˙⋆✮ There's stardust in your veins and galaxies swirling in your soul ⋆✴︎
Hi everyone, welcome to my blog 𖹭
DNI if you're racist, homophobic, zionist, sexist, or anything of the kind thanks :)
K-DRAMAS I WRITE FOR: Weak Hero Class, Twinkling Watermelon, All Of Us Are Dead, Twenty-five Twenty-One, Racket Boys, Notes From The Last Row, [will update]
CURRENTLY WATCHING: Study Group.
CURRENT OBSESSION: Weak Hero Class.
Requests are: 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍
PS: If you request anonymously but still wish to have some sort of special relation with me, feel free to use an emoji and/or a special name so I can recognize you and we can build a bond together! :)
summary: Weak Hero Boys falling in love with a girl that is out of their league and so they just love from afar
type: kdrama, weak hero, headcanons
Yeon Sieun
It starts so quietly that even he cannot tell when admiration becomes something heavier. You are simply someone he notices more than other people. The way you laugh with everyone so easily. The way classrooms seem brighter when you walk into them. People naturally gather around you while he stays on the outside, watching from a distance that feels safe.
Sieun has never thought very highly of himself outside of academics. You're beautiful, effortlessly social, kind to everyone, and you have people lining up just to talk to you. While he's just himself. Quiet. Awkward. Difficult to read. He convinces himself that someone like you would eventually get bored of someone like him.
So he settles for observing.
He memorizes your routines without meaning to. Which desk you prefer. Which drinks you buy after school. When you're having a bad day based solely on how fast you're walking. Sometimes he'll quietly solve a problem before you even notice it exists. A missing worksheet somehow ends up back in your bag. The teacher suddenly remembers to extend a deadline after someone anonymously points out a mistake. You never know he had anything to do with it.
When you smile at him in the hallway, he always nods back.
Then he spends the next hour thinking about it.
Sometimes he catches himself wondering what it would be like to sit beside you every day instead of across the classroom. What it would feel like if you reached for his hand. The thought embarrasses him enough that he immediately buries himself in another textbook.
He never confesses. Not because he doesn't want to. Because he genuinely believes someone like you deserves someone brighter than him.
So he carries it alone until, eventually, loving you simply becomes another quiet habit he'll never talk about.
Ahn Suho
Suho falls hard, and that honestly makes things worse.
Everyone likes you. Of course they do. You're funny, talented, warm without trying, and somehow you make every room feel lighter. Standing next to you, Suho feels painfully ordinary despite how confident he usually is.
He jokes about everything. Except you.
Whenever you walk over to him, his friends notice the subtle difference immediately. His grin softens. He stops talking as loudly. For someone who's usually fearless, he suddenly becomes strangely careful with his words.
He almost asks you out more than once.
Almost.
Then someone prettier starts talking to you. Or someone wealthier. Or someone with better grades. Or someone whose future seems a lot more stable than his.
Each time, he laughs it off before he even gives himself the chance.
"Nah."
"She'd never go for me."
He says it with that usual easy smile, but every time those words leave his mouth, they hurt a little more.
Instead, he becomes your reliable friend. He drives you home when it's late. Carries heavy things without being asked. Shows up whenever you need help. He never asks for anything back.
Sometimes you thank him with a hug that lasts only a second. That single second is enough to keep him smiling for the rest of the week.
His biggest fear isn't rejection, It's making things awkward and losing the friendship altogether. So he would rather spend years loving you quietly than risk becoming someone you avoid.
Jeon Seokdae
Seokdae never thinks of you as someone who's "out of his league" because of looks. It's because of the life he has lived.
You've had opportunities he never did. You walk without looking over your shoulder. You have dreams that stretch years into the future. Standing beside you makes him painfully aware of everything his own life lacks.
He doesn't think he'd fit into your world. So he admires it from outside.
Whenever you talk about your future, he listens more than he speaks. University. Traveling. Careers. He secretly hopes every single one of those dreams comes true-Even if he isn't in any of them.
He becomes protective in subtle ways. Walking a little closer whenever it gets dark. Making sure you get home safely. Waiting until your apartment lights turn on before finally leaving. You assume he's just naturally considerate. He never corrects you.
Sometimes you ask him why he never dates anyone. He only shrugs.
"Haven't met the right person."
The irony almost makes him laugh.
Because he's looking directly at her.
Kang Wooyoung
For the first time in his life, Wooyoung discovers what insecurity feels like.
Usually he's loud. Confident. Cocky enough to flirt with anyone. Then you show up.
Suddenly every joke sounds stupid before he says it. Every compliment gets trapped in his throat.
He starts noticing the people around you instead. Successful athletes. Popular students. People whose confidence isn't just an act. Compared to them, he feels like an idiot throwing punches and making bad jokes.
So he keeps pretending none of it matters.
He still teases you. Still grins. Still acts completely unaffected.
But every time someone asks if the two of you are dating, he laughs a little too quickly.
"As if."
Inside, he wishes they were right.
Sometimes he catches you watching one of his matches. Those become the only fights where he genuinely wants to impress someone. Not the crowd. Just you. When you congratulate him afterward, he spends the rest of the night replaying those few words in his head.
He never tells you.
Park Humin (Baku)
Humin tries.
God, he really tries not to fall for you. He tells himself you're just nice. You're nice to everybody. That's all. But then you remember his birthday without reminders. You cheer louder than anyone when he succeeds. You laugh at jokes nobody else finds funny. Little by little, his heart stops listening to logic.
The problem is... You're incredible, Talented, Kind. The type of person everyone naturally loves. He doesn't see himself that way.
He worries he'd eventually disappoint you. That the excitement you feel around him now would disappear if you actually dated. So instead he becomes your biggest supporter. He's always the loudest person clapping for you. Always the first to encourage your hobbies. Always the first person volunteering to help.
People joke that he's practically your boyfriend already. He laughs with them. Then changes the subject before anyone notices how red his ears have become.
Go Hyuntak (Gotak)
Hyuntak hates feeling inadequate.
His bad knee already makes him question himself enough. Then you walk into his life looking like someone who deserves perfection.
He starts comparing himself to every guy who talks to you. They're healthier. Smarter. More successful. More attractive. The thoughts spiral before he can stop them.
Whenever you compliment him, he immediately brushes it off. Whenever you praise his basketball skills, he shrugs like it means nothing. He doesn't believe you. Not because he thinks you're lying. Because he genuinely can't imagine seeing himself through your eyes. So he settles into being your dependable friend.
Helping you carry groceries. Fixing things around your house. Walking you home. Never asking for more.
Sometimes his hand brushes yours by accident. He pulls away first every single time. Not because he doesn't want to hold it. Because he's convinced it was never supposed to happen.
Geum Seongje
Nobody believes Seongje when he says he isn't going to make a move. Not even himself-At first.
He's used to chasing whatever catches his interest. Used to taking risks simply because they're entertaining. Then he actually gets to know you. And somehow... That makes him stop.
You are so effortlessly good that he becomes painfully aware of every ugly part of himself. The violence. The cigarettes. The impulsiveness. The selfish streak he normally wears like a badge of honor.
For the first time, he looks at someone and thinks, "I'd ruin her." It's such an unfamiliar feeling that it irritates him.
He still hangs around you. Still jokes. Still smiles that infuriating smile. But there's an invisible line he refuses to cross.
Sometimes he almost says something. Almost. Then he notices the genuine trust in your eyes. And swallows every word.
Losing the chance to love you hurts.
Losing your respect would hurt even more.
Na Baekjin
Baekjin reaches a conclusion long before his feelings fully develop. You are incompatible. Not emotionally, Practically.
His life revolves around responsibility, strategy, conflict, and constant pressure. Yours doesn't. And he refuses to drag someone like you into that world. Even if every quiet conversation with you becomes the best part of his day.
He starts making excuses to see you. Offering help with assignments. Walking the same route home. Remembering things you mentioned weeks ago. Never enough to seem suspicious. Just enough to keep you in his orbit.
Sometimes he catches himself imagining impossible futures. Quiet mornings. Shared apartments. Simple happiness. The kind of life he secretly wants but has already convinced himself he'll never have. When reality returns, he quietly files those thoughts away like unfinished paperwork.
No one ever realizes he was in love. Not even you.
Because Baekjin has always been frighteningly good at hiding the things that matter most.
Baek Dongha
Dongha acts like nothing affects him. He jokes. Flirts with other people. Pretends everything rolls off his shoulders.
Then you compliment another guy.
He laughs along with everyone else. Later that night, he stares at his bedroom ceiling wondering why something so small bothered him so much.
You're simply too good. Too genuine.
You deserve someone who isn't constantly surrounded by trouble. Someone who doesn't carry as much baggage as he does. He convinces himself you'd eventually leave anyway. So why make things harder?
Instead he becomes comfortable standing beside you without ever reaching for your hand. He's happy enough hearing you laugh. Happy enough being included. Happy enough pretending that's all he ever wanted. It's a lie.
But one he repeats often enough that eventually everyone believes it. Including you.
Do Seongmok
Seongmok falls in love in complete silence.
Nothing changes on the surface. He still speaks very little. Still watches more than he talks. Still appears beside you whenever you need help without explaining how he knew. The only difference is the care becomes softer. More instinctive.
If you're cold, his jacket is already over your shoulders. If you're carrying something heavy, it's somehow no longer in your hands. If you're exhausted, he quietly finishes whatever task you're struggling with before disappearing again. He never expects thanks. Just seeing your relieved smile is enough.
Sometimes he catches himself imagining what life would be like if he were brave enough. The thoughts never last long. He has convinced himself that someone like you deserves someone who speaks more. Laughs more. Dreams bigger. Not someone as quiet and complicated as him. So he continues loving you in the only way he believes he's allowed to. Silently. From a distance.
SUMMARY: Weak Hero Boys forgetting their own birthday.
PAIRINGS: Yeon Sieun, Ahn Suho, Oh Beomseok, Park Humin, Go Hyuntak, Seo Juntae, Na Baekjin, Geum Seongje.
WORD COUNT: 1.318 K.
GENRE: Fluff,
WARNING: None,
NOTE: because i didn't want to do angst and this prompt is lowkey funny (sue my terrible humor), also sorry for the lack of posts but I'm busy these days (basically babysitting two kids for a week lol) so I'll try and do little posts like this here and there but probably won't answer any requests soon I'm very sorry :((
TAGLIST — @whcfreak, @suhoholic, @10baku, @christinamadsen, @heartshapesandcigarettes, @vamp18e, @ashayein, @stasiamazia, @aliceskzfan
— YEON SIEUN
This man could remember to the very last thing about you—like "you did that on august 23 2021" level—and then just forget he's born one day and needs to be celebrated for it,
Would never EVER forget your birthday but his?? Boy does he care,
Genuinely doesn't understand why you're surprised or that it might seem odd to you,
"everyone remembers their birthday! we're waiting for it all year long" vs "i don't"; this conversation can be very long,
I feel like his own parents would forget his birthday when he was young or not celebrate it because they're 'so busy' so he'd rather not do anything at all then celebrate it alone,
Slowly learns that it might be important to you and his friends, because you love him and want to celebrate him as he deserves to be,
— AHN SUHO
We've seen it in the show, couldn't care less about it,
He doesn't see the point nor wants any of you and his friends to make a big fuss out of it,
That "don't worry about it, I don't care" energy because he is SO used to taking care of everyone else that poor baby,
But it really means the world to him if you actually celebrate it, even if you can barely afford a cupcake and a smile he'll cherish it to his last days,
Would love anything as gifts but mostly those personal and meaningful gifts (handmade or not, the kind where you say "it makes me think of you" while offering it and he's over the moon),
If you're going out like at a karaoke or something, he'll puff his chest and just overall act so proud holding you close by the waist, that "that's my girlfriend" kinda energy (would love hearing you sing happy birthday idk why),
— OH BEOMSEOK
How can he remember his birthday with all the punches and kicks he took to the head (sorry),
Genuinely so surprised and even doubts you when you wish him because what do you mean it's actually today,
Still manages to make him smile whenever you remember something about him so this is not an exception,
Feels seen and loved, which he hasn't been much in life, so couldn't be any more touched by your sweet words and presence for the whole day (not that you don't give him any on any other day),
Spends the day by your side, smiling at you and insisting on buying you things on his birthday (or worse, buying his own birthday presents (you almost smack his head at the idea)),
Would love more than anything to be able to offer you a heartfelt confession by the end of the day to tell you how much he cares about you but the words are stuck in his throat so he just ends up wrapping you in a really big hug that squishes the air out of your lungs (and makes your eyes teary),
— PARK HUMIN
Absolute dramatic,
Would NOT forget his birthday but even if he did, you'd probably not get to be the first to wish him (gotak or even sieun probably beat you to it once at school),
But imagining he went to sleep at yours (or vice versa) and he wakes up besides you, wondering with that playful smile of his why you're grinning so vividly at ten in the morning—oh he's happy,
Spends the whole day grinning from ear to ear, nothing could beat his mood,
Wants to be the king and everyone to obey to his every wishes for the whole day (gotak is not playing along (you are (he requires a billionth kisses))),
Claims with his whole heart it's the best day of his life and probably cries when Sieun gets him a gift (would try and be slick by acting it's still his birthday the next day—no one falls for it),
— GO HYUNTAK
Absolutely forgets his birthday,
He just strikes me as the type to think of everyone and everything except himself all the time (suho 2.0),
Baku is also not helping because he barely remembers anything himself (forgets gotak's birthday more than once only to show up at his doorstep at eleven in the night with a birthday cake and a handmade gift claiming "it's not midnight it's still your birthday"),
Gotak secretly loved it,
So when you send him a text the day of his birthday the second you wake up he's kinda thrown off but deeply touched,
Wants to spend the day with the people he loves not having to worry about anything, and eventually you manage to make it come true for him (might take you in for a long hug in a quiet moment of the day and you know this just means so much for him, more than words can express),
— SEO JUNTAE
I'd so see him working really hard on a test (since he's trying so much, especially since sieun is at eunjang) and so completely forget his birthday, replaced by stress,
When you welcome him at the school gates with a wide smile and bright eyes, all stress from his grades is forgotten, replaced by sparkling eyes and joyful mood,
He wants to make his day perfect for you as well, making sure you, who makes him happy everyday, also get your shared part of celebrating (even more if you resist it),
I think he'd easily get flustered from all the attention, trying to turn it around on others/on you because he loves to exist within you and his friends—not being the main character of it all 24/7,
Could be the happiest with any gifts or no gifts at all—seems cliché but his greatest gift is to be with you and his friends, without having the constant worry and pressure of the Union or any problems/conflicts,
In the end is just happy to be with you, reminding himself daily—and even more during those special days—how lucky he is to have someone like you by his side,
— NA BAEKJIN
SO busy with the Union of course he'd forget,
Sadly no one from the Union knows/dares to wish him happy birthday (except maybe Seongje with that smug smirk),
Frowns when you show up at the bowling alley because he doesn't like the idea of you hanging there at all, only for his eyes to soften when you smile widely and pull out a small birthday cake,
You convince him to go back at your place for once and his eyes widen when he sees another, bigger birthday cake with decorations all over it for him,
Smiles softly and eventually let's himself relax in the inside of your warm home, following your lead and accepting his presents all the while you cover his face with kisses because you just missed him that much (you barely see him since he overworks himself so much),
Still makes sure one or two Union members (probably Dongha and Seongmok) stays outside your house so no one can disturb that rare moment of peace,
— GEUM SEONGJE
You'd think this guy wouldn't forget his birthday because he can be so full of himself—put him before a screen and he can't even remember to eat,
Genuinely turned you down when you invited him out because he needed to gain a better rank, you know how important it is...
Of course you didn't take his bullshit and still insisted on making his birthday something else than a screen and your presence he was barely aware of besides him,
Either you managed to take him out (hats off to you), or you're hanging out in either of your houses, hopefully keeping him away from whatever screens for a while,
Acts like he doesn't care and can't wait for the day to be over but you can see the faint smile tugging at his lips when you offer him his presents or give him his big birthday kiss,
Okayyy sooo how about Suho x reader (who is his gf) being the it couple?like everyone knows you’re his and no one dares to flirt with you. But one day a new student comes and he flirts with you and tho you tell him you’re not interested and taken, he doesn’t back down (cause ofc he doesn’t know Suho) and the guys friend warn him and tell him that you’re Suho’s girl and he’s like “who the fuck is that” while laughing and then Suho comes up from behind him and he’s like “keep talking to my girl and you’ll find out”
The guy never bothered you again.
Sorry if it’s good specific😭 If you don’t want then obviously you don’t have to do it💗💗💗
➥ 𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐏𝐋𝐄; αhn suho
〆: no warnings, just a jerk trying to get the girl.
⌊ In where that new guy didn´t know who Ahn Suho is... and why he shouldn't be flirting with that girl...⌋
⚝: Hi! On the contrary, thank you so much for being so specific with your request. That way you give me more material to work with, and I can bring you exactly, or at least as close as possible, to what you have in mind. Thanks again, and I really hope you enjoy it!
Everyone in that institute knew exactly who Ahn Suho was. It was an unwritten rule, basic knowledge you picked up on your very first day of classes.
Suho was the guy you did not mess with. He was the best fighter in the whole place, the kid who could take down five bullies at once without even breaking a sweat, and the one who spent most of his classes asleep at his desk.
His reputation preceded him, full of stories about how he had taken down entire gangs from other schools with a smile on his face and a yawn.
But there was another rule, one even more important and much stricter than not waking Suho up when he was sleeping. That rule was very simple: no one, under any circumstances, was to look at, talk too much about, or flirt with his girlfriend.
She and Suho were what all the students called the school's "It couple." Ever since they had started dating almost a year ago, their relationship had become the center of everyone's attention.
They were the perfect balance. He was the strong, feared, and loud guy when he was awake, and she was the quiet, smart, sweet girl who always had a smile for everyone else.
The dynamic between them was something everyone watched with a mix of envy and admiration. Suho treated her like she was the greatest and most valuable treasure on planet Earth. He always waited for her at the school gate every day, carried her backpack no matter how heavy it was, bought her favorite strawberry milk during breaks, and always had an arm draped over her shoulders when they walked through the hallways.
If she was nearby, Suho's bored, tired look completely disappeared and was replaced by soft eyes full of love.
He was a giant guard dog who only wagged his tail for her.
Of course, because of this, no guy in the entire school dared to approach her with romantic intentions. Everyone knew that if someone tried to flirt with her, Suho would find out in less than five minutes and the consequences would be painful and very humiliating.
The guys treated her with great respect, greeted her from a distance, and avoided making prolonged eye contact. She knew her boyfriend was intimidating, but she didn't mind. She loved Suho just the way he was, even if he got straight F's in math.
Her life at school was peaceful and predictable. Until a new student arrived.
It was a Tuesday morning, classes had started as usual. The math teacher walked into the classroom, tapped the blackboard with his wooden ruler to ask for silence, and announced that they had a new transfer student from a school in the southern part of the city.
The new kid walked into the classroom with slow but confident steps. His name was Kangdae. He was tall, had dark hair slicked back with a lot of gel, wore his uniform unbuttoned at the top, and had an arrogant smile on his face.
He walked like he owned the world. At his old school, Kangdae had been the popular guy, the heartbreaker who could get any girl he wanted, and he clearly thought things would be exactly the same here.
Kangdae introduced himself in front of the class with a strong, confident voice. As he spoke, his eyes scanned the students' desks. And then, he saw her.
She was sitting in the third row, near the window, taking notes in her notebook with deep concentration. Kangdae felt his heart skip a little beat.
She seemed like the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. She had shiny hair, fair skin, and such a focused expression that Kangdae found it very attractive.
Right at that moment, Kangdae decided she was going to be his new target. He always got what he wanted, and he was sure she wouldn't be the exception.
What Kangdae didn't notice, because he was too busy looking at her, was the guy sitting in the back row. Ahn Suho was asleep, his head resting on his arms on the desk, completely unaware of the new student's introduction.
The teacher pointed for Kangdae to take a seat in one of the empty spots near the front. Kangdae obeyed, but he didn't stop looking at the girl by the window for the entire class period.
When the bell rang for recess, students started getting up from their seats to head to the cafeteria. Suho was still fast asleep. She put her pens in her pencil case, closed her notebook, and got up from her chair.
She knew Suho was very tired because he had been working his part-time job the night before, so she decided to let him sleep a little longer and go buy some snacks for both of them by herself.
She left the classroom and walked down the hallway. There were a lot of people, but she walked calmly. However, she didn't realize that some footsteps were following closely behind her.
Kangdae had seen the perfect opportunity. The pretty girl was alone, walking toward the lockers. He quickened his pace, approached her, and stepped in front of her, resting one hand on the metal lockers to block her path.
She stopped, surprised, and took a small step back. She looked up and saw the new guy, Kangdae.
"Hey," Kangdae said, flashing his best flirty smile, the one that according to him melted all the girls. "I'm Kangdae. I was introduced earlier in the classroom."
She looked at him calmly. She was used to people talking to her, but this guy's attitude was way too invasive. She didn't like being blocked like that.
"Hi. Welcome to the school. If you'll excuse me, I'm in a hurry, I need to get to the cafeteria before the line gets longer," she replied politely, trying to step sideways to go around him.
But Kangdae moved his arm and blocked her again, not wiping that arrogant smile off his face.
"Relax, the cafeteria's not going anywhere. I just wanted to introduce myself properly. You're really pretty, you know that? At my old school, there weren't any girls as cute as you. I thought maybe we could grab lunch together, my treat. Or if you want, I can walk you home after class."
She frowned slightly. The situation was no longer just awkward, it was becoming really annoying. She was a kind person, but she also knew how to set very clear boundaries.
"I appreciate it, but I'm not interested," she said, her voice firm and clear, looking him straight in the eye. "And besides, I have a boyfriend. So, please, let me pass."
Any other normal guy in that school, or any other school for that matter, would have apologized immediately, lowered his head, and quickly walked away upon hearing the word "boyfriend."
But Kangdae had an enormous ego. He was convinced his charm was irresistible and that girls usually played hard to get at first just to get more attention.
Kangdae let out a small laugh and stepped closer to her, invading her personal space even more.
"A boyfriend? That's a shame. But hey, boyfriends don't last forever, right?" Kangdae said, his tone teasing. "I bet your boyfriend is one of those boring guys who only talks about video games or exams. I can offer you something much more fun... You don't have to be so shy with me."
She felt her patience running out. She pressed her lips together.
"I'm not shy, I just don't want to talk to you. My boyfriend isn't boring, and I love him very much. Now, move out of my way before this becomes a problem," she warned him, her tone getting harder.
Some students passing by in the hallway started to stop. Several guys and girls looked at the scene with their eyes wide open in terror.
Everyone recognized the girl. Everyone knew she was Ahn Suho's girlfriend. And everyone was watching the clueless new student dig his own grave in real time.
Whispers started filling the school hallway: "Is that the new guy? What's he doing?", "He's crazy, he's flirting with her.", "If Suho wakes up and sees him, he's going to kill him."
Kangdae heard the whispers around him but didn't pay them much attention. He thought the other students were impressed by his boldness or jealous of him. He had no idea of the truth.
"I like girls with attitude," Kangdae replied, completely ignoring her rejection. "I promise I'll change your mind. See you later, gorgeous."
Finally, Kangdae lowered his arm, giving her space to pass. She shot him a look of pure annoyance and walked quickly toward the cafeteria, wanting to get away from him as soon as possible.
That was only the first attempt.
Unfortunately for her, Kangdae turned out to be incredibly persistent and stubborn. Over the next two days, the new student became a constant nuisance.
He seemed incapable of understanding the word "no."
On Wednesday morning, when she arrived at school and opened her locker to put her books away, Kangdae appeared out of nowhere and leaned against the locker next to hers. He offered her an orange juice and gave her a very tacky compliment about her school uniform.
She immediately refused the juice, slammed her locker shut, and walked to her classroom without saying a word to him.
During PE class, while everyone was running on the court, Kangdae managed to jog right next to her. He tried to make conversation about the weather, about sports, and about how much he went to the gym to build muscle.
She simply ignored him for the entire hour.
For her, this was an unbearable headache. She wanted to tell Suho what was going on, but she hesitated a lot. She knew her boyfriend's temper.
If Suho found out that a new guy was harassing her and flirting with her every day, Suho wouldn't hesitate for a second to break the new kid's nose in front of all the teachers, and she didn't want Suho to get into trouble or get suspended from school over a fight.
She figured if she kept ignoring him, Kangdae would eventually get bored and leave her alone.
But Kangdae didn't get bored. In fact, the constant rejection only made his ego feel more challenged. He wanted to prove to everyone at his new school that he was the best and that he could win over the hard-to-get girl.
On Thursday at noon, things reached their peak.
Lunchtime had started. The cafeteria was full of students eating, talking, and laughing in groups. She had finished her lunch and headed to the back of the school building, near some old large trees, a quiet spot where she sometimes liked to sit and read while waiting for Suho to finish his rounds of sleep in the classroom.
She was sitting on a wooden bench, flipping through the pages of a novel, enjoying the silence, when she heard footsteps approaching through the grass.
She looked up and, to her total despair, saw Kangdae walking toward her. This time, Kangdae wasn't alone. He was accompanied by two other guys from class who had apparently become his new "friends."
These two guys were average students, guys who knew the school rules very well and, above all, knew Suho's reputation. The two friends walked a couple of steps behind Kangdae, looking extremely nervous, glancing around as if they were expecting a lion to jump out of the bushes at any moment.
Kangdae approached the bench with his hands in his pockets. He stopped right in front of her, blocking the sunlight.
"Hey again. I've been looking for you all over the cafeteria," Kangdae said, with that same arrogant smile that was already giving her a headache. "I thought we could hang out. My friends and I were thinking of going to the karaoke rooms after class. You should come with us. You can stop reading boring books and have some fun."
She closed her book with a snap. Her patience was completely gone. She stood up from the wooden bench, crossed her arms over her chest, and looked at him with an expression of absolute rejection and anger.
"Kangdae, I've told you so many times. I'm not interested in you. I don't want to go to karaoke with you, I don't want to talk to you, I don't want you to offer me juices, and I don't want you to keep looking for me," she said, raising her voice to make sure her message was clear and strong. "I told you from day one that I have a boyfriend. What part of that don't you understand? You're so annoying. Leave me alone once and for all."
Her words were so direct and harsh that anyone with a shred of common sense would have backed away in embarrassment. But Kangdae's ego was bruised from being rejected in front of his two new friends.
Instead of backing off, Kangdae decided he needed to act dominant.
Kangdae took a step toward her, closing the distance in a very aggressive way. She felt a little scared, but stood her ground without stepping back.
"Hey, you don't have to be so rude," Kangdae said, his voice sounding deeper and more threatening. "I'm just trying to be nice. And I keep hearing the same excuse about your famous boyfriend, but I've been at this school for three days and I haven't seen any boyfriend by your side. Is he a coward who hides? Or did you make him up to play hard to get? Like I told you before, whoever your boyfriend is, I guarantee I'm a hundred times better than him."
The two friends standing behind Kangdae turned pale when they heard those words. One of them, a short guy with glasses, started sweating cold. He looked around in panic, knowing that talking badly about this girl's boyfriend was like signing a death sentence at that school.
The guy with glasses slowly approached Kangdae and tapped him on the shoulder with trembling hands.
"H-hey, Kangdae..." the friend stammered, his voice full of fear. "Just leave her alone. You don't know what you're getting yourself into. Let's get out of here, please."
Kangdae turned to his friend and slapped his hand away, looking at him with contempt.
"What are you talking about, idiot? I'm not going anywhere. I'm just talking to her. I'm not afraid of her imaginary boyfriend," Kangdae said, laughing mockingly.
The other friend, who was also terrified, stepped back, shaking his head quickly.
"I-it's not imaginary, Kangdae. We're serious. Dude, that's Suho's girl!" the other guy warned him, almost shouting in desperation. "She's Ahn Suho's girlfriend. You have to stop, he's going to kill you!"
Kangdae frowned for a second. He heard the name, but it didn't mean anything to him. He came from another area, didn't know the school's legends, and didn't care.
To him, this Suho must have just been some random student, maybe a guy from a sports club who thought he was important. Kangdae let out a loud, exaggerated laugh. He threw his head back, laughing out loud in front of her and his terrified friends.
"Suho?" Kangdae asked between laughs. "Who the hell is this Suho? Am I supposed to be scared of such a ridiculous name? I bet you anything that if this guy shows up here, I'll have him on his knees in two seconds and teach him to respect his elders. I'm the best here, let that be very clear to everyone."
Kangdae's laughter echoed in the back of the school. She looked at Kangdae with a mix of anger and pity, because she knew exactly what was about to happen.
Kangdae's two friends, however, weren't laughing. They had frozen completely, staring at a fixed point right behind Kangdae's back, their eyes so wide they looked like they were about to pop out of their sockets.
The atmosphere suddenly felt very heavy, the temperature seemed to drop a few degrees. Behind Kangdae, walking with very quiet steps, like a predator stalking its prey, appeared Ahn Suho.
Suho wore his jacket unbuttoned, revealing the t-shirt he always wore under his uniform, which he also never buttoned up. His hands were in his pockets. His hair was a little messy from having been asleep, but his dark eyes showed not a single hint of drowsiness.
His eyes were fixed on the new kid's back, gleaming with a fury so intense it could freeze the blood of anyone who looked at him. Kangdae's two friends stepped back three steps at the same time, lowered their heads, and fell into absolute silence, praying for their lives.
Kangdae, seeing that his friends had suddenly gone quiet and were trembling, stopped laughing. He frowned and turned to look at the girl. She wasn't looking at him. She was looking over his shoulder, and a small smile of relief had appeared on her face.
"What's wrong? Why are you all looking at me like that?" Kangdae asked, realizing something was very wrong.
Before Kangdae could turn around to see what was behind him, he felt a presence at his back. He felt the heat of another body very close and heard calm breathing.
And then, the deepest, calmest voice Kangdae had ever heard in his life resonated directly in his right ear.
"Keep talking to my girl and you'll find out very soon."
Suho's voice was like a bucket of ice water being dumped over Kangdae's head.
The new kid felt a shiver run down his entire spine. Every muscle in his body froze in fear. Slowly, with great dread, Kangdae turned his head over his shoulder.
Ahn Suho was standing right behind him, less than a meter away. Suho was a little taller than him, but the real difference wasn't physical, it was the energy the guy radiated.
Suho wasn't smiling. His face was completely serious, his jaw was tense, and his dark eyes looked at Kangdae as if he were a mere insect about to be crushed against the ground.
Kangdae swallowed with great difficulty. The knot in his throat wouldn't let him breathe properly. Suddenly, all the ego, all the arrogance, and all the confidence he had been showing off minutes before completely vanished into thin air.
Kangdae realized that this guy in front of him wasn't a normal student. This guy was the school's predator, and he had just walked straight into his territory.
"I-I... I was just..." Kangdae stammered, stepping back awkwardly, stumbling a little over his own feet to get away from Suho's presence.
Suho took a step forward, closing the distance immediately, forcing Kangdae to step back again. Suho took his hands out of his pockets and crossed his arms. He tilted his head slightly to the side, analyzing the new kid from head to toe with contempt.
"I heard you wanted to take her to karaoke," Suho said, his voice still calm, but every word sounded sharp. "And I also heard you thought you could put me on my knees in two seconds. I'd love to see you try... I'm waiting."
Suho spread his arms a little, offering Kangdae the chance to throw a punch, with a challenging look.
Kangdae felt his heart pounding a thousand miles an hour. He didn't dare move a single finger. He looked at Suho's hands, the broad knuckles that clearly had a lot of fighting experience, and then looked back at the dark, compassionless eyes of the guy.
Fear took over his nervous system. "N-no, no, it was a misunderstanding," Kangdae replied, his voice high-pitched with panic, raising his hands in surrender, sweating cold. "I didn't know who you were. I swear, I didn't. I didn't mean to disrespect anyone. I'm leaving. I'm getting out of here right now."
Suho didn't change his hard expression. He took another step toward Kangdae, getting so close that the new student almost stopped breathing.
"Listen to me very carefully, new kid, because I'm only going to tell you this once in your entire life," Suho warned him, dropping his voice even lower so it sounded like a threat. "This girl is mine. She's my girlfriend. And if I ever see you within three meters of her again, if I ever hear that you offered her a juice, if you ever jog next to her in class again, or if you so much as dare to look at her for more than three seconds, I swear on my life that I will break every single bone in your body and send you back to your old school in an ambulance. Was I clear enough for your brain, or do you need me to explain it with my fists right now?"
Kangdae nodded his head so fast and so hard he almost got dizzy. Panic was evident all over his pale face.
"I-it was very clear! It was very clear, I swear! I'm never going near her again, ever! I'm so sorry!" Kangdae screamed, desperate to get out of that situation alive.
Suho looked at him with disgust for one more second. Then, he made a quick movement with his arm, pretending to throw a punch directly at the new kid's face.
Kangdae let out a scream of terror, covered his face with both arms, and threw himself to the ground on the grass, expecting the impact that would knock him out.
But the punch never came.
Suho lowered his arm, let out a small mocking laugh, and shook his head, watching the guy tremble on the ground.
"Get out of my sight. Now," Suho ordered firmly.
Kangdae jumped up from the ground as fast as he could, his uniform covered in dirt and grass. He didn't even look at his two friends, who were still frozen. The new kid turned around and ran off at full speed, almost tripping, getting away from the area as fast as his legs would carry him, disappearing behind the main school building.
His two friends, seeing that he had escaped, also made a quick apologetic bow toward Suho and ran after Kangdae as if the devil himself was chasing them.
Silence and peace returned to the back of the school. Suho sighed, running a hand through his hair to tidy it a little.
The second he turned around to look at his girlfriend, all the coldness in his gaze magically disappeared from his face, as if he had taken off a mask. His eyes were soft again, bright, and full of affection.
He walked toward her, with a wide, relaxed smile on his face. He stopped in front of her and looked her up and down, making sure she was okay.
"Are you okay, babe? Did that idiot do anything to you?" Suho asked, his voice sweet and worried, extending his hands to take hers.
She smiled, feeling her heart fill with so much love for him. She interlaced her fingers with Suho's and squeezed his warm hands.
"I'm fine, Suho. He didn't do anything to me, he was just really persistent and wouldn't take no for an answer," she replied, looking into his eyes with tenderness. "But you scared me. I didn't want you to get into trouble over a stupid fight at school. That's why I didn't tell you anything, I thought he'd give up quickly."
Suho made a small childish pout when he heard that, a gesture he only made when he was with her. He let go of one of her hands and used his arm to wrap around her waist, pulling her toward him, hugging her tightly.
"I don't care about trouble at school, I care about you," Suho told her, lowering his face to bury it in her neck, breathing in the scent of her sweet perfume. "You're my girlfriend, and it's my job to make sure nobody bothers you. You should have told me from the very beginning. That idiot was lucky I wasn't awake in the morning, otherwise he wouldn't have had the chance to bother you even once."
She let out a small laugh, hugging him back, feeling the comfort of Suho's strong body against hers.
"You're so jealous, Ahn Suho," she whispered affectionately, resting her head on his shoulder.
Suho pulled back a little, looking into her eyes with a bright, proud smile.
"I'm just protecting what's mine. Everyone needs to know that the most beautiful and smartest girl in this world already has an owner, and that her boyfriend is the best fighter of them all," Suho joked, giving her a quick, very sweet kiss on the tip of her nose, making her smile even wider.
"You have such a big ego sometimes," she laughed, taking his hand again.
"My ego is justified because I have you by my side," Suho replied, winking at her playfully, back to being his usual relaxed self. "Now, come on. Let's get out of here. I already lost too much sleep time because of that idiot and I'm really hungry. I'll treat you to your favorite cake and then you let me sleep on your lap in the classroom for a bit, okay?"
She nodded her head, very happy.
"Okay, let's go. But you're paying for the cake," she told him, starting to walk.
Suho laughed, put his arm around her shoulders, and they both started walking together toward the school cafeteria, as if nothing bad had happened.
They were the perfect balance again, the couple everyone admired.
And just as Suho had promised, Kangdae never bothered her again. In fact, from that day on, whenever Kangdae saw her walking through the school hallways, he would quickly change direction, lower his gaze to the ground, and hide behind his friends, terrified that the guy would appear out of nowhere to carry out his threat.
does y'all actually have any idea how much I love this man because even I can barely get it in my own head (also you probably already this angel but go check their work it's so perfect and scrumptious)
“After being shattered by a cruel love, you became a living statue. But with a single touch, a gentle hand in the dark, you will begin to find your way back to the world.”
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
𓍢ִ໋🌹͙֒ Ahn Suho x Catatonic!Reader ┊ Mention of toxic relationship, bullying, reader enter a state of catatonia, angst ┊ 10.4k words
Catatonia : a psychomotor syndrome where the mind, overwhelmed by trauma, forces the body into a profound state of stillness. It is a terrifying, waking absence, where the soul becomes a silent observer trapped within a body that has chosen to shut down.
The hospital room was stark, sterile, and silent. The only sound was the soft hum of the fluorescent lights above and the faint, rhythmic beeping of the IV pump beside her bed. She stared at the ceiling, seeing nothing, feeling nothing. A profound emptiness had taken root inside her, a void where her laughter, her joy, her very self used to be.
It had all started so simply, so innocently. A glance across a crowded hallway, a nervous conversation, the giddy excitement of becoming Seongje's girlfriend. Being with him felt like a title, a status symbol that brought both attention and a quiet, unsettling ownership.
People knew her as "Seongje's girl," and for a while, she was proud of it. She ignored the way his gaze often slid past her to linger on others, the way he laughed off the cruel jokes the Union made at her expense. He was a thrill, a force of nature, and she was so caught up in his orbit that she didn't realize she was being torn apart.
Sieun saw it from a distance. He'd catch glimpses of her, a ghost of her former self, walking through the halls with her shoulders hunched. Her once-bright eyes were now shadowed and dull.
He'd seen her once, sitting alone in the cafeteria, tracing patterns on her food tray while Seongje was across the room, openly flirting with some girl, his friends egging him on. The image stuck with him—the sight of her, so utterly alone in a room full of people, with the person she loved most treating her like an inconvenience.
The torment wasn't just emotional. The Union members, egged on by Seongje’s passive indifference, had found her an easy target. Small, cruel pranks escalated into constant harassment. Her locker was vandalized. Her books went missing.
Every day was a new form of psychological torture, and she had nowhere to turn. Seongje would just shrug it off, a smirk on his face. "Lighten up," he'd say. "It's just a joke."
The spark she once had, that vivacious, joyful light, was slowly extinguished. She became a shell. The girl who used to smile so easily now just stared. The girl who once filled a room with her energy was now a silent, withdrawn figure, retreating further and further into herself until she completely disappeared.
One day, she just didn't show up. Not at school, not at their usual meeting spot. She just... vanished. Seongje barely noticed at first, too preoccupied with his own fun. When he finally did, he was more annoyed than concerned. "Where did she go?" he'd grumble to his friends. "She's so dramatic."
He didn't know that she had finally reached her breaking point. She walked for hours, her mind a blur of hurt and betrayal, until her legs gave out and she collapsed on a quiet side street. She was found by a passing couple, their horrified faces a distant blur as they called for help.
When she woke up, she was in a hospital. But the trauma had been too much. The doctors tried to talk to her, to understand what had happened, but she was gone. Her mind, in a desperate act of self-preservation, had completely shut down. She wouldn't speak. She wouldn't eat. She wouldn't even meet their gaze.
The hospital was ill-equipped to handle the depths of her psychological state. After a few days, a transfer was arranged. She was moved from the clinical silence of the general hospital to the more specialized, guarded silence of a psychiatric ward nearby.
The doctors there called it a catatonic state, a complete break from reality. Her body was present, but her mind was lost, hiding somewhere deep within itself, far from the pain and betrayal that had broken her.
The empty hallways and barred windows of the psychiatric hospital became her new reality, a self-imposed prison where she could finally be at peace, away from the boy who never saw her, and the world that let her fall.
A thick silence hung over the group, heavier than the summer humidity. They were at their usual hangout spot, but the easy banter was gone, replaced by a tense, somber mood.
"Did you hear?" Juntae's voice was a low rumble. "She's... still in there."
Humin sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah. I saw her dad the other day. He said she hasn't said a word. The doctors don't know what to do."
Sieun stared at his hands, his knuckles white. He hadn't seen her in a while, but the image of her gaunt face and hollow eyes was burned into his memory. He felt a sharp pang of guilt. He had seen what was happening, but he hadn't done anything. He had just watched from the sidelines as she crumbled.
Gotak, ever the stoic one, just shook his head. "Seongje's a piece of work. How could he just... do that to someone?"
A cold knot twisted in Seongje's gut. He had heard the whispers, the accusations, the pitying glances. He felt their judgment, sharp and unforgiving.
He had tried to forget about her, to move on as if she had never existed, but her absence was a gaping hole in his world. He told himself he was just annoyed, that she was just being dramatic. But deep down, a dark, unsettling feeling gnawed at him. He couldn't quite name it, but he knew it wasn't anger. It was something else, something much more frightening.
He had visited her once. He told himself it was just to prove to the others that he wasn't a monster, that he cared. He had walked into the sterile, white room and found her sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the wall. Her face was blank, her eyes vacant.
He tried to talk to her, to explain that he was sorry, that he didn't mean to hurt her, but the words felt hollow and fake. He had looked at her, at the broken shell of the girl he had once called his, and felt a rush of something he couldn't comprehend.
He had turned and walked away, a bitter taste in his mouth, telling himself that she was just a lost cause.
Sieun, however, couldn't stay away. He visited her every week, a silent vigil of remorse and compassion. He would sit in a chair by her bed and talk, even though he knew she wasn't really listening.
He would talk about Suho, his coma, about their fights and their triumphs, about the everyday things that filled their lives. He hoped that maybe, just maybe, a small part of her could hear him.
One day, he was sitting there, talking about a particularly frustrating day at school, when he saw it. A single tear, a tiny drop of moisture, rolled down her cheek. It was gone as quickly as it had appeared, but it was enough.
It was a sign that she was still there, somewhere, trapped inside her own mind. It was a glimmer of hope, a fragile promise that one day, she might find her way back.
Sieun kept visiting, a silent, steady presence in her life. He was there for her not because he had to be, but because he felt a responsibility to her, a deep and abiding need to help her find her way back to the world.
He was her only connection to a life she had lost, a single thread holding her to a world that had so cruelly abandoned her. He would not let go.
The sterile air of the hospital room was broken only by the soft beeping of machines and the low murmur of conversation. After what felt like an eternity, Suho was finally awake. He had been through so much, and now, here he was, sitting up in bed, a ghost of his former self but with his sharp mind fully intact.
Sieun spent hours with him, catching him up on the years he’d lost. He talked about the Union, about Humin, Hyuntak, and Juntae, and about the brutal, everyday reality of their school.
One day, a quiet moment fell between them. Suho, his voice a little hoarse from disuse, said, “You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you?”
Sieun nodded, a heavy feeling settling in his chest. “Yeah. We all have.”
He hesitated for a long moment, then decided to bring up something he hadn't yet mentioned. "There's something else, though," he began, his voice barely a whisper. "Something... or someone."
Suho turned his head, a question in his eyes.
"Seongje’s ex-girlfriend," Sieun said. "She was with him, but he just... broke her. He let the Union mess with her, and he never did anything about it."
Suho’s face hardened. "The same Seongje you told me about? The one who runs with the Union?"
"Yeah," Sieun confirmed. "She was so full of life, but she just... faded. She went crazy from it all, and she's in a psychiatric hospital now. She won't talk to anyone. She just stares into space."
Suho was silent for a while, processing the story. "That's terrible. How could he do that to someone?"
"He's a monster," Sieun said, his voice laced with venom. "I've been visiting her. She's completely shut down. It's like no one's home."
"What's her name?" Suho asked.
"Y/n," Sieun replied, the name feeling heavy on his tongue.
A thoughtful expression crossed Suho's face. "And you said she won't talk to anyone, right? Not even you?"
"No. Not a word," Sieun confirmed. "I just sit there and talk to her, hoping something gets through. I even talked about you and our crew, about everything that happened."
Suddenly, an idea sparked in Sieun's mind. He had been visiting her, trying to reach her with words, but what if words weren't the answer?
"I have an idea," Sieun said, a hint of desperation in his voice. "Maybe you could visit her. She’s not listening to me, maybe because I’m a part of all this... this world that broke her. But you're different. You’re from before all of this. You're a clean slate."
Suho looked at him, his brow furrowed in thought. "You think that will make a difference?"
"I don't know," Sieun admitted, his hope fragile. "But she needs help. We can’t just let her stay like this. You’re the only one who can talk to her without all the baggage. Please, Suho. It's the only thing I can think of."
Suho closed his eyes, considering. The story of this broken girl resonated with a deep, personal empathy. He knew what it was like to be trapped, to feel like a prisoner in his own body. He had spent years in a silent, dreamless state, and now, finally awake, he felt a strange kinship with this girl.
"Okay," Suho finally said, opening his eyes. "Let's do it.”
The hospital grounds were more of a park than a garden, a vast expanse of manicured lawn bisected by winding asphalt paths. Sieun navigated Suho's wheelchair with an easy familiarity, the rhythmic squeak of the wheels a steady counterpoint to their silence. Suho, still thin and pale, watched the world go by with an intensity that belied his physical weakness.
Everything was new to him, every tree and every blade of grass a detail he had missed. It was a strange, silent reunion, a fresh start in a place of confinement.
"We're here," Sieun said, stopping in front of a small, discreet building nestled among the trees. The windows were different here—a little too high, a little too thick.
He left Suho for a moment, disappearing inside to talk to the nurses. He’d made this walk countless times, but today was different. Today, he wasn’t just here to talk; he was here to retrieve her, to introduce a new variable into a seemingly unsolvable equation.
He waited patiently as the nurses, their faces etched with a familiar mixture of pity and resignation, went to get her. They had tried everything, every therapy and every conversation, and she remained a ghost in her own body. They’d given up on her, and he could see it in their weary eyes.
When they returned, she was in a wheelchair, too. Her posture was the same as it had been on the hospital bed—shoulders hunched, head slightly bowed. She was present, but not here. She looked like a doll, perfectly still and unresponsive.
The nurses wheeled her out, her chair moving in a slow, unnatural rhythm, as if it were a different kind of machine from the one that had beeped beside her bed.
Sieun took her wheelchair and positioned it beside Suho’s. For a moment, the only sounds were the soft hum of the breeze and the gentle creak of the chairs. He looked from one to the other, the stark contrast between them a painful sight. Suho, with his sharp, observant eyes, and Y/n, with hers vacant and distant.
"This is Suho," Sieun said, his voice soft. "He's the guy I was telling you about. He just woke up." He paused, looking at Suho. "And this is Y/n."
Suho’s gaze was kind but direct. He looked at her not with pity, but with a quiet understanding. "Hey, Y/n," he said, his voice a little hoarse, but warm. "It's good to meet you. Sieun told me a lot about you. He said you're a good person."
Suho nodded slowly, his mind piecing together the fragments Sieun was offering. "What happened to Seongje, by the way ?”
The question hung in the air, heavier than the silence that followed. Sieun’s expression soured. "He just… disappeared. One day he was there, and the next he was gone. No one’s seen him. Not the Union, not his friends. He just vanished, like a bad dream."
Suho looked over at Y/n, a new kind of intensity in his eyes. He knew what it was like to be torn apart, to have a part of yourself taken from you. Seongje’s disappearance didn’t feel like a relief; it felt like a coward's escape. He had broken someone and then just walked away from the pieces, leaving others to deal with the aftermath.
"That’s how they are," Suho said to Sieun, his voice low and sharp. "They do their damage, and then they leave. They don't stick around to see what they've done."
He reached out and gently took one of Y/n’s still, cold hands. Her skin felt like marble. "We’re not going to do that, Y/n. We’re going to stay. We're going to be here."
Sieun watched, his heart a raw, open wound. He had been visiting her for weeks, but in a single moment, Suho had found a way to connect, to speak a language she might be able to understand. They were both prisoners—one by his body, the other by her mind—and in that shared experience, there was a fragile promise of hope.
"He's a menace, really," Suho continued, his tone shifting to a more conversational one, as if he were talking to a fully present person. "You have no idea how much trouble he gets into. You should’ve seen him when we were at Byeoksan. The way he took out those guys with just a few books and a pen. It was unreal. He’s a total genius, you know? He just uses it for fighting instead of studying sometimes."
He looked at Sieun with a wry smile, and Sieun, to his own surprise, found himself smiling back. They weren't just talking to Y/n. They were talking to each other, a broken circle of friends that was slowly, painstakingly, beginning to mend.
Days bled into a routine of silent visits and hushed conversations in the hospital garden. Suho’s wheelchair became a fixture beside Y/n’s, a quiet, unmoving testament to Sieun’s fragile hope. They talked about anything and everything: the school, the fights, the small victories.
Suho, with his sharp observations and dry wit, and Sieun, with his calm, steady presence, formed a small, protective bubble around her. Y/n remained a silent spectator, her eyes vacant, her hands still.
One sunny afternoon, Sieun decided to change the script. He walked into the psychiatric ward with a different energy. It was time to bring in the rest of the crew. When he got back to the hospital garden, they were all there, a mismatched group of boys looking awkward and out of place among the meticulously maintained flowerbeds.
Humin stood with his hands in his pockets, his usual restless energy contained. Juntae, ever the loyal friend, stood beside him, looking more serious than usual. And Hyuntak… he looked at Suho with a mixture of respect and a kind of mischievous anticipation.
Suho’s face broke into a rare smile when he saw them. It was a genuine, unguarded expression that made him look years younger. "Look who finally decided to show up," he said to Sieun, his voice full of warmth.
The introductions were a little stiff at first. Suho, used to being the leader, took charge, his sharp mind already assessing each of them. He had heard about them from Sieun, but now he was seeing them for himself. "So, this is the infamous Humin," he said, holding out a hand. "Sieun said you're a brawler."
Humin grunted a response, a flicker of his usual cockiness returning. "You're the legend Sieun won't shut up about."
Juntae, more reserved, simply nodded in greeting. "It's an honor, Suho. We've been wanting to meet you."
Hyuntak, however, was quiet at first, just sizing Suho up. When Humin started talking, Hyuntak’s smirk grew. He would often tease Humin and Suho, pointing out the ridiculousness of their obsession with fighting.
Sieun wheeled Y/n’s chair closer, positioning her so she was a part of the circle, not just an observer. "And this is Y/n," he said, his voice soft. "She's... one of us now."
The boys looked at her, their usual brashness replaced by a somber quiet. She was a physical reminder of the darkness they had all faced, the kind of psychological warfare they had all been subjected to. They saw her and they saw a part of themselves, a silent testament to the cruelty they had once been a part of.
Humin, surprisingly, was the first to break the silence. He started talking about a recent fight, recounting it with his characteristic bravado, exaggerating every punch and every maneuver.
He and Suho, despite their differences, fell into a comfortable rhythm, their shared love for strategy and combat evident in their conversation. Suho, with his sharp, analytical mind, would interject with a clever observation, and Humin would respond with a boisterous laugh.
"This one guy, he thought he was a big shot just 'cause he was bigger than me," Humin said, gesturing wildly. "So I just went for his leg, you know? Knocked him right off balance. Didn't even have to throw a punch."
Suho smirked. "Amateurs always go for the head. It's too predictable."
They went back and forth like that, two different kinds of fighters finding common ground. Juntae and Hyuntak, initially quiet, started to get comfortable too. Juntae started talking about his plans for the future, about a new path he was considering. Hyuntak, ever the follower, chimed in with a few comments, his anxiety slowly giving way to a more relaxed posture.
The group dynamic, so broken for so long, began to mend, creating a safe space in the sterile environment of the hospital garden. They were a motley crew of misfits, but in that moment, they were a family. They laughed, they argued, and they talked about their hopes and fears, all while a silent figure sat in the center of their circle.
And then, it happened. It was so small, so subtle, that Sieun almost missed it. Humin was making a particularly ridiculous face while recounting a story, and Suho was laughing, a sound that was still a little rusty but full of genuine mirth. For a brief, fleeting moment, Y/n's head tilted.
Then, her eyes, which had been so dull and vacant for so long, shifted. A single, almost imperceptible sparkle—a tiny glimmer of light—danced in their depths before fading away. It was gone in an instant, but it was there. It was enough.
For weeks, the routine held. The hospital garden became their unofficial meeting place, a sanctuary where the outside world and its cruel realities faded. Days blurred into a month, then two, marked by the slow but steady progress of Suho's recovery. The wheelchair, once a symbol of his confinement, was now a thing of the past. He could walk on his own, still a little unsteady, but strong enough.
This newfound freedom sparked an idea in him. The group visits were good, but he felt a growing need to see her alone. He had grown fond of Y/n's silent company, of the quiet understanding that had blossomed between them. It was a connection born from a shared experience of being trapped, a bond forged in the crucible of their respective traumas.
One afternoon, he walked to the psychiatric ward alone. The sterile halls felt different without Sieun and the others. This was a place of quiet suffering, and for the first time, he felt the full weight of it. When he entered her room, the silence was absolute. She was sitting in her wheelchair, staring at the wall, her hands resting limply in her lap.
He didn't bother with small talk. He just pulled up a chair and sat beside her, his presence a steady, solid anchor in the emptiness of the room. He watched her, and for the first time, he noticed the small details. The way her eyelashes cast tiny shadows on her cheeks, the faint scar on her hand that he hadn't seen before. He wondered how much of her had been lost, and how much was still there, hiding beneath the surface.
He began to talk, not about school or fights, but about himself. He talked about his years in a coma, the strange, silent world he had been trapped in. He spoke of the frustration, the feeling of screaming without a voice, of being a prisoner in his own mind. He felt a deep, profound empathy for her, a kinship that transcended words.
"It's like being in a box, isn't it?" he said, his voice a low, gentle rumble. "You can see the outside, but you can't touch it. You can hear them, but they can't hear you. It's the loneliest thing in the world."
He reached out and gently took her hand. It was still cold, but he held it anyway, his thumb stroking her knuckles in a soft, rhythmic motion. "But I got out," he whispered, more to himself than to her. "And you will, too. I'll be here until you do."
For the first time since he'd started visiting her alone, he felt a flicker of hope. He had felt it before, that brief sparkle in her eyes when the others were there, but now, the feeling was different. It was a quiet certainty, a promise that he would not break. He would wait for her, and he would not let her fall.
The solo visits became a new ritual, a quiet counterpoint to the boisterous group sessions. Suho would arrive alone, no longer a prisoner of his wheelchair but a steadfast presence in her silent world. He would talk about his day, about the mundane realities of his new life, and sometimes, he would just sit in silence, a hand gently on her arm. He wasn't waiting for a grand gesture, just a sign—any sign—that she was still in there.
His patience was rewarded with small, almost imperceptible shifts. The first was a simple head tilt, a gesture that began when he was recounting a particularly funny story about Sieun and Humin getting into a ridiculous argument over a lost wallet. It was a slight, almost bird-like movement, but it was enough to make Suho's heart seize in his chest.
He stopped mid-sentence, his eyes fixed on her. She returned to her motionless state just as quickly, but the moment had been a monumental victory.
From then on, he found himself watching her more closely than ever. He noticed that she would follow his movements with her eyes, a subtle shifting of her gaze from his face to his hands as he gestured.
She wasn’t just staring into space anymore; she was observing. The world wasn't a blur to her; it was a series of small, intriguing details.
One day, he walked over to her bed and began to talk about a song he'd been listening to, a melancholy melody he had loved even before he fell into his coma. He hummed the tune, a low, melodic sound that filled the sterile room. As he did, he saw it.
Her eyes, those vacant, dull eyes he had come to know so well, looked at him directly. They held a fleeting moment of recognition, a soft, almost painful flicker of light.
Then, as he continued to hum, she shifted. Her fingers, which had been curled into her palms for weeks, slowly uncurled. She didn't move them, but the simple act of their straightening was a testament to her conscious mind.
He kept humming, his voice unwavering, and he reached out, gently taking her hand and placing it in his own. Her touch was still cold, but now it felt different. It was the hand of a person, not a statue.
Suho didn't know what it meant, but he knew this: he was reaching her. He was pulling her back, one small, impossible moment at a time. The world was beginning to fill with color again, and he was the one holding the brush.
The change, when it came, was so subtle that anyone else might have missed it. But Sieun and the others had become accustomed to reading the silent language of the hospital room, a dialect of small gestures and subtle shifts.
It was a quiet afternoon, and the whole group was gathered in the garden. Suho sat on the bench beside Y/n's wheelchair, talking about an old comic book he used to read. The others were in a loose circle around them, their conversation a low murmur. Hyuntak was teasing Humin about a bad haircut, and Juntae was listening with a rare smile on his face.
As Suho spoke, his voice low and steady, Y/n's eyes, once vacant, now followed his every movement. When he paused to flip a page in the comic book, her gaze went from his face to his hands, tracking the motion. It was a fluid, natural movement, so unlike her former stillness.
Sieun saw it first. He was mid-sentence, talking to Humin, when his eyes snagged on Y/n's gaze. He stopped talking, his expression one of shocked, quiet awe. Humin, catching his friend's stunned silence, followed his gaze. He watched as Y/n's head, which had been perfectly still, tilted slightly, as if she were contemplating something Suho had said.
Hyuntak and Juntae noticed the shift in the atmosphere. The easy banter died down, replaced by a tense, focused silence. They watched Y/n, their eyes wide with a mixture of fear and hope.
Suho, oblivious to the scrutiny, kept talking. He reached out and gently took her hand, just as he did during his solo visits. This time, however, Y/n's fingers didn't just uncurl—they twitched. It was a tiny, involuntary spasm, a small sign of life. Then, as Suho continued to speak, she slowly, painfully, tightened her grip on his hand. It wasn't a firm grip, just a slight pressure, but to everyone in the group, it felt like an earthquake.
Humin let out a shaky breath, his usual cockiness completely gone. Juntae's eyes welled up with tears. Hyuntak, for once, was speechless. They had watched her crumble, and they had come to accept the possibility that she might never return. But now, here she was, her grip a silent testament to her presence, a faint light in the darkness.
Suho looked down at their joined hands, a small, triumphant smile on his face. He looked up and met Sieun’s gaze. It was a look that said, "I told you so."
And in that moment, in the quiet of the hospital garden, they all understood. Their collective guilt, their silent regret, had been transformed into something else: a fragile, powerful hope. They weren't just a group of boys anymore. They were a lifeline, and they had just felt a tug from the other side.
The group visits continued to be a mix of low-key banter and silent observation. Sieun and the others watched with bated breath, their eyes constantly on Y/n, looking for the next sign of life. They saw the head tilts and the way her eyes followed their movements, but the progress seemed to stall. What they didn't know was that the real breakthroughs were happening in the quiet intimacy of Suho's solo visits.
When he was alone with her, Suho felt a new kind of freedom. He could talk about things he couldn't with the others, about his own nightmares and the quiet terror of waking up to a world that had moved on without him. He shared his deepest fears with her, knowing that she was the one person who would understand the feeling of being trapped in a silent, solitary existence.
One afternoon, he brought her a small sketchbook and a set of colored pencils. He sat down beside her, his chair close enough that their knees brushed. He opened the sketchbook to a blank page. "I'm not much of an artist," he said, "but my grandma and I used to love drawing with me. She'd draw a line, and I'd draw the next one. Maybe we can try that."
He took a red pencil and drew a simple, crooked line on the page. He then placed the pencil in her still hand, his own hand guiding hers. He waited. For a long moment, nothing happened. He was about to take the pencil away when he felt a small, almost imperceptible pressure from her hand. Slowly, painstakingly, she drew a single, shaky blue line that connected to his. It was a small, childlike scribble, but it was there. She had responded. She had drawn a line to meet his.
He didn't make a sound. He just looked at the paper, his heart hammering against his ribs. The silence in the room was now different. It was no longer empty, but filled with a new, quiet life. He knew this was the first step, a fragile bridge built between her mind and the world she had left behind. He continued the game, drawing lines and letting her connect them, a silent conversation in color.
The next time the group visited, they saw her holding the sketchbook, her fingers curled around the pencils. They exchanged stunned glances, a mixture of awe and confusion on their faces. They couldn't understand how she had gotten to this point.
How did this happen? But Suho just smiled. He knew. It had happened in the silence, in the small, beautiful moments when she was finally able to connect with someone who truly understood.
The sketchbook became a symbol of their fragile hope. When the group visited and saw Y/n holding it, her fingers curled around the pencils, a stunned silence fell over them. Juntae’s mouth fell open. Humin’s usual bravado vanished, replaced by a quiet awe. Even Hyuntak, ever the stoic observer, looked at Suho with a mixture of disbelief and grudging respect.
When Y/n was back in her room and the boys were gathered in Suho's chamber, the questions came pouring out. Sieun was the first to speak.
"What did you do?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper. "How did you do that?"
Suho was lying on his hospital bed, propped up by pillows. He looked at them, a small, knowing smile on his face. "I just gave her a pencil," he said simply. "She did the rest."
Humin scoffed, but there was no real malice in his tone. "Yeah, right. She just picked it up and started drawing? It's been months, man. The nurses said she was a lost cause."
"They've tried everything," Juntae added, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Therapy, medication... nothing worked."
Suho sat up, leaning forward slightly. He spoke to them not as a patient, but as a leader, the calm authority he'd always possessed beginning to re-emerge. "They treated her like a patient. I just treated her like a person." He looked at each of them, his gaze sharp and direct. "She wasn't gone. She was just hiding. I gave her a way to come back out."
They fell silent, absorbing his words. The unspoken guilt that had hung over them for months began to lift, replaced by a new, collective purpose. They realized that their visits, their seemingly pointless conversations, had been a part of it too. They had been building a world for her to return to, and Suho had simply found the first key.
Meanwhile, in the psychiatric ward, the nurses were buzzing. They had seen Y/n for weeks, a silent statue in her wheelchair, a ghost in the hospital halls. They had lost hope, resigned to her catatonic state.
But now, she was holding a sketchbook. A small, shaky drawing of a flower was on the page. They looked at each other, their faces a mix of wonder and disbelief.
"She hasn't done anything like this since she came here," one nurse whispered, her eyes wide. "Not a single gesture, not a sound."
They didn't understand it. They couldn't explain it with their medical knowledge or their years of experience. All they knew was that the boy in the other building, the one who had just woken up from a coma, had done what they couldn't. He had reached through the silence and found a way to her.
The next time they all gathered in the hospital garden, the atmosphere was different. The forced cheerfulness was gone, replaced by a deep-seated hope.
They all brought something for her. Humin, surprisingly, had a small, worn soccer ball. Juntae brought a collection of his favorite manga. Hyuntak, in his own way, had brought a bag of chips.
Suho wheeled her chair into their circle, and as he settled into his spot on the bench, he placed the sketchbook on her lap. She didn't draw, but her fingers occasionally brushed the cover, a small, subtle acknowledgment.
The boys talked, their voices a little softer, their movements a little less frantic. They knew now that she was listening, and they spoke with a new kind of purpose, weaving a tapestry of their lives for her to return to.
Suho, who had taken to observing the nurses' shifts and routines, noticed that they, too, had changed. The weary resignation on their faces was gone. They would pass by her room and give her a small, hopeful smile.
They would bring her a glass of water and wait a little longer to see if she would take it. They had been given a new reason to believe, and they treated her not as a lost cause, but as a person on the cusp of a breakthrough.
One afternoon, Suho was alone with her in her room. He was talking about his grandma, the one who had been so devastated by his accident. He spoke of the small details, the way her grandma would hum a specific tune when she was happy, and the way she would chew on his lip when she was nervous.
As he spoke, he felt a small pressure on his hand. He looked down and saw that Y/n had taken his hand and was holding it, her grip surprisingly firm.
He continued to talk, and for the first time, she turned her head and looked at him directly. Her eyes were still clouded with a heavy sorrow, but they weren't vacant. They held a raw, painful light, and for the first time, Suho knew she was truly there.
He squeezed her hand gently, his thumb tracing the faint scar on her knuckle. "It's okay," he said, his voice a low, reassuring murmur. "You're safe. We're here."
A single tear, a tiny drop of pure emotion, rolled down her cheek. It was a silent testament to the pain she had endured and the hope she was finally allowing herself to feel. The dam was breaking, one tear at a time. It was a long way from a smile, or a word, but it was a beginning. A slow, painful, and beautiful return.
The tear was a turning point. It was a wordless confession of pain, a release of the agony she had held inside for so long. Suho didn't push her. He just sat with her, his presence a silent shield against the world that had broken her.
The next day, he brought a small, worn music player and a pair of headphones. He placed them on her lap and pressed play. It was a familiar melody, a quiet, soothing tune he had loved for years.
The next few days were a blur of small miracles. Her head would tilt in the direction of the music. Her hands would fidget with the worn edges of the sketchbook. She would even meet the gaze of the nurses, a small, tentative flicker of recognition in her eyes.
The nurses began to talk to her in a softer, gentler tone. The air in the ward, which had been heavy with despair, was now filled with a fragile, burgeoning hope.
Then, one afternoon, when the group was visiting, it happened. They were all talking, their voices a familiar, comforting chorus. Humin was bragging about a fight he'd won, exaggerating his prowess to a ridiculous degree. Hyuntak was, of course, giving him a hard time about it, and Suho was just listening, a slight smirk on his face.
"So I was like," Humin said, puffing out his chest, "I was like, 'You wanna go? Let's go!'"
Hyuntak rolled his eyes. "You probably just tripped and fell on him, Humin."
A laugh, a sharp, surprised sound, erupted from the group. It was a sound they hadn't heard in what felt like a lifetime. They all looked at Y/n, stunned into silence. Her face was still, but her shoulders were shaking with silent laughter. A single, choked-off giggle escaped her lips, a tiny, almost inaudible sound.
Then, from her, came a whisper. A single, breathy word that was both a question and a statement.
"S-Suho...?"
It was the first word she had spoken in months. It was a sound that broke the stillness, a fragile, beautiful note in a symphony of silence. Suho's eyes widened. He had expected her to talk, but he hadn't expected to be the first one she called out to. He looked at her, and for the first time, he saw not a patient, not a broken girl, but a person, a friend who had found her way back.
"I'm here," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm right here."
And in that moment, in the quiet of the hospital garden, they all knew. The ghost was gone. She was finally, truly, back.
The first word was a dam breaking. After that, the progress was slow, but constant. Y/n began to speak in hushed, hesitant whispers, her voice a little rusty from disuse. She’d ask simple questions, her gaze still a bit clouded, but her curiosity was returning.
She'd ask about a song on the radio, or a character in a book, and each question felt like a small, triumphant victory. The boys, overjoyed, would answer her with a patience they never knew they had. They’d explain the plot of a manga, or the rules of a game, their voices gentle and reassuring.
Her physical recovery was just as slow, and just as miraculous. It started with her hands. She began to use the colored pencils with a purpose, her lines no longer shaky and tentative, but firm and deliberate.
She drew pictures of things she had lost—a tree with brilliant green leaves, a dog with a happy, wagging tail. The nurses would watch, their faces a mix of professional astonishment and personal wonder. They had documented every small change, every flicker of life.
One afternoon, during a solo visit with Suho, she tried to stand. Her legs, which had been dormant for months, trembled beneath her. Suho didn't try to help her. He just knelt in front of her, his hands hovering, ready to catch her if she fell. He looked at her not with pity, but with a quiet challenge in his eyes.
He had been through the same process, the painful, frustrating journey of rebuilding a body from scratch. He knew that she had to do it on her own.
"You can do it," he said, his voice a low, steady murmur. "I know you can."
She took a shaky step, then another. The world swayed around her. She was scared, but she didn’t stop. She took a step, and then another, until she was standing, a little unsteady, but on her own.
Suho reached out and took her hands, his touch grounding her. She looked at him, and for the first time, a small, genuine smile touched her lips. She had taken herself in her hands again.
Meanwhile, the group had a new kind of conversation. They talked about Y/n, but also about the boy who had put her there. The subject of Seongje came up one day when they were talking about the school union. Humin was bragging about how they had all but disbanded since Seongje's disappearance.
"It's like they lost their leader, their king," Humin said, a proud smirk on his face.
Suho’s face hardened. He had never liked the idea of a king, a person who ruled through fear and intimidation. He looked at Sieun, then at the others, his gaze sharp and direct.
"He wasn't a king," Suho said, his voice cold. "He was just a bully. A coward."
The silence was thick with the weight of his words. They all knew what he was talking about. Seongje had been a force of nature, a terrifying kind of power. But what kind of power breaks a person and then disappears? He had run away from the consequences of his actions. He was a ghost, a bad memory that had vanished.
"He's a piece of work," Humin said, a somber note in his voice. "We haven't seen him since. It's like he just fell off the face of the earth."
They all knew he was gone, but his absence was a constant presence, a reminder of the darkness they had escaped and the fragile light they were trying to build. He had broken Y/n, but in doing so, he had created an unbreakable bond between a group of misfits who had found a new kind of family.
The next time the group gathered in the hospital garden, they were a little early, sitting on a bench and talking amongst themselves. They were waiting for Sieun, who was bringing Y/n down from her room.
The usual low hum of their conversation was replaced by a more tense silence. They were all on edge, a collective bundle of nerves, waiting to see what new sign of progress she would show.
Then, they saw them. At the top of the path, where the double doors of the psychiatric ward opened, Suho emerged. But he wasn't alone. He was walking, his gait steady and confident, and beside him was Y/n.
She was on her own two feet, her shoulders no longer hunched, but straight. She walked with a slow, deliberate pace, but she was walking. She wasn't holding his hand, but she was close enough that their arms brushed.
Juntae's mouth dropped open. Humin, ever the dramatic one, let out a low whistle. Hyuntak just stared, his eyes wide with a mixture of shock and admiration. They all looked at Sieun, their faces a mix of confusion and awe. Sieun just smiled, a quiet, knowing expression on his face.
The sight of them walking side-by-side, two people who had been broken by the world and were now mending each other, was a powerful one. They walked toward the group, and as they got closer, the boys saw something in Suho's eyes.
It was a fierce, protective light, a look that said he would do anything to keep her safe. His whole demeanor had changed. He wasn't just a friend anymore; he was a guardian.
When they reached the bench, Y/n didn't sit down. She just stood there, her hands clasped in front of her, and looked at each of them. A small, shy smile touched her lips.
"Hi," she whispered, her voice still soft, but clear.
They all scrambled to their feet, their usual boisterous energy replaced by an awkward silence. They didn't know what to say. Y/n had always been a ghost to them, a silent figure in a wheelchair. Now, she was standing, talking, and looking at them. She was a person, with a past full of pain, but a future full of possibility.
Sieun watched his friends, his heart swelling with a quiet, powerful sense of accomplishment. He saw the way Humin looked at her, no longer with pity, but with a new kind of respect. He saw the way Juntae’s shoulders relaxed, the guilt he had carried for so long finally beginning to lift. And he saw the way Hyuntak, ever the stoic, gave a small, genuine nod of approval.
His plan had worked. His idea, so fragile and so desperate, had not just saved a life, but had also changed the lives of his friends. He had brought them all together, a group of misfits who had found a new kind of family, a new kind of purpose. They had all been broken in their own ways, but they had come together to help her mend. And in doing so, they had begun to heal themselves.
The nurses stood in a small group near the hospital entrance, their usual professional calm replaced by hushed whispers and astonished gazes. They had seen countless patients come and go, had witnessed every type of psychological trauma, but this… this was unprecedented.
They had given up on Y/n, labeling her condition as a severe catatonic state with no hope for recovery. Now, she was not only walking but smiling, a shy, almost painful ghost of the girl she once was.
They saw Suho at her side, his presence a steady anchor. He wasn't just a friend; he was a lifeline. They remembered him, the quiet, formidable young man who had spent years in a silent coma. And they saw the way he looked at her—not with pity, but with a fierce protectiveness that spoke volumes. He had done what years of therapy and medication could not. He had simply given her a reason to return.
Sieun watched Suho and Y/n, his heart filled with a mixture of pride and a quiet understanding. He had seen the subtle shifts in Suho’s demeanor, the way his gaze softened when he spoke of her, the way he seemed to carry a new kind of purpose.
He knew, long before the others did, that Suho had found a kindred spirit in her. Suho had been a prisoner in his own mind, and Y/n a prisoner in hers. They had a shared history of isolation and silent suffering, a bond forged in the crucible of their respective traumas.
Sieun had brought them together, hoping to give her a chance, but he never could have anticipated the profound connection that would form. He saw the way Suho looked at her, and in his eyes, he saw not just hope, but a deep, unspoken affection. He saw his friend, so long a solitary figure, finally finding a place for his heart to land.
The contrast was stark, a painful testament to the boy she had left behind and the boys who had brought her back. They looked at her now and saw not the gaunt, hollow-eyed girl who had walked the halls beside Seongje, but a survivor.
They remembered the way she had been a mere shadow in Seongje's orbit, her shoulders hunched as she retreated further and further into herself. She was a title, "Seongje's girl," and it was a title that had been a slow, methodical erasure of her very self. She had been an object, something to be possessed and then discarded.
The cruel pranks, the passive indifference of her so-called boyfriend, had worn her down until she was a ghost, a shell of the person she once was.
But now, she stood before them, a living, breathing testament to her own resilience. She was no longer a ghost but a person. She wasn't just "Suho's girl" or "Sieun's friend"; she was Y/n. The light in her eyes, so long extinguished, was back. It was a fragile light, but it was there, and it was hers alone.
The hospital garden was a place of quiet solitude, the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze the only sound between them. Suho and the others had left for the day, leaving Sieun and Y/n alone. It was a comfortable silence, a truce between two people who had a profound, unspoken understanding.
Sieun was happy to just be there, watching the sunlight filter through the leaves, a feeling of quiet contentment settling in his chest. He had taken a chance on her, on an idea that seemed impossible to everyone else, and the results were a testament to his own strength and compassion.
He felt no need to speak, content with the easy stillness. He had seen the way his friends had changed, the way their apathetic silence had been replaced by a fierce protectiveness. He saw the new light in their eyes, a glimmer of purpose that had been missing for so long. He knew, with a deep certainty, that he had done the right thing.
Then, she broke the silence. Her voice was soft, a little rusty from disuse, but clear.
"Sieun," she said, her voice a gentle murmur. "Thank you. For everything."
He turned to look at her, a little surprised. She wasn't looking at him, but at the sky, a peaceful, far-off look in her eyes. It was a simple statement, but it carried the weight of everything they had been through. It was a thank you for his compassion, for his unwavering belief, for his quiet refusal to let her disappear.
He didn't know what to say. He didn't feel like a hero, just a boy who had reached out his hand to another person who was drowning. He looked at her, at the small, genuine smile on her face, and felt a rush of emotion so powerful it took his breath away.
"You're welcome," he finally managed to say, his voice a little hoarse. "I'd do it again in a heartbeat."
The silence returned, but it was different now. It was a silence filled with gratitude and understanding, a peaceful moment between two people who had found each other in the wreckage of their past.
Suho would sit beside her on the bench in the hospital garden, the warmth of the sun on his face, and a quiet sense of ownership in his heart. The others would be there too, their laughter and conversations a comforting backdrop, but in his mind, he was alone with her. He'd watch her, her movements now fluid, her face expressive, and remember.
He was the one who had seen the first head tilt, a small, hopeful gesture that no one else had caught. He had been the only one to witness the first, shaky line she had drawn in the sketchbook, a quiet, almost secret conversation between them. He had been the one to feel the pressure of her hand, her first, tentative grip a silent promise of her return.
And he was the one who had heard her first word. It had been his name. A simple, two-syllable word, but it had held the weight of a thousand silent prayers. He would replay it in his mind, the memory of her whispered voice a constant reminder of the profound bond they shared.
He had been the one to experience her journey of recovery in a way no one else could. He had been a ghost in his own life for years, and he had found her, a lost soul, and together, they had found their way back. He had not just been a friend; he had been a mirror. In her, he saw his own suffering, his own isolation, and in her recovery, he saw his own.
She was not just a person he had helped; she was a testament to his own resilience, a living, breathing symbol of his own triumph over his past. He would remember, always, that he was the one to experience her first steps, her first words, her first moments of genuine life. He had been her first connection back to the world, and in doing so, he had found his own way back, too.
The hospital garden, once a place of quiet desperation, had become a sanctuary. The passage of a year had softened the sharp edges of their memories, replacing them with a gentle rhythm of shared lives. Y/n was no longer a ghost but a person.
She could now walk, her stride a little unsteady at first, but with a growing confidence that matched her inner strength. She no longer had to use the wheelchair. Her physical recovery mirrored her mental one, a slow, painstaking process of rebuilding a life from the ground up.
Her days were filled with quiet purpose. She would spend her mornings in the garden, a book in her hands, her mind finally free to wander. The simple act of reading, a luxury she had lost for so long, was a quiet joy.
Her afternoons were spent with Suho, just the two of them. They didn't need words. They had a language of their own, a quiet understanding forged in the crucible of their shared trauma. They would sit on a bench, side by side, his presence a steady anchor in her life.
The group visits were a different kind of joy. When the boys came, the garden would fill with their laughter and their endless banter. Y/n was no longer a silent spectator; she was a participant. Her quick wit and dry humor were a new, delightful addition to their conversations.
She was a puzzle piece that had been lost for a long time, and now, she was finally fitting back into the picture.
As for Seongje, the name was now nothing more than a ghost, a bad memory that faded a little more each day. No one had seen him. The Union had disbanded, their power base crumbling in his absence.
He had simply disappeared, a silent vanishing act that was a final testament to his cowardice. He had broken a person and then run away from the pieces, leaving others to clean up his mess. He was gone, but the love and loyalty that had formed in the wake of his cruelty was a far more powerful legacy than he could have ever imagined.
The easy rhythm of their lives had settled into a comfortable routine. One afternoon, they decided to change their usual meeting place from the hospital garden to a park near Suho's apartment. The air was filled with the sounds of children laughing and the distant thud of a soccer ball.
Humin and Hyuntak, in a rare moment of cooperation, were trying to teach Y/n how to play street soccer. Suho and Sieun sat on a park bench, watching them. Y/n, in a pair of comfortable sweatpants, was a little clumsy at first, her movements a bit hesitant. But she was laughing, a sound that made a quiet, triumphant kind of music in Sieun's ears.
Humin, in a rare moment of gentleness, was showing her how to trap the ball with the inside of her foot. "You gotta be one with the ball," he said, his voice a little too serious.
"Oh, like a soul connection?" Hyuntak said, a teasing smirk on his face.
Y/n just shook her head, a playful smile on her lips. She tried again, and this time, the ball rolled neatly to her foot. She looked up, her eyes wide with surprise, and a triumphant grin spread across her face.
Sieun watched them from the bench, a feeling of quiet contentment settling in his chest. He looked at Suho, who was watching Y/n with an intensity that made his feelings for her obvious. He saw the fierce protectiveness in his eyes, the way his shoulders relaxed every time she laughed. It was a look of pure adoration.
"She's doing great," Sieun said, a soft smile on his face.
Suho nodded, his gaze never leaving her. "She's amazing."
Their conversation was simple, but it was filled with an unspoken depth. They were both witnesses to a miracle, and they both knew it. Y/n's recovery wasn't just a physical one; it was a testament to her spirit, and to the fact that they had all, finally, found a home in each other.
Suho, who had spent the last year watching her bloom, felt a swell of emotion in his chest. He remembered that first day in the hospital garden, the sterile silence, and her vacant eyes. He had only spoken a few words to her then, a simple, "Hey, Y/n," but even in that brief moment, he had felt a strange connection. He saw not a patient, but a person, someone trapped in a silence he knew all too well.
Now, a year later, she was so different. She was vibrant, full of life, and his heart ached with a quiet kind of love. He looked at her, his gaze filled with an unspoken tenderness.
"You know," he said, his voice a low, gentle murmur, "I remember the first time I met you. Sieun wheeled you out to the garden. You were just... still. I told you it was good to meet you, but you didn't even look at me."
Y/n's gaze softened. She had no memory of that day, only the stories the boys had told her. She knew that he had been the first one to truly see her, to look past her catatonic state and see the person inside.
"I didn't know what to do," Suho continued, his voice thick with emotion. "I just... I felt like I had to do something. You were in a box, and I knew what that was like."
Y/n's hand found his, her fingers intertwining with his. She didn't say a word, but her touch was a silent language, a profound thank you for his presence, for his unwavering belief. He had seen her in her darkest moment, and he had been the one to guide her back to the light. It was a silent promise of a future together, a future built on a foundation of shared understanding and quiet love.
The sun was dipping below the horizon, painting the sky in fiery shades of orange and pink. Suho and Y/n were still on the park bench, the low hum of the city a distant sound. The easy silence between them, once a source of comfort, now felt charged with an unspoken energy. He had been so close to confessing before, and the words now felt heavy on his tongue, a truth he could no longer keep to himself.
He turned to face her, taking her hands in his. Her gaze was soft and open, a silent invitation to speak. He took a deep breath, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs.
"Y/n," he began, his voice a little shaky, "I... I remember that first day in the garden. I told you it was good to meet you, and you didn't even look at me. And I was scared. I was scared that you were trapped in a place I knew all too well, and I didn't know how to get you out."
He squeezed her hands gently, his gaze unwavering. "And then... then you started to come back. And I felt like I was the only one who saw it at first. The head tilts, the little lines in the sketchbook. Every single small thing, every single step you took back to the world, I felt it. And I knew... I knew I was falling in love with you."
The words hung in the air, a beautiful, vulnerable truth. He saw the surprise in her eyes, followed by a soft, profound understanding.
"I know you had a really shitty relationship," he continued, his voice dropping to a low, earnest murmur. "And I'm not him. I would never hurt you. I would never lie to you. And I would never... I would never let you be alone again. I love you, Y/n. I love you so much."
Tears welled in Y/n's eyes, a release of so much pent-up emotion. She had been through a relationship where her love had been a weapon used against her, where she had been nothing more than an object to be possessed. Her life had been filled with a cold, calculated cruelty. But with Suho, it was different. He had seen her at her lowest, had loved her when she was a ghost. He had given her back her voice, her spirit, her life.
She looked at him, her heart full of a love so powerful it took her breath away. "I love you, too, Suho," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I... I think I've loved you since the moment you came back. Since you chose to stay."
He smiled, a genuine, joyful expression that made him look years younger. He leaned in and gently kissed her, a tender, heartfelt kiss that sealed their love, a quiet promise that she would never have to be a ghost again.
How in the hell can there be so little love on this?
Seriously I just discovered this fic and from part one through part two it's been so great I can't find words—
I'm glazing you (dear author) as hell but I'm not doing it lightly because this is genuinely incredible, I've never read anything like it, from the idea itself to the writing it was just perfect in my opinion
This is also kinda inspirational, I always aspire to evolve as a writer and this, written fics I enjoy, just makes me want to push myself to be even better
This is really serious but it deserved the glaze in my opinion, you (anons) would make me so happy by going and reading this fic and supporting this author, thank you so much :) <3
WHATTTT, I was CERTAIN that I was on your tag list but apparently not 🥲 May I be added? 🫶🫶
of course omgg🙏💗 it lwk feels so unreal because you're like part of the few writers on here I see WAY out of my league so like.. you noticing me and wanting to be on my taglist? I'm tearing up🥹 ADDING YOU RIGHT AWAY MA'AM (if Tumblr lets me... it's been working against me lately)
Hello! I hope you're doing well! Do you do hurt/comfort?? If so, can you please write a sieun x Reader fic in which he finds out that reader cuts themselves? I hope this is not too much for you and that you're comfortable with it, if you're not it's totally fine!
ᴛʜᴇ ʀɪɢʜᴛ ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ
SUMMARY: Your boyfriend was never the best to express himself, but a gentle act is worth a thousand kind words.
PAIRING: Yeon Sieun.
WORD COUNT: 1.715 K.
GENRE: Angsty, small fluff by the end.
WARNINGS: Self-harm (cutting), mention of wounds.
NOTE: Hi anon! Thank you so much for your resquest, I hope you like it!!<3
TAGLIST — @whcfreak, @suhoholic, @10baku, @christinamadsen, @heartshapesandcigarettes, @vamp18e, @ashayein, @stasiamazia
Your relationship with Sieun had always been quiet and peaceful. He wasn’t one of grand gestures to charm you every other day, none of you were. To you, it had always been about being with one another—even in the deadliest silence, because silence wasn’t the same when you shared it with your boyfriend. Even if the two of you were busy, often having to study for exams, you always ended up at his or him at yours—just to sit down in silence, but in each other’s presence. He had never been the type to talk a lot anyway—even when you needed something, it was like he unlocked a sixth sense and always managed to bring whatever you wanted before you could ask for it. Whether it’d be snacks, a glass of water, or simply a small kiss on your forehead, Sieun always knew—and he always delivered.
That’s why you couldn’t exactly hope to hide your secret for long. You couldn’t bring yourself to talk about it out loud—you never could, even with your family. It was the part of you you didn't want to share with your boyfriend—the part that hurt, that scared, that might make him leave. You were too afraid to even imagine that scenario. So you always hid, even if your common sense kept telling you it was useless because Sieun always knew everything. But still, you couldn't just go to him and roll up your sleeves like your forearms weren't your outlet for every pent up emotion you ever felt. No, that secret, you were ready to take it to your grave. Your boyfriend didn’t need to know about it, and besides you were fine right? It was just a bad phase.
You were sitting cross-legged on the edge of Sieun’s bed, tongue sticking out in concentration as you tried to understand the various calculus laid out on paper before you. Your boyfriend was at his desk, per usual, studying calmly as he always did—one earphone out in case you had anything to say. But you were too focused on your own thing to even notice; frowning as you so desperately tried to focus on the task at hand—an equation that should’ve been more than easy for a diligent student like yourself. Except last night’s little activity of yours left its marks, and now you had to deal with the consequences. It was the small, annoying things part of the aftermath no one cared to mention—but which felt very real to you. Your skin burning in the shower this morning, or itching like crazy now thanks to your stupid sweater—which had already earned you a suspicious glance from your boyfriend giving the outside’s temperature, not that he wore short sleeves either. The irritation was so bad you couldn’t even make out the numbers on the paper, and you knew giving in to the urge would only make it hurt more or worse—risk reopening old wounds.
So you sucked it up, as you always did, and tried to calm yourself by closing your eyes and exhaling for a few seconds. Lost in your own thoughts, you didn’t even notice your boyfriend had stopped his work and turned to you instead—his sixth sense striking again. When you did realize it, you looked up to meet his calm gaze, frowning slightly.
“What?” You chuckled nervously.
He couldn’t have possibly seen anything, right? Sieun didn’t answer for long seconds, seconds that felt like hours to you, before speaking lowly.
“Are you okay?”
The question took you by surprise, and you had to reassure yourself that he knew nothing, that it was just your boyfriend's kindness speaking and nothing more.
“I'm fine.” You smiled, unable to suppress a nervous grimace. “Just tired. Can't focus.”
You smiled again and turned your gaze back to your paper, convinced you'd aced that surprise pop-quiz—before your boyfriend spoke again.
“What’s with your arms?”
You froze at that. For a second, you didn’t move at all. And when you finally did, you slowly turned to meet his gaze again—as deadpan as ever. You had to inwardly slap yourself about four times before you managed a sound.
“..uh?”
“They're tense.” Sieun simply stated, his gaze lingering on your covered forearms—which ignited in you a discomfort you didn’t think possible. “Are you hurt?”
Once again, you stayed quiet for a moment, mouth agape. Then, a laugh escaped your laugh—too loud, too forced. But it was your only defense.
“Ah, I just fell this morning.” You beamed, your heart beating so fast you could swear your boyfriend could hear it. “Tried to outrun the bus, you know.”
You grinned sheepishly, your fingers unconsciously going to fidget with the hem of your sleeve.
“Can I see?”
You couldn’t help but physically recoil at the question, your mind on high-alert as your thoughts raced to find a way out of this situation.
“I—It’s fine really—” You never let down the smile, though it was so tense it barely looked like one anymore. “I’m thirsty, I'll go grab some water—”
You hurriedly got up but couldn't make it to his door that his hand shot out to grab your wrist. Gentle, not forceful, just there. You froze at the touch, standing there back at him as you tried to regain your breath and swallow back the tears. Now was not the time for a panic attack.
Sieun called out your name—his voice still low yet softening the slightest. You closed your eyes in apprehension and slowly turned to him, praying he couldn’t see the tears in your eyes. Sieun met your gaze back, silent for a few seconds before he repeated again, slowly and barely audible.
“Can I see?”
Tears were at the verge of your eyes and you quickly looked away to rub them off, swallowing hardly before turning back to him with a chuckle despite the tears that now ran down your cheek.
“This is so stupid oh my god—” You sniffled, still chuckling between sobs.
Sieun stood quiet before that. The sight of your trembling form crying yet desperately trying to hide any pain was one he couldn’t comprehend—and hated deeply. Slowly, his grip on your wrist pulled you closer to him, his other hand grabbing yours with a feather-like touch and his gaze locked with yours.
“Don’t laugh. Just let it all out.”
Those simple words, uttered with an unwavering softness from your boyfriend, opened the floodgates. You didn't chuckle anymore, your hand trembling in his as you sobbed quietly, trying to stop the sounds by biting down on your lower lip—in vain. Sieun didn’t say anything, because he knew words wouldn’t help in that moment. Instead, he slowly got up and carefully opened his arms, offering warmth without forcing it upon you. Still crying, you slowly stepped into the hug, his arms locking gently around you as your tears soon soaked his sweatshirt—not that he cared.
The both of you stood for long minutes like that, or maybe it was hours, pressed against each other. Sieun didn’t move until your breathing started to regulate and your tears subsided. Still, even then, he didn’t immediately let go, holding you softly before he murmured in your ear.
“I’m not good with words. But if you need anything.. I’m here. Always. I love you.”
You could have just started crying all over again if you hadn’t ran out of tears already. Instead, you sniffled and softly nodded against his shoulders.
“I love you too.” You murmured, your words muffled by the fabric of his shirt.
Slowly pulling back, just enough to meet your gaze, your boyfriend watched you for a second before speaking once again.
“Can you show me?”
You swallowed and nodded quietly at that, the end of your fingertips trembling slightly as you went to roll up your sleeves. You closed your eyes, not wanting to witness the disgust on his face or his pity, but nothing happened. Carefully opening your eyes again, you met the sight of your boyfriend looking down on your arm, covered in a constellation of scars. His eyes weren't judgemental, or pitying, or showing any sign of rejection—they were soft, kind, and filled with a pain that punched you right in the stomach.
You flinched when his finger carefully came to trace one the wounds near your wrist, soft and barely there, before you slowly relaxed under him. He was still your boyfriend, he still loved you.
“You didn’t disinfect them.”
Your eyes widened slightly at his sudden words and you stood dumbfounded for a moment under your boyfriend’s gaze before you came back to your senses.
“I, uh—didn’t really.”
Sieun sighed. Not anything mean or disappointed—that same sigh he did when Suho was being insufferable on purpose. That ‘I love you but please use your brain for once’ sort of sigh. It drew a small chuckle out of you before you could stop it. Quietly, your boyfriend walked you to the bathroom, sitting you down on the edge of the bathtub as he took out everything he needed to tend to your wounds.
By the time night came, the two of you had given up your studies, instead sitting down on your boyfriend’s bed, your head resting on his shoulder and your hands interlocked on his thigh. He wasn’t always one to handle such closeness for so long, but he must have deemed the situation urgent enough. And after all, Sieun loved you.
“If you ever think of doing that again…”
His voice cut off the silence, surprising you as you turned to him slowly. He moved to meet your gaze too.
“Come to me. At noon or midnight, I wanna be there for you. Please.”
You didn’t mention it—but his eyes seemed just a tad more glassy than usual, and his tone held a desperation you didn't recognize him in. Keeping quiet for a moment, you simply nodded, holding his gaze.
“I promise.”
Your boyfriend nodded as well and his grip tightened just the slightest bit on your hand. At the end of the day, it wasn’t about finding the perfect words to make the suffering disappear and heal you—because those didn’t exist. It was about him being there, listening, and giving his all to ensure you’d never have to face that pain alone ever again.
since i’m in love with your writing style, you know i have to request 𐔌՞ ܸ.ˬ.ܸ՞𐦯
could you do ANYTHING for my hubby gotak? headcanons, scenario, fluff, angst,… it’s up to you!!
remember to take your time and that you’re so loved <3
never give up, i love you my sweetheart (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) thank you in advance for doing my request ❤️
ᴘɪɴᴋʏ ᴘʀᴏᴍɪꜱᴇ
SUMMARY: Where a boy managed to rekindle a flame you thought was extinguished forever.
PAIRING: Go Hyuntak.
WORD COUNT: 3.627 K.
GENRE: Angsty, smallest fluff ever by the end.
WARNING: Depiction of depression/mental health struggles, mention of suicidal thoughts/will to kill/blood/injuries, arguing, bullying, reader lwk being annoying but you're traumatized and depressed be kind with yourself.
NOTE: Hi angel💗 soo grateful to have a request from you it just feels so special for some reason<3 I wanted to do my best for this one, so I hope you like it!! I can never apologize enough for how long you have been waiting I'm so sorry :( I really hope it lives up to your expectations and that you like it despite the heavy themes🙏 wrote this with reader and gotak being in middle school for some reason so if you want fluffy bubbly loving gotak next (because this isn't really fun.. sorry) I can make a part2 where they're at eunjang and together :3
TAGLIST — @whcfreak, @suhoholic, @10baku, @christinamadsen, @heartshapesandcigarettes, @vamp18e, @ashayein, @stasiamazia
Your classmates’ laughter echoed like something out of your worst nightmares as you winced at the pain shooting through your body every time their feet connected with your curled-up form. Your body—battered and tortured, lying on the ground—seemed tiny beside the source of your misery; they roared with laughter as the blows rained down relentlessly. Your eyes were shut tight, and you prayed silently for the pain to stop. It wasn’t the first time you’d been beaten, but what hurt the most—and terrified you the most—was knowing it wouldn’t be the last. You had forgotten why they started attacking you, why they had singled you out—but did they really need a reason? After dealing with them for so long, you were beginning to understand the behavior of bullies: that sense of power they felt whenever they had someone to take everything out on. They didn’t care about the who, the why, or the how—as long as they could hold a poor soul in their grip and toy with their life, they would smile and sneer. All that mattered to them was being stronger, more powerful—and they proved it by lashing out at the weak. And you were weak. In their eyes—and in everyone else’s—you were weak, an easy target. You had tried—tried with all your might—to fit in with their group, to turn the tables by becoming one of them so you wouldn’t be the first one hit, as always happened. But when the moment came to raise your hand against someone—someone who was weeping, begging and pleading with you not to hurt them—you found yourself unable to do it. Your hand had remained frozen in the air, and that was when you knew. You could never be one of the strong ones—the kind of people others avoided looking in the eye, who walked into a room as if they owned the place. Because you were weak. Because you were kind.
The upside of bruises is that they never really hurt unless you deliberately touch them. They’re also much easier to hide with a little makeup than scars, which can get infected if you aren’t careful. Not that you aren’t careful—you’re far too used to your care routine to be that careless. Your gaze drifted toward your schoolbag, dusty and frayed from the times it had been manhandled right along with you. You used to be gripped by fear at the mere sight of it, but not anymore. You liked to imagine it was because you were toughening up, growing stronger—but really, you had simply grown accustomed to your situation. It was easier to endure something once you’d accepted that it would never change. No matter what you said or did, you would always be the school’s target—the outcast no one dared look in the eye, for fear that a simple glance might draw the wrath of your tormentors. Your gaze continued its sweep to the center of the room, landing on the rope hanging from the ceiling and the neat knot tied at its end. Yes, no matter what you did, nothing would change. Or almost.
The walk to school always stirred up a peculiar feeling. That distinct mix of apprehension and dread—which you forced yourself to hide behind a blank expression—and that part of you you tried to reject: the tiny flicker of hope that today, perhaps, things might be different. It never was, and you knew it the moment you reached the school gates. Whether it was their familiar laughter, a smack on the back of the head, or even that one time a bucket of water was dumped on you—your tormentors knew how to let you know, first thing in the morning, that they were still there and hadn't changed a bit. This time, it was just an insult hurled in your direction. ‘Hey shithead!’. The same mocking tone, the same twisted grin, the same sadistic glint in their eyes. You knew them so well; you could draw them down to the last strand of hair, predict their every move, read their every thought. Only one feeling was powerful enough to let you know someone so perfectly: hatred. A hatred buried deep within your gut, a hatred that promised destruction the moment it was inevitably unleashed. You had already imagined fighting back. Grabbing a knife, a sharpened piece of wood, or simply using your fists, and killing them all—every last one of them. Not just your tormentors—the other students, the teachers, the cafeteria staff, the principal. Everyone who had set foot in that school, who had inevitably witnessed the hell you were living through and chosen to look away. Even then, your rage would remain unsatisfied, so you would kill the people you met on the streets—those who claimed they could help when you stood on the edge of a roof, those who smiled too broadly for the world they lived in, and those from whom all hope seemed to have vanished. In the end, you would slaughter all of humanity—covered in blood and viscera—and you would be free. Free from others—from their judgments, their mocking laughter, the pain—but also free from yourself. Once the entire population was wiped out, you would turn the blade on yourself, smiling just before plunging it into your heart. You often imagined this scenario—usually while in class or lying in bed, when your fantasies were the only way left to feel anything at all. And each time you returned to reality—whether by the school bell or your alarm clock—you would lie motionless for a moment. Imagining the day when you wouldn’t have to wake up from that dream.
Sitting at your desk today, you noticed something unusual—something out of the ordinary, something that defied common sense. A boy was standing there by the teacher’s desk; a boy you had never seen before, yet one wearing your school uniform—and he was smiling. It was a smile so wide, so sincere, that you squinted and looked away. Such a smile had no place here—not in this school, and certainly not in this classroom. The teacher was introducing the boy, but your ears were deaf to his words, your eyes blind to the scene unfolding before you. Your senses were locked away within the safety of your own mind—the place where you took refuge whenever the outside world became too much: too loud, too dark, too violent. You never would have imagined taking refuge there to escape a sudden excess of... brightness.
“Can I sit here?”
The voice that drew you out of your sanctuary was too light, too welcoming, too cheerful. You looked up to see that same boy, a dazzling smile still playing on his lips. You lowered your gaze to avoid him, only to see his finger pointing at the empty seat beside you—clearly awaiting an answer that wasn't coming. Far from being discouraged—though a flicker of surprise did cross his eyes for a moment—the boy shrugged and sat down next to you, still smiling as he took out his notebooks. You, for your part, didn't dare move; you kept your eyes down while the back of your neck burned under the intense stare of Seon-woo from the back of the room—whose mocking smirk you could easily picture. For reasons you could all too easily imagine, your tormentor seemed to be relishing the sight of this newcomer choosing to sit next to you—a spot the other students normally avoided like the plague.
When the lunch bell rang, you wanted to vanish before Seon-Woo and his gang could show up, but they were faster, as they always had been. The boy's hand slammed against your back in a gesture that—from anyone else—might have been friendly before he crouched beside your desk, arms folded across it, chin resting on it, and a nearly innocent grin on his face were it not for the gleeful, unhealthy excitement in his eyes. His two henchmen stood nearby, one behind you and the other beside the new student sitting to your left. The rest of the classroom emptied—no one dared stay in the same room as Seon-Woo for very long. No one, that is, except the victim, who was being forced into it anyway, and the poor new kid, who had no idea what was coming.
“Hey.” The leader smiled. “Who’s our new friend here?”
He asked, his head tilting toward the newcomer who turned his head between the three boys surrounding him, looking surprised but not at all frightened.
“I’m Go Hyun-tak.” He replied, a bright smile on his lips. “And you guys are?”
Seon-woo exchanged a mischievous look with his two companions, smiling.
“Woah, we’ve got a real little sunshine here,” he declared. “My name’s Kong Seon-woo, there’s Sim Ryu-jae and Lee Jeo-san.”
Hyun-tak smiled at this, nodding as he scanned the boys from one to the other. Then, his gaze settling on your face, hidden by your hair, he asked more softly.
“What’s your name?”
You didn't answer, your body tensed imperceptibly as your three tormentors burst into laughter around you, Ryu-jae behind you placing his hands on your shoulders like an unspoken threat.
“Her? That’s our best friend right there!” Seon-woo chuckled, grinning broadly as his piercing gaze met yours. “She always entertains us, don’t you?”
You remained silent, once again, not raising your gaze to meet his. Ryu-jae and Jeo-san followed their leader as usual, snickering around you while the newcomer frowned at the scene, his expression shifting from a mocking smile to another, a hint of confusion on his face. Before either of them could speak again, you suddenly stood up despite Ryu-jae's weight still resting on your shoulders.
"I need to go to the bathroom."
You murmured, almost inaudibly, before striding off before anyone could follow. You weren't running away—you'd understood long ago that running from Seon-woo was pointless—you were hiding. Just for a moment, just a second—to breathe, to collect yourself before returning to be bullied amidst hypocritical laughter and fake friendly hugs. With your eyes closed, you let your thoughts wander for a moment. Far from here, far from this hell—or perhaps simply to a more reassuring one. You imagine yourself leaving the bathroom, running towards Seon-woo and throwing him out the window, closely followed by his two sheep. You imagine yourself screaming, screaming like you've never screamed before, screaming until you drown out the mocking laughter of your bullies, the sound etched in your eardrums.
Repeated knocks on your stall door signaled the end of your free time. Opening your eyes and exhaling one last time, you stepped out of the stall to find yourself face to face with Seon-woo and his friends, flashing you a wide smile, completely unashamed to be standing right in the middle of the girls' restroom—because no one would dare stop them from doing anything.
"Here you are, thought we lost you for a moment."
The boys chuckled as you stood silently before them, your gaze sweeping over their gleeful expressions. An arm wrapped around your neck, pressing down on your shoulders as the trio led you out of the bathroom, their mocking laughter echoing off the walls and deep inside you. Just like they always had. Just like they always would. Nothing ever changed, nothing ever would. And once again, it was your fault.
When the blows rained down on you that night, your exposed and vulnerable body lying uselessly on the ground, you didn't move. You hadn't moved in a long time—you'd stopped defending yourself, stopped fighting. A violent blow from Seon-woo to your cheek sent your head slamming against the floor, and a hiss echoed in your head, pushing the smug laughter of your assailants into the background. Your vision blurred—with tears or pain, it didn't matter in the end. You thought you were going to faint, die if you were lucky, when a gust of wind brushed against your face. It wasn't an ordinary breeze; there was never any wind, and there never should have been.
Weak and with the taste of blood in your mouth, you forced your eyes open—just enough to make out the figure standing not far from you. Or, even more importantly, the three figures groaning in pain on the ground at his feet. You frowned before you could even grasp what was happening, and barely had time to struggle on your elbows before the person who had interrupted your harassers reached you with two long strides and knelt beside you, their hands gripping your shoulders as if to push you back to the ground. But instead, to your utter surprise, their touch wasn't violent. Your skin itself, having known only blows and the sensation of blood flowing down it, seemed to reject this unfamiliar feeling. Hyun-tak's hands felt warm against your hardened skin—almost comforting, if you were still foolish enough to believe in such a feeling.
“Are you okay? Oh god, you’re hurt—”
His eyes scanned your bruised and bleeding face, his jaw tightened and he winced, as if he were the one in pain. You didn't answer, silently staring into his eyes as he seemed about to use his own jacket to wipe the blood from your skin. Before he could finish, though, you flinched away from his touch. He wasn't holding you, and that disconcerted you more than if he had. Hyun-tak wanted to meet your gaze, but you refused, your eyes fixed instead on his hands. Before he could speak—ask anything even more idiotic than this whole situation—you spoke.
“What do you think you're doing?”
Your voice came out hoarse and harsh, and you were pleased with it. It didn't matter who this boy thought he was; it irritated you more than anything. Hyun-tak opened his mouth at this but remained silent, seeming completely taken aback.
“Do you even know what you just did?” You continued, your tone becoming increasingly venomous as you spoke. “You thought you were helping me? You're just making it harder, you dumbass.”
You couldn't remember speaking to anyone in that tone in a long time. You couldn't remember feeling that anger. You couldn't remember anything, actually. Because that was it, until today at least, your life. Nothing. But this boy, whom you had met that very morning—if you could even call it a meeting—seemed to have awakened a part of you you thought was dead. The real you, though you were killing yourself trying not to call it that. The smiling, passionate little girl. A child, feeling everything three times over. The child you'd been trying to kill since you arrived here—and whose flame this idiot boy had just rekindled.
“I’m sorry.” Hyun-talk’s words brought you back to reality, making you grit your teeth. “I didn’t mean to upset you, I was just helping—”
“No, you weren’t!” You spat, struggling to your feet and stubbornly refusing the help of the boy who stood up beside you. “You like thinking you helped, you like playing the hero and feeling useful; well, you’re not! Not to me! You didn’t save me, if anything, you’ve just condemned both me and yourself to hell for as long as we live.”
The boy’s eyebrows only drooped as the words escaped you, so low they could have merged with his eyes.
“Hey, stop a second—what are you saying?” He interrupted you, raising his hands in defeat and taking a step toward you, only for you to dodge him. “I’m not… I don’t want to hurt you, okay? I just saw these assholes beating you up and—”
“And you should have walked past. Everyone does here; it’s for a damn reason!”
You were getting angry. You couldn’t understand this boy.
“I couldn’t just ignore it!” Hyun-tak insisted, his voice suddenly rising. “I couldn’t just ignore you getting beaten up!”
A silence passed between you, broken only by your ragged breaths.
“Listen, I just want to help you, okay?”
The boy spoke softly, his shoulders slumping.
“Well, I don’t want your help.” You sighed one last time. “Now leave me alone.”
You turned to leave, limping but trying your best not to let him see—but of course he did. Hyun-tak remained silent, watching you walk away as night gently fell over the city. A grunt made him look down, only to see Seon-woo crawling weakly to his ankle, his face covered in blood.
“Fight me, you asshole…”
The boy whispered weakly. Hyun-tak didn’t even bother to reply, rolling his eyes and freeing himself from the agonising boy’s grasp—making sure to crush his hand one last time before walking off in the same direction as you.
Arriving at your house, you groaned in pain and stopped in front of your door, your hand on the handle, before freezing. Through the door, muffled shouts reached you, the two voices hurling insults at each other endlessly. You closed your eyes for a moment, sighed deeply, and released the handle. If your parents had decided to fight—again—you wouldn't be involved. You'd had enough for one night. So you continued walking along your street until you reached the small park you always rushed to when you wanted to be alone, normally crowded but thankfully empty at this hour. You limped slowly, your feet dragging on the ground, before sitting down on a swing in the middle of the park. From there, you could see the sun slowly setting behind the horizon of houses that made up your village. You rested your head on the swing rope, closing your eyes. Taking a deep breath, you finally managed to relax despite the aches and pains your body had grown so accustomed to enduring.
A few minutes later, you forced your eyelids open at the soft rustle of clothes nearby. You turned your head to see Hyun-tak, sitting on the swing next to yours—his eyes fixed on the horizon. You remained silent for a moment before turning back to the horizon yourself, not commenting on the boy's sudden presence. A strangely comfortable silence settled between you as you watched the sunset. Finally, without even thinking, you let the words flow from your mouth.
“You’re weird.”
Hyun-tak turned toward you, but you kept your gaze fixed on the horizon. After a few silent seconds, a half-smile played on his lips.
“Look who’s talking.”
You turned your head toward him, frowning, only to be met with his smug smile. You stared at him for a moment before turning back to the horizon. A pause.
“Why are you here?” You asked.
“You looked like you could use some company.” He replied.
“You think I’m weak.” You stated.
“No, I think you’re strong.”
You snapped your head around, eyes wide, meeting his calm profile and the smile playing on his lips. Slowly, he turned toward you, and the sincerity in his eyes was perhaps what tugged at your heart the most. You turned your head away to avoid his gaze. No one had ever called you strong. For years, you hadn’t even dared to see yourself as anything other than a weak victim getting exactly what she deserved. No one had ever looked at you like that—as if you weren’t worthless, as if you were someone. No one had ever... seen you. You bit the inside of your cheek.
“You don’t know me.” Was all you managed to whisper in reply, your eyes cast downward.
Hyun-tak didn’t answer immediately; instead, he took the time to observe you—your hair falling over your face as you kept your head bowed, your furrowed brows, and the eyes he could glimpse through the strands, speaking volumes. You wanted to hope, to believe his words—the little girl inside you fighting harder than ever to reignite the blaze that once fueled you—but the larger part of you, the one convinced you were useless, weak, and insignificant, seemed stubbornly intent on snuffing out the fire. Hyun-tak smiled, his eyes softening.
“No, I don’t.” He murmured simply. “But I’d like to.”
Your breath hitched before you drew in a sharp breath, your vision blurring once more. Damn it, since when did simple words…
“Why are you doing this?”
The words left your lips, barely audible as you clenched your fists against your thighs.
“Because I like you,” Hyun-tak replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I want to be your friend.”
You closed your eyes, swallowing back what felt like a sob before it could escape. Opening them again, you breathed gently for a few seconds, basking in the comfortable silence Hyun-tak’s presence created around you. Finally, you looked up at him.
“Can you defeat Seon-woo?”
“I can teach you how to fight so you can defeat him yourself.”
You pressed your lips together, holding the boy’s gaze, your brows still furrowed.
“You won’t leave me? You’ll stay no matter what?”
Once again, a smile playing on his lips, Hyun-tak nodded.
“I’ll always be there. Pinky promise.”
Before you could even fully process his words, the boy held out his pinky finger, smiling. Your gaze shifted from his hand to his radiant face, and before you could even make sense of the feeling—you scoffed. Hyun-tak’s eyes widened, his smile replaced by an expression of pure surprise—at least for a few seconds, before it reappeared, broader and brighter than ever.
“You’re such a dork.” You muttered, looking away as if to brush off the sound of your own giggle.
“But I made you laugh.”
You turned toward Hyun-tak and met his sparkling gaze. You stared at him for a moment, feeling your cheeks flush, and interlaced your pinky with his—the touch warm and comforting, just enough to make your lips curl upward.
Deep down, the little girl inside you was rejoicing as her inner flame was finally rekindled—with someone there to protect it this time.
A bit of context maybe? — I just finished watching Study Group, and since I'm constantly high on Weak Hero drugs (and the show in itself seemed to be a constant parallel), I need to let a few things out.
You don't care? I get it, you can ignore this. But if people give a fuck about what I think—
Let's talk.
YOON GAMIN (윤가민) & YEON SIEUN (연시은)
Gamin only wanting to study -> literally Sieun's wish the whole time. Guess what? None of them could study in peace and be left alone, when that's all they ever wanted. Also, Gamin's obsession with people's eyes in which he sees they want to study and Sieun's eyes being.. Sieun's eyes really made me lose my mind for a second. Also, even if barely mentionned in one episode for Gamin when it's kinda Sieun's whole thing in Weak Hero: pens. Gamin is called a "pen expert" by Sehyun as he rants about different type of pens to study, and Sieun.. well, he uses many, but not only to study.
LEE JUN (이준) & PARK HUMIN (박후민)
Lee Jun reminded me of Baku -> of course the red hair—also Slam Dunk was mentionned so literally the same reason—, but most importantly the childhood friend they lost to a gang. Baku saved Baekjin from bullying and taught him how to fight and dealt with the guilt of him using his fighting skills for the wrong reasons afterwards. Lee Jun wanted to be strong but never was—not as much as he wished—and lost his friend who'd always been stronger and beat him up before leaving forever. In the end, Baku defeated Baekjin—and Lee Jun defeated Antis.
LEE JIWOO (이지우) & GO HYUNTAK (고현탁)
Jiwoo and Gotak -> because it just makes sense (to me at least..). They're both fighters with strong protective instincts. For her brother, Jiwoo let herself be bullied—the same way Gotak always stepped between his friends and danger, even if it meant facing Seongje of all people. Also not Jiwoo lowkey being ragebaited by Lee Jun half the time and guess who's ragebaiting Gotak? You got it.
MA MINWHAN (마민환) & GEUM SEONGJE (금성제)
Minwhan and Seongje -> look at me in the eyes and tell me you don't see it. Literally the same characters in two different universes: both being the right-hand man of the main antagonist, both just wanting to have fun and laughing their asses off as they crush people with their fists (and their spirit too-). Also Sehyun crushing Minwhan's feet with a book the exact same place Sieun stabbed Seongje's feet with a pen? Perfection. Seongje would join No Reason so quick bruh
KIM SEHYUN (김세현) & OH BEOMSEOK ( 오범석)
Sehyun and Beomseok -> it almost hurt while watching. It took me one frame to see Sehyun's eyes when Gamin went to save him and I was already replaying that evening in the karaoke club. Sehyun doesn't want to be saved, he wants to save himself for once and not feel like a complete loser in everything in his life—Beomseok is the exact same way. Both suffered bullying and abuse from their dads—though Sehyun's one turned out to be less of an abuser and just.. a man with a really bad temper who accepted his son for who he is in the end? Though it will never excuse him raising his hand on his own son (and not even beginning to talk about the emotionnal abuse). In the end though, Gamin followed Sehyun everywhere and they ended up making up—whereas Beomseok, who in my opinion was way more fragile and broken beyond repair, couldn't handle Suho's friendship even when he tried fixing things. This one hurt a lot. let's not mention Sehyun's poor while Beomseok's loaded
CHOI HEEWOON (최희운) & SEO JUNTAE (서준태)
Heewoon and Juntae -> just replaying her screaming curse words with an echo and I hear Juntae's "SHIROOO". I don't even know what to say—two precious souls who were bullied, seem weak and useless but are willing to join in a fight without a second thought if it means saving their friends. Underestimated to a fault too (also Jiwoo and Heewoon being respectfully Gotak and Juntae makes me giggle given their dynamics in the respective shows-).
That's it guys the post is over (*add crying in the background*).
if somebody read until there congratulations!! you're part of the 0.0001%!! Here's a little kiss on the forehead ( ˘ ³˘)♥ love you<3
totally not distracting y'all while I work on requests ahah... bear with me i'm weak
Look, do I think it’s kinda funny and cute the way Hyuntak completely looses it at any inconvenience, and bickers and argues with anyone within reach about literally nothing ? Yes. Of course.
But I do wanna highlight some other smaller moments that show, how that’s not ALL that he is.
In the first telling scene he confronts some gossipers:
The guys talk about how Sieun is basically insane, violently so, to the point of having put someone in a coma. Both these things probably already remind him of Seongje (insane and violent) and Bakejin (put HIM into the hospital).
Nonetheless he shuts them down very fast and scolds them for gossiping, when they don’t have enough information nor a trusted source (cause why would you trust Hyoman).
When being told, that Sieun destroyed their clubroom, he takes his times as well.
He could’ve taken a quick look inside, see the mess, that „Sieun“ made and immediately chase after him. But he doesn’t.
Instead he looks all around the room, taking in and evaluating all the damage made. Furthermore, when he sees the picture of their supposed last and possibly only win, he takes time to take away the cigarette. (An added insult, considering said scene prior) He presses his eyes shut and sighes, and then puts it back on the shelf!! He looks at it a second longer to make sure it’s safe. Only THEN does run after Sieun, who could have already been too far away to catch up, for all he knows.
This small moment shows why he truly went after Sieun: He isn’t seeking out a fight just cause he finally got an opportunity to do so. He doesn’t seek a fight just to put someone in his place or anything. No. He seeks a fight not to fight but to protect something. Someone. Baku. His team. His school.
Keeping in mind that he is used to fighting the union, specifically Seongje („I lost my toy/You‘re my playmate“ in reference to Hyuntak), and in extension Baekjin, who are both ready to use any means of violence possible. They’re mean and cold and they don’t care about other people’s feelings besides the ones they care about already.
He doesn’t like gossip. He wants to rely on facts, even if the rumours are possibly dangerous,
He doesn’t take action mindlessly. He doesn’t blindly follow his anger. He clearly knows there is a difference between playfighting/arguing over nothingness and actually looking to fight someone.
We know by now that Hyuntak and Baku are fiercely loyal people, especially to one another. They can bicker and fight but the moment someone else dares to upset the other, they’re ready to fight it out.
… and yet he scolds Sieun for speaking out.
Not because he likes what he sees or hears of course. No. He fears upsetting the father more. Fears making the situation worse for Baku. Cause he has seen it, heard it. At least in the way Baku had to sleep over, to avoid his father.
And in the end he is right about this upsetting the father, being thrown out and all but we can gather that he is happy that someone finally said it all.
He is also not afraid to talk about Bakjin. Doesn’t avoid the topic. Actively calls Baku out on caring for him still. And the way he say it isn’t bitter or confused or anything. It’s conversational. Its exactly what Baku needs. And when he nexts sees Baekjin, he doesn’t feel entitled to fight him out of revenge.
Cause this too isn’t about him. This is about Baku and his friends and his school.
In fact, he seemed to have largely moved on; only having flashbacks when directly triggered (Seongje).
So he is ready to fight him; AGAIN. Despite knowing he has not only lost the fight but his entire career to him. Despite being tired from the fight already. Despite knowing he can’t win.
Sieun just stopped him before he Baekjin or anyone really noticed it.
He can differentiate between the Baekjin that is the head of the union and the Baekjin the it’s his best friends ex childhood friend. And he doesn’t hold it against either of them.
Or in short: Yes, he is easily ragebaited at times but when it is serious he tries to keep the harmony for as long as possible, to look at it from all sides, even if they hurt him. He can differentiate between what he himself wants and needs and what would be good for the collective.
tysm tysm for your guys’ support, i never knew there would be so many of you liking my content. i genuinely feel so loved in here <3 i can’t even explain it, thanks to all of my angels💞
(especially to my talented, beautiful, kind, sweet, amazing wife @kaylasyx 💋!! you deserve the world for being here w me from the beginning)
YAYY HAPPY 800🎉🎉 you deserve all of this love and attention and even more🫵
also not my gentle pretty gifted generous caring loving scrumptious wife complimenting me like- i bow to you loml🙂↕️💗 you're cool and kind and you make my day everytime I open this app please marry me all over again
#REQ. : ,, Hii! Could you do the whc boys headcannons after a long week when they are being really patient and soft spoken with the reader (when it comes to small tasks around the apartment or anything really) “
#CONTAINS : yeon sieun, ahn suho, oh beomseok, park humin, go hyuntak, seo juntae, geum seongje
sfw : established relationship : fem!reader : headcanons : comfort
#A/N : sorry this is so ass☹️🙏 where tf my skill went to
YEON SIEUN
he would notice right away that you’re feeling down - he’s good at reading you over the months, or years of knowing you
wouldn’t try to ask if you’re okay. he immediately gives you space
can wait the whole day for you to speak up honestly. he himself needs a lot of space so he understands
when you do talk to him, he listens. he’s really good at listening
if you ask him to do anything to make you feel better, he will. without hesitation
he wouldn’t do any grand gestures - well, they could be very meaningful, but he wouldn’t do anything performative to make you feel better 😭😭
for him, it’s important for you to have someone by your side when you don’t feel like yourself
AHN SUHO
he IS the type to bug you with the “are you okay?” or “you’re crying?” questions until you snap at him✌️
this b is dramatic about it after
but also gets the hint immediately, sensing that you’re really in a bad mood today
he TRIES so hard to give you space but also feels awkward in the silence between you two
in the end, he will come to your bedroom with some leftover dish that he prepared at work (used his whole break for that)
when you let him in, he doesn’t leave your side for the rest of the day.
the type to say that he’ll protect you from all the “evil feelings that makes you sad”
overall: he cares, but he has no idea what to do after you snap at him😭
OH BEOMSEOK
this man’s devastated when you snap at him
immediately blames himself
he’s able to cry about it too. he just can’t handle the fact that you’re mad at him🥹
even if it’s his fault or not, does EVERYTHING in his power to make you feel better (or forgive him in his brain)
buys you flowers and all, along with your favourite snacks and drinks
shows up at your door like in a romantic movie, even apologies to you like he’s in one
feels embarrassed when you tell him it’s not his fault but doesn’t regret doing allat if it made you smile
green flag (in this case…)
PARK HUMIN
this absolute bum doesn’t even notice that you’re in a bad mood
he doesn’t stop even if you snap and avoid him
gotak genuinely has to scold him for his reckless behaviour to get the hint😭
right then he’s on a mission to find you as soon as he can and apologise
no, he doesn’t know what personal space means when he’s with you
later when you actually talk about what’s got you down, he switches moods in exactly 0.2 seconds
now he’s serious as ever
the type to think some type of couple activity to get your mind off of things
don’t ever think about being sad around this man, that’s all
GO HYUNTAK
the type to actually try to talk to you if you’re feeling down but when you just refuse to cooperate, he gives up and snaps at you before you can😭
regrets it deeply later
then he finds himself standing in the snack aisle, thinking about what would you like
won’t admit it but is scared to approach you after what he pulled
same as beomseok, will do all that romantic shit just for you to let him in and let him comfort you
will deny it forever by the next day
holds you for the rest of the day
explains that he was just worried about you and only snapped because he couldn’t help you ☹️
he’s too handsome so you forgive him (wait who said that…)
SEO JUNTAE
my poor little son
spends the whole day asking others what to do if his girlfriend is sad for no reason
is also scared to approach you, not knowing if it’s his fault that you’re feeling this way or not
then he notices how tired you look and immediately gets why you’re like this
when you get home, bunch of your comfort stuff is waiting for you at your bed
beside it there’s a note
“sorry you’re feeling down, hope this helps you! if you need anything, call me! - juntae :)”
you genuinely melt and cry about it for at least an hour
now he thinks he made you feel worse✌️
GEUM SEONGJE
sorry not sorry but this man doesn’t give a single fuck about your mood
thinks it’s one of those times when you just don’t want to talk to anybody because you’re moody
but he’s not completely heartless either
so he does ask ONE time if you’re okay
if you tell him off, he won’t bother asking you again
if you do tell him what’s going on, he will actually listen
when he gives you a chance, you have to take it otherwise it’s over✌️😭
i don’t see him doing anything extra to make you feel better
his presence is enough. sometimes, all he needs is quiet so he thinks that it can help you too
#DIVIDERCREDITS : @/chrisssiren , other dividers from a person i do not know.
Seriously thank you all so much for this!! I never thought my writing would get me this far lmao-
and a VERY special thanks to my wifey who's been here from the start and that keeps supporting me to this day @whcfreak 💗 (go support her now her writing is amazing🫵)
STAAPP YOU'RE THE AMAZING ONE😍 I could glaze you all day so I'll stop here BUT I LOVE YOU VERY MUCHH💗💗 can't wait to discover more of you and your beautiful amazing scrumptious fics✨🤌
