence or sarcasm. It was bare. Unfiltered.
You stood in front of him now, the rain soaking through both of you. “Neither do I. But I don’t want to pretend anymore.”
There was a beat a pause so sharp it felt like the world stopped moving.
And then he kissed you.
No warning. No hesitation. Just lips crashing into yours like a wave, like all the restraint he’d wrapped around himself had finally given way.
You gasped against his mouth, your hands tangling into the front of his soaked hoodie. His lips were trembling, unsure.
The kiss wasn’t perfect. It was desperate and clumsy and soaking wet, teeth grazing, breath uneven. He pulled back just an inch, eyes wide, lips swollen.
“You okay?” you whispered.
Sieun nodded, chest heaving. “I—Yeah. I just…”
He leaned in again, slower this time. Softer. His hand came up, fingers brushing your jaw so carefully, so tentatively, like he was afraid you might disappear if he touched too hard.
And when his lips found yours again, it was different.
It wasn’t a crash.
It was a confession.
Your body pressed closer, your hands sliding up beneath his hoodie, fingertips tracing the edge of his damp shirt, the curve of his back. He shivered under your touch, every muscle taut.
The rain was falling harder now, but neither of you moved.
And then you pulled back slightly, lips inches from his. “Come with me.”
Sieun hesitated, eyes flicking across your face. You could see the war in him. The desire. The fear.
But he nodded.
Still damp, breathless. The sound of the rain muffled behind closed doors.
You handed him a towel, the soft fabric warm against your skin as he took it, his eyes never leaving yours. They held an intensity that made your pulse quicken, an electric charge in the air between you. Every drop of water that glistened on his damp hoodie clung to his form, outlining the lean, toned muscles beneath. You felt an undeniable pull towards him; a magnetic draw that was impossible to resist.
With a flick of your wrist, you peeled your wet shirt off, the fabric sliding down your arms and pooling on the floor, leaving you bare and exposed. His breath caught in his throat, a flicker of surprise illuminating his features before his gaze dropped, only to snap back to yours with an urgency that made your heart race.
His ears flushed a deep crimson, a color that made you almost smile with delight at the shyness radiating from him.
"You've never...?" you asked softly, your voice laced with curiosity and invitation.
He shook his head, the simple act of it sent a shiver of vulnerability coursing through him. “No. I just—I don’t know what to do.”
You stepped closer, allowing your fingers to brush against the damp warmth of his cheek, your touch light yet electric. “You don’t have to know anything. Just feel.”
As if your words held a spell, something within him seemed to break free. He closed the distance, leaning in again, movements tentative yet yearning, his hands sliding beneath your shirt. He was learning you with every hesitant caress, exploring every inch like you were a cherished treasure, and each tender brush of his fingers sent heat pooling in the depths of your being.
“Is this okay?” he asked, his voice tight, eyes wide with a mix of awe and uncertainty.
With a fervent nod, you breathed, “More than okay.”
When his lips finally found yours again, the kiss was imbued with a newfound certainty. It was a passionate meeting of feelings, a palpable hunger igniting the air around you. His hands roamed up your sides, exploring the curve of your waist, brushing over your ribs, hesitating at the swell of your breasts, each touch igniting a bright, fierce pulse of desire within you.
He began trailing kisses down your neck, every drag of his lips slower and more assured than the last, as though imprinting the taste of you onto his memory. You tilted your head back, granting him more access, feeling his breath warm against your skin. Your heart raced as you felt his fingers tremble at the waistband of your pants, hesitation threading through his movements.
"You can," you encouraged softly, each syllable dripping with longing. "I want you to."
He exhaled shakily, resting his forehead against yours, seeking guidance in your gaze. “Tell me what to do.”
With gentle insistence, you guided his hands, leading them down your waist and over the fabric of your pants. Your body began to arch into him, responding to his touch like a flower stretching toward the sun. You let him undress you piece by piece, feeling the warmth of his fingers against your thighs as you peeled the fabric away, baring yourself completely to him. His eyes darkened with wonder and desire, hungry for every inch of you, taking in the sight as if he were memorizing a sacred spell.
When you finally pushed him to shed his own clothes, he hesitated, a flicker of uncertainty catching in his voice.
You cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing against the heat of his skin. “You’re perfect,” you reassured, and a soft sigh escaped his lips, the tension in his shoulders loosening as he absorbed your words
You climbed onto the bed, inviting him to follow, and felt the weight of his body as he settled above you. His form was solid and grounding, and when his lips connected with yours again, it was a slow burn that ignited your senses. You were both exploring, unraveling, discovering the depths of what you craved.
As you guided him and your bodies began to pulse together, the room filled with the sound of your soft breaths and the mingling of your heartbeats. His hands roamed hungrily, mapping every curve, every contour of your skin, fingers trailing down your sides, resting at the swell of your thighs to tease and coax.
When he finally slid into you, there was a moment of stillness. He froze, eyes wide with surprise as sensations cascaded through him.
“Ohh…” he groaned, voice trembling with awe. “I didn’t know it would feel like this.”
You whispered encouragement, soft and sultry as you wrapped your legs around his waist to pull him closer. “You’re doing so good, Sieun. Just breathe and move with me.”
With each thrust, he found his rhythm, unsure at first but slowly gaining confidence as your bodies danced together in sync. Each push brought new sensations, new depths, a visceral connection that shot straight to your core. His breath hitched on every gasp, every moan, and the feel of him inside you sent tremors of ecstasy through your body.
Your hands clutched at his back, nails digging slightly as pleasure built between you both. The sensations expanded, a tidal wave of electric pleasure lapping at the edges of your consciousness, drowning you in waves of bliss.
“God, it feels so good,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire, and his rhythm began to quicken as your gasps turned into soft cries that spurred him on, every thrust more assured than the last.
You could feel him unraveling, every sweep of his hips igniting a fire within you that burned brighter and hotter.
“Please, don’t stop,” you pleaded, words tumbling from your lips like a prayer, urging him on to push deeper, to connect more fully.
As his pace grew faster, the tension built until it became an almost unbearable pressure, a coiling spring ready to snap. His breath caught as he felt your walls tightening around him, drawing him in closer, deeper, as the world began to blur.
When the moment finally arrived, it washed over you like a tsunami, a powerful rush of ecstasy that felt like you were both being swept away. He gasped your name, a broken utterance that resonated in the depths of your soul as you shattered together, his body trembling against yours.
His hips stuttered, and you felt him release, every wave of pleasure intermingling as you both succumbed to the blissful aftermath. You clung to each other, bodies entwined, as he collapsed against you, panting, his forehead resting on your shoulder, grounding you in the blissful haze.
After a moment of shared silence, he whispered, “Did I… was that okay?”
You smiled, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead, pulling him even closer. “More than okay.”
He shifted to lie next to you, turning so you were face to face, fingers brushing over your cheek with a tenderness that felt sacred.
“I didn’t think you’d want me,” he said softly, a hint of vulnerability threading through his voice.
“I always did,” you confessed, your words a promise held deep in your heart.
He laced his fingers with yours, a silent vow passing between you, sealing the moment. Outside, the rain continued to fall, an echoing reminder of the world outside. But inside, everything had changed; you had crossed a threshold into a realm of newfound intimacy that echoed with the promise of more to come, a bond strengthened by the embers of your shared passion.
Can you do advice 3? I really liked the 1 and 2 and i cant get enough
Advice.. III
Pairings: Geum Seongje x Fem!Reader
Summary: The guys want to find out who got you smiling like that, but they were way too close to find out.
Warnings: physical violence, unwanted touching, harrasment, strong language
A/N: I’m reallyyyy happy that you like it 💕 Enjoooy
☜︎ Prev Next ☞︎
You were barely hearing anything around you.
The guys were talking, joking, throwing half-hearted punches, nudging each other like usual. You were sitting with Sieun, Juntae, Baku and Gotak outside a small convenience store near school. An empty ramen cup steamed at your side. Someone handed you a drink. You nodded, murmured thanks.
But your mind was elsewhere.
Still back in that quiet corner of the hallway where Geum Seongje had kissed you for the first time.
The memory clung to your skin like static
His hand curled behind your neck, the warm pressure of his lips brushing yours, hesitant for only a second before deepening, as if he’d been holding back for too long.
The way he said , “You make it hard to ignore you.”
You were still feeling it. The flush in your chest, the phantom pressure on your lips. You couldn’t stop biting them, brushing your fingers over your mouth like the kiss had left something visible.
“Yo.”
You blinked.
Gotak was looking at you from across the bench. “You good?”
“Yeah,” you said too quickly. “I’m fine.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You’ve been zoning out the whole time. You look like you’re hiding something.”
“I’m not.”
“You smiled at your water bottle just now.”
You froze.
Sieun looked up briefly from his phone. “Is it a guy?”
You nearly choked. “W-What?”
Baku snorted. “It is a guy! Look at her face!”
You covered your mouth with your hand. “It’s not—! No. You’re all seeing things.”
Gotak leaned back with a teasing grin. “Let’s guess who it is. Someone from school?”
“No,” you said quickly. Too quickly.
“Someone we know?”
You stiffened.
Juntae watched you carefully. “Wait… wait a second. Is it… someone you shouldn’t be with?”
You stared straight at the ground, heart pounding.
Your phone buzzed in your pocket.
You pulled it out without thinking.
[Unknown Contact]
Rooftop. 7 PM. Don’t be late.
No name. Just the message. But you knew who it was. Knew that texting you at all was risky for him. Knew that your fingers were already curling tighter around the phone as your stomach twisted with nervous excitement.
You looked up and realized Juntae had seen the screen.
His brow furrowed. “Who’s texting you without a name?”
You locked the phone and slipped it back in your pocket. “Nobody.”
“It’s not nobody if you’re about to pass out blushing.”
You stood abruptly. “I’ve gotta go.”
“All of a sudden?”
“Yeah. Homework.”
“No, you don’t,” Baku said.
But you were already walking away, ignoring their voices behind you, hoping they wouldn’t follow. Hoping they wouldn’t put the pieces together.
Because how could you explain to them that you kissed the last guy in the world you were supposed to?
That Seongje of all people had kissed you like he meant it. Like he’d never done it before.
That your heart still hadn’t slowed down since.
The sky had turned amber, streaked with gold and charcoal as the sun began to set. The air was warm, humming with the lazy energy of a spring evening. You sat beside Geum Seongje on the rooftop of an empty school building, legs dangling over the edge. You’d been there for an hour, just talking. Or more like… he listened to you talk.
Seongje never talked much unless he had something smart to say. But when you were alone with him, he didn’t always need words. Sometimes he just looked at you, his expression softer than the one he wore around others less armor, more curiosity.
You turned your head, catching him watching you again.
“What?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.
He looked away, lips twitching. “You’ve got something on your face.”
You wiped your cheek instinctively. “Where?”
“There,” he pointed vaguely, then leaned in without warning. He kissed the spot instead light, deliberate his lips brushing just beneath your cheekbone. “Got it.”
You glared at him, blushing. “You’re so full of yourself.”
“I know,” he said smugly, but his voice dropped as he added, “but you still like me.”
You bumped his shoulder. “Barely.”
He chuckled under his breath. But then he leaned back on his elbows, gazing at the sky, his face unreadable again.
You lay back beside him, looking up too. For a moment, you just breathed together. Quiet. Peaceful. Like he didn’t have ties to something dangerous.
Eventually, you sighed and sat up. “I should go. The guys are probably wondering where I went.”
He didn’t move for a beat. Then he stood, brushing off his jeans. “Want me to walk you?”
You smiled. “No. Someone might see.”
He nodded slowly, and you knew what he wasn’t saying It’s not safe. But I won’t risk getting you involved.
So you left alone, the ghost of his kiss still lingering on your skin.
You took a shortcut home, familiar alleyways between apartment blocks, the concrete lit by weak orange streetlamps. You didn’t think twice. Not until you turned the corner and realized you weren’t alone.
A group of older boys stood there. About six of them, leaned casually against crates and stairs, smoking, laughing, whispering too low for you to hear. They didn’t look like strangers. Their uniforms were unbuttoned, slouched. And when one of them turned and made eye contact with you, your stomach dropped.
Oh oh.
You tried to back away, quietly. But your shoe scuffed the pavement.
They all looked up.
One of them stepped forward, dark eyes narrowing. “Yo,” he said. “You lost, little thing?”
You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. You felt your throat close.
Another leaned into the circle, amused. “She’s cute. You followin’ someone? You’re not supposed to be here.”
“I didn’t know,” you said quickly. “I was just walking home, wrong turn, I’ll go back.”
“Not so fast,” the first one said, stepping in front of you. “You heard anything? Saw anything?”
“I don’t even know who you are—”
Wrong answer.
The boy grabbed your wrist roughly. “Liar. You don’t end up here by accident.”
“I swear—!”
Another boy joined, arms crossed. “Who are you? Say your name.”
You shook your head. “It doesn’t matter please, just let me go—”
He raised a hand. Not to wave.
To strike.
And it landed.
The slap cracked across your face, hot and loud. Your head snapped sideways, cheek stinging. You stumbled, nearly falling.
The world tilted. Your eyes watered not from the pain, but the fear.
And then—
“What the fuck are you doing?”
That voice. His voice.
It came like a growl, low and furious.
All heads turned.
And Geum Seongje was there.
He stepped into the circle like he didn’t care there were six of them. Like it didn’t matter if they were Union or not. His eyes were locked on you, and when he saw the red mark blooming across your face, his entire body tensed like a loaded weapon.
The boy who slapped you looked confused for half a second.
“Seongje? She didn’t say who she was we were just—”
Seongje punched him so hard he dropped.
No hesitation. No words.
Just a fist straight to the jaw, the sound of bone on bone, and then the boy was on the ground groaning. Blood smeared his lip.
The rest of the group moved instantly but Seongje turned, face cold as ice.
“Anyone else want to explain why you laid a hand on her?” he said, voice low and deadly.
They froze.
One of them tried to speak. “We didn’t know she was yours—”
“She’s not property,” he snapped. “She’s off-limits. That should’ve been obvious the second you saw her face.”
You stood frozen, still holding your cheek, your breath shallow and quick. Seongje walked straight to you. You saw the change happen in him again the fury draining into something sharp and quiet as he looked you over. His hand came up slowly, carefully, fingers brushing your chin to tilt your face toward the light.
When he saw the red print, he swore under his breath.
“You okay?” he asked, low.
You nodded shakily. “I didn’t mean to come here— I didn’t know—”
“Shhh,” he murmured, stepping in closer. “It’s not your fault.”
Then he turned back to the boy still groaning on the ground.
But you grabbed his sleeve. “Don’t. Please. You’ve already done enough.”
He stilled.
For a second, it looked like he might fight you on it. His hands flexed, still twitching with anger.
Then he reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and snapped a photo of the guy’s bloody face.
“You tell the others,” he said to the group. “Anyone touches her, they deal with me. Got it?”
They all nodded, dead silent.
Seongje looked at you again. “Come on.”
He led you out of the alley without another word. You didn’t speak until the lights of the main street hit your face, soft and safe.
He finally stopped, pulling you gently to face him.
His eyes scanned you again checking every inch, like he was trying to make sure you were still whole.
“I told you not to walk alone,” he muttered.
“I didn’t know they’d be there.”
“You shouldn’t have had to worry about that.”
Silence stretched between you.
You whispered, “You were really going to kill him, weren’t you?”
“I still might,” he said darkly. Then softer “No one touches you. Ever.”
You looked up at him. “Why do you care so much?”
He stared at you for a second then pulled you into him suddenly, fiercely. His arms locked around you, his chin resting in your hair. You felt him breathe in slow, steady, like he needed to remind himself you were real.
“I don’t know how to do this right,” he whispered. “But I know I can’t lose you.”
You held him tighter.
And for the first time in all the chaos, you felt safe.
It’s late in the evening. You’re in Sieun’s room. A quiet lamp glows in the corner, casting a warm light. Rain taps lightly at the window, and the world outside feels distant. You’re sitting side by side on his bed, legs barely touching, the silence between you thick with something unspoken.
Sieun glances at you, his sharp eyes lingering for a second too long before flicking away again. He clears his throat, shifting slightly.
“You keep doing that,” you say softly.
“Doing what?”
“Avoiding my eyes.” You smile a little. “You always look away when things get… close.”
He says nothing, but you notice the way his fingers clench slightly over the hem of his sleeve.
You lean in, nudging his shoulder. “We’ve been together for how long now?”
Sieun looks down. “Three months and seventeen days,” he says quietly.
You blink. “You counted?”
“I remember things,” he replies, tone flat, but his ears are flushed pink.
You watch him for a moment. “You know, we’ve never kissed.”
There’s a pause. The rain fills it.
Sieun breathes in slowly. “I know.“
You tilt your head. “Do you… want to?”
He hesitates, and that tells you everything.
“I’ve never done that before,” he admits, eyes fixed firmly on his hands.
Your expression softens. “That’s okay.” You reach out and gently take one of his hands in yours. “Do you want me to teach you?”
Sieun looks up at you then, and there’s something in his eyes.. a flicker of nervousness, but also trust. He nods, just once.
“Okay.” You smile, scooting a little closer. “First… you don’t need to overthink it. You always think too much.”
“I’m not—”
“You are,” you tease gently. “Kissing isn’t about solving a problem, Sieun. It’s about feeling something.”
He swallows, lashes lowering slightly.
You lift your hand to his cheek, warm and reassuring. “Close your eyes.”
Sieun hesitates, then does as you ask. You study his face his furrowed brows, the way his lips are pressed together, like he’s bracing himself.
You lean in slowly, so slowly he has time to pull away. He doesn’t.
Your lips brush his, just barely, a whisper of contact. You feel him tense, then slowly, melt into the touch. His breath catches in his throat.
You pull back just enough to whisper, “Breathe through it. Don’t be stiff.”
“I’m not stiff,” he mutters, eyes still closed.
You chuckle. “You’re tense like you’re about to get into a fight.”
“That’s what this feels like,” he murmurs.
You laugh softly. “It’s not. No one’s trying to hurt you here.”
His eyes flutter open. “Then what am I supposed to do?”
“Feel it,” you whisper. “Let go.”
You kiss him again this time a little deeper, letting your lips linger. He kisses back, clumsy at first, unsure, but there’s something endearing in the way he learns through the moment, responding to you. His hand comes up, hesitantly brushing your side.
When you part, his eyes open slowly, dazed and a little breathless.
You smile at him. “See? Not so hard.”
Sieun stares at you for a beat. “You make it look easy.”
“It is easy. When it’s with you.”
His ears burn bright red. “You’re embarrassing.”
You lean in close, whispering against his lips, “You like it.”
He doesn’t answer but the next kiss comes from him.
Summary: You’re alone. And this time, he doesn’t just walk away.
Warnings: Implied stalking/following
☜︎ Prev Next ☞︎
The week had been quiet, too quiet. You hadn’t told the guys about your strange run-in with Seongje outside the corner store. Not because you were scared, but because… you didn’t even know how to explain it.
What would you say?
Hey, that guy who threatened to break our noses? Yeah, he cornered me the next day and said he liked my mouth.
You could already hear Juntae freaking out, Gotak offering to fight him, and Sieun staring blankly like he already knew something you didn’t.
So you kept it to yourself.
It was late.
The city had gone soft at the edges, lights glowing warm through hazy windows, the sharp daytime noise replaced by a low murmur of cars and the occasional clink of bottles from a convenience store down the block. Your footsteps echoed lightly against the pavement as you made your way home, a takeout bag swinging loosely from one hand. You weren’t in a rush.
You liked walking at night. It was the only time the streets felt like they belonged to you.
Then quiet, so quiet you almost missed it, footsteps behind you. Not hurried. Measured.
You didn’t turn around immediately.
Not until you heard that voice.
“You always walk this slow, or is that just for me?”
You stopped in your tracks. Your pulse jumped, but you kept your voice steady. “You again?”
Geum Seongje strolled into view from behind you, hands in his pockets, hood pulled low over his brow. The streetlight caught the curve of his smirk, the glint in his eyes as he looked at you.
“You sound surprised,” he said, casual.
You tilted your head. “I shouldn’t be, should I?”
He chuckled. “Probably not. You’re not exactly forgettable.”
You stared at him for a moment, then turned and started walking again. You didn’t say a word. You didn’t have to because a second later, you heard his footsteps fall in beside yours.
He didn’t speak right away. Just walked with you in silence for a few steps. You could feel his presence like heat beside you.. tall, confident, cocky, but not entirely unkind. The kind of boy you were supposed to avoid. The kind of boy who could ruin your life with one look if you weren’t careful.
“I didn’t see you around the last few days,” he finally said. “Thought you were playing hard to get.”
“Or maybe I was just avoiding trouble.”
“And yet, here we are.”
You glanced at him from the corner of your eye. He wasn’t looking at the street, or his phone, or anything else.
Just you.
“Why are you even here?” you asked.
“Why not?”
“That’s not an answer.”
He smirked. “Maybe I was in the area. Maybe I hoped I’d run into you again.”
Your brow lifted. “Why?”
He stopped walking, and you did too because the weight of his stare was too heavy to ignore now. There was something under the surface of that smirk. Something he wasn’t saying.
“You really don’t get it?” he asked, voice lower now.
“No. I don’t.”
Seongje took a slow step closer. Then another.
You didn’t move.
“Because,” he said, “you don’t flinch. You don’t shrink away. You don’t act like I’m some ticking bomb. Everyone else does.”
“I don’t see a bomb.”
He laughed softly at that. “No? You sure you’re not just blind?”
“I think I see you more clearly than most.”
That made him pause. The grin faded just slightly enough for you to see something else flicker behind his eyes. Curiosity. Maybe even vulnerability. But it vanished quickly, buried beneath layers of armor he wore like second skin.
“I don’t do this shit,” he said after a second. “Following people. Talking twice.”
“Then why now?”
His gaze dropped to your mouth, slowly. “I told you already. You make it hard to ignore you.”
Your heart kicked harder against your ribs.
The way he said it, it wasn’t a compliment. It was a confession.
A problem he hadn’t planned on having.
You were both quiet for a beat. The air between you buzzed with tension, like the seconds before lightning strikes.
Then he leaned in. Slow. Careful, for once.
His hand lifted, fingers grazing your jaw gently, thumb resting just below your chin. His eyes searched yours, waiting for permission, maybe, or warning.
You didn’t stop him.
And that was all it took.
He kissed you.
It wasn’t rough or rushed. It was deliberate warm and deep, his other hand finding your waist, grounding you. Like he was trying to memorize how you tasted, how you breathed, how still you went in his arms. You could feel the danger in it the sharp edge beneath the softness but you leaned in anyway.
When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath brushing your skin.
“That mouth of yours,” he muttered, voice hoarse now. “Even better when it’s not giving me attitude.”
You smiled slightly, dazed. “You want me quiet?”
“Hell no,” he said immediately. “I like it when you talk back. Gives me a reason to keep chasing.”
You bit your lip. “Then maybe I should keep running.”
He grinned, all wolfish charm. “Good. I’d hate if this got boring.”
You stood there a moment longer, your bodies close, the city around you a blur.
Then his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen and sighed.
“Shit. I’ve got somewhere to be.” His tone changed slightly colder. “Union meeting.”
You frowned. “Should I be worried about that?”
He hesitated. Just for a second.
Then “Not yet.”
You looked at him. Really looked.
Whatever the Union had on him, it wasn’t light.
“You’re going to get yourself hurt,” you said softly.
He met your eyes again. “So are you. If you keep getting closer.”
Then he stepped back. And like before, he walked away.
But this time, you knew he wouldn’t stay away for long.
